Let's Start at the Very Beginning, A Very Good Place to Start

We were in the auditorium at St. Mary’s School.  It was spring of 1982.  Miss T said that we would take a break from singing.  She was very excited because the boy who was going to play the part of “Ben” in our musical was able to come to rehearsal that day.

I don’t remember for sure, but I’m sure a lot of us giggled.  We were ten.  To a roomful of girls, the mere mention of a boy made us giggle.  

He was wearing a football jersey and jeans.  Probably high tops, but I might be making that part up. 

He walked down the steps on the far side of the room while I sat in a chair in front of the piano. 

We rehearsed and rehearsed and never said a word to each other.  I’m sure he didn’t talk to anyone.  He was twelve and probably only agreed to be in the play because his mom told him it was the right thing to do.  He should be honored that he was asked.  Most everyone else had to audition.

***

We were in the cafeteria at the Horace Mann School.  It was 1984.  I’m not sure if we had assigned tables, but I do know that we often sat directly behind each other.  I had a juicebox.  He finished talking with his friends and turned around to me.  He tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Hey, blow in to the juicebox straw and then look in to it.  It’s really cool.”

He was an eighth grader.  I was only in sixth.  I never was one to give in to peer pressure, but there was no way I wasn’t going to do what he told me.  He seemed like a nice kid. So I did it.  Yep.  Juice.  All over my face.  I don’t remember what happened after that.  I’m sure he made fun of me for doing it.  I'm sure I was very angry.  But maybe secretly happy too.  Ah, the joys of junior high school.

***

So it began.  Thirty-one years ago.  He still makes fun of me.  He still wears football jerseys.  He still makes me so angry sometimes I could spit nickels.  He still makes me giggle.  And I can’t imagine it any other way.