Standing Out

For me, the hardest part about going on vacation is accepting when it is time to leave. This time had been no exception. I didn’t want to go back to a world where I was nobody and a freak for trying to be somebody. I wanted to stay right by the ocean where I belonged.

Hearing the news that we would be taking the long trip back home to Erie, Pennsylvania had really upset me. But the real despondency came when I was actually back at my house for a while. I could no longer hear the crashing waves of the ocean or look out of my window to see the rippling dock by the bay. The only thing that I was able to see was a crowded neighborhood with so many trees that it became an eyesore. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jeanne would be able to identify them. I had to ask.

I picked up a green, scaly leaf. It reminded me of a pine tree, but it was flatter. “Jeanne,”

She looked at me and then at my leaf. “What is it?”

“What tree did this leaf come from?”

She took it from me and spent a moment running visual tests on it. “Thuja occidentalis,” she frowned. “It was really obvious.”

I didn’t know what a “thuja” was, so I had to ask for clarification. “Can you say the tree’s name in English, please?”

Jeanne sighed. “It is a northern white cedar, also known as an eastern arborvitae.”

You say that as though everyone knows what that tree is.

“The new neighbor recently planted one, so it makes sense that you found a piece of its foliage.”

There’s a new neighbor? What is she talking about? I expressed my perplexed musings to Jeanne and she seemed more annoyed that I wasn’t up to date on gossip than she was about my poor knowledge of trees.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t realize that Jessabelle’s uncle moved here. He’s been here for about a month.”

I was taken aback. I wasn’t ready to frequently see her next door, visiting her uncle. I swallowed. “What’s his name?”

“Mr. Bruen,” was her plain answer. Jeanne looked at me strangely. “Are you all right? You look horrified.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.” I didn’t want to explain that an old man, now living in Sara’s house, thought I was Mr. Bruen and threw a boot at me. I had hoped to never see this gentleman again, but I feared that Mr. Bruen’s whereabouts might reach his earnest ears. Then I might have to face him again if he sees me in the neighborhood.

Jeanne narrowed her eyes. She didn’t believe me. I raced away before she could question me further.

When I got to my room, I pulled out my dusty brown backpack and put in some school supplies.

The first day of school was just a day away. I was to become a fifth grader. Unfortunately, I didn’t want to go back because I knew that my peers were going to incessantly bully me. I almost wished that I could repeat fourth grade. That way, no one would know that I was an outcast and try to force me to sit at the Weirdo Deposit Area. Maybe someone would even want to be my friend.

Since I couldn’t repeat fourth grade, however, I thought my return to Mulberry Intermediate Center was going to be unbearable. It was supposed to be the day in which other children would think of new insulting nicknames for me. It was supposed to be the day that I was jeered at, pushed down the hallway, and mocked for my bald spots.

But it was none of these things. Fate had something new in store for me.

I had believed that the first day of school would be the resumption of my abysmal end. In reality, it was the start of something new. It was a new beginning.