TAKE YOUR PICK

My mother sits in the shade facing me as I play in the park’s sand box. She waves to me, jumps up fast when she sees Tessie yank my shovel out of my hand, gets it back for me and loudly scolds her. ‘It’s too crowded in here, Mama. I’d rather go on the swings.’ ‘Child, it isn’t crowded here. The trouble is the sand box is too small.’ Mama laughs but I don’t think that is funny.

I get my bucket, and when I put the shovel in, I see it is bent it half. I’m mad. I push Tessie and she pushes me back.. Mama grabs my arm and leads me to the swings. Two are empty. She gets there before I do and holds one for me. There is no bench, no tree to shade her. ‘Go back where you were, Mama. I’ll be okay.’ Mama starts to go and stops. There is Tessie headed for the other empty swing. Like a frog, she leaps on it, grabs the side chains and starts twisting herself and the swing into a large knot. When she can’t turn further, she lifts her feet and the swing reverses, spins madly and starts a third turn. Mama tells her not to do that anymore. She is going to break the swing. No sense asking Mama if I can try it. I know the answer.

Well before I do, Mama hears thunder. It’s far, far away. ‘Let’s go, Dolly. Where there’s thunder, there’s lightning. Let’s get away from these iron links.’ It’s no good to me now so I take my broken shovel and throw it near Tessie’s feet, call her a witch and run home. Mama gets there first and has the door open for me. The storm hits hard and I am glad because Tessie must be getting soaked. I hope she drowns.‘For that nasty remark, Miss Big Mouth, no dessert tonight.’

Sunday is picnic, beach day. Beach is not exactly the right description as it is nothing like Atlantic City. Our public beach is along the Modesa River. Mostly it is brown mud. The water is green and the sun is on fire. There are shady trees, tables, benches, a hot dog stand, cold drinks and no Tessie. This will be a happy day. Mama, Daddy, my sister and brother, both more grown up than I, eat all the delicious lunch Mama had packed for us. The chicken disappeared fast along with potato chips, pickles, fresh peaches and sour Concord grapes. Daddy has told me before I have to wait an hour after eating before going in the water. If I don’t, I might get cramps and drown. I dig in the wet sandy mud or muddy sand. The hour is almost up and who do I see getting out of their car but Tessie? As they walk towards us, Mama says, ‘Did youhear that thunder? If there’s thunder, lightning is there too. Put the trash in the barrels and get everything into the car. We’re leaving now!’ ‘But Mama, I have to go in the river to get this mud off, please.’ ‘Make it quick. We’ll get your wet suit off in the car.’ We are barely off the camp grounds when big rain drops pelt the windows, then small balls of sleet. Daddy has to drive very slowly, carefully and gets us home safely. ‘I bet you my Betty Boop doll that Tessie is stuck there and I hope she never gets home’ ‘Shut that mouth, Dolly. Shut it now!’ ‘But, Mama, Tessie is bad luck. She brought this storm like she did at the playground.’ ‘Nonsense, utter nonsense.’

Baker St. Carnival opens tonight. Streets in all directions are roped off so I can walk there by myself. The first place I go with my pennies is the Arcade. They disappear fast but that’s okay as I saw Buster Keaton stand still while a big wooden farm house falls all around him and he doesn’t get hurt. I’ve seen it 3 times and still like it. Mama knows how much I want to go on the ferris wheel and is going to go on with me. On only the third time around, we get stuck on the way down and I know why. I saw Tessie and her brother get on. We sit there and swing a little, then start and stop. Each car empties at the ramp. The mechanic gives us all our money back but that doesn’t make me happy. I wanted to go higher than I do on the swings, maybe touch the sky.

Tessie really must be the witch I called her. Every place she goes, something bad happens. ‘No, Dolly, she’s not a witch. A better word is ‘Jinx’. Your description is perfect.’ I think about that most of the day. At dinner I ask my question. ‘Why are we saying Tessie is a jinx? Why, Mama? I am at the same places Tessie is when a storm comes. I might have made the ferris wheel break down. Maybe I stepped on my own shovel and broke it. I might be the bad jinx. Right, Mama? Right, Everybody?’

‘Dolly, you are not a jinx–but what you are is pretty smart. You’re smarter than I am. Next time you see Tessie, smile, make-up with her, both of you apologize. You’ll see, the Jinx Queen will disappear and you two will be friends.’

Mama was wrong as I am not smarter than she is but she is right that Tessie isn’t a bad girl and neither am I. ‘I bet you my Betty Boop doll, Mama, we girls will be friends, sooner or later.’