Dear Amy at 11,
It’s a weird year. Grade six starts off by us declaring that we will run in the race for Grade Six Student Council as Secretary… and that is just odd. Our campaign posters consist of our name, the position, and a comic cut out from various newspapers. We just want to be a part of something and have no real reason for why this is our first attempt. Needless to say we don’t get into office, but politics just isn’t our jam anyway. And it’s just a popularity contest.
There is a day this year when our “enemy,” I say this loosely because enemies are weird at this age, is sick and everyone starts talking to us. It is very surreal when one girl, Ashleigh, tells us that it is because they were told not to talk to us by this main girl. That’s it. The whole reason why you are “uncool” and have less friends is because some random girl has all the power. Don’t worry about it. You’ll try to stand up to her and get in her way at some point… this doesn’t go well. Our crush at the time just grabs us by the collar and pushes us into a wall to get us out of her way. The bump on our head isn’t as bad as our pride and the fact that our crush clearly doesn’t see us in any way. Good news is that we still have C and B around and they are pretty decent friends for the next few years.
The highlight of the year is when we go to the states for the summer. Our father is dating a girl with frizzy blonde hair and crazy nails, but she lives outside of this place in Oklahoma and we get to road trip there. There are storms, lightening, and excitement on the way down, and when we arrive everything changes. Dad’s truck doesn’t have AC and it is so hot that we can fry eggs on rocks. There are turtles, fishing, a restaurant that covers its walls in license plates, we watch Twister all the way through for the first time, get to go in a storm cellar, and blonde streaks turning green. We get along really well with her son, Devon, and we venture with dad to Wichita Falls, Holy City, and other areas.
There are a lot of good memories from that trip, and a chunk of things that don’t really make sense even now. On our way back we drive through Colorado and the weather takes a dark turn, we joke about how a tornado might touch down, but its the hail that scares me enough that I pillow dive. Two made contact with the earth after we had gotten off that stretch of road.
We never go back there after those few months, and eventually we overhear Dad telling a waitress friend that they broke up because she was still seeing her ex-husband… or something like that. Eventually all that is left are endless photos of long horn cattle, us feeding marmots, and us at Holy City. More things to hold onto, but its a great experience of a completely different culture that is practically next door. It also makes for some great creative sparks for non-fiction pieces later on.