(By the way, another interview awaits me tomorrow morning. Who knows, maybe I will become a professional interviewee . . .)
COOKIE CRUMBLES
When ten-year-old Cassandra heard her Girl Scout leader announce the challenge, she thought her heart would pound out of her chest:
When ten-year-old Cassandra heard her Girl Scout leader announce the challenge, she thought her heart would pound out of her chest:
“Whoever sells the most boxes of cookies will spend a weekend in New York City.”
Cassie knew that winning the contest meant she would get the chance to see her father. Since the divorce, Cassie had been missing those long afternoons fishing and puttering around in the garage. The Big Apple had been Cassandra’s home all her life before her mother moved the family to San Diego.
Cassie scribbled the thoughts in her diary. It had become her closest friend since the move. She recorded her deepest thoughts, her sadness over the move and all of her frustration over her older brother. He was her biggest annoyance.
Cassandra’s determination to win that contest wavered, however, when, the following day she saw Missy Cooper on the playground. Cassie managed to fake a smile. Of all the girls in her class, Missy was the most annoying. With her miss-matched clothes and terrible singing voice, Cassie didn’t like being anywhere near Missy. Choir practice had become almost unbearable. Cassandra decided that she would have nothing to do with “Freckle Face”. As far as she was concerned, their only connection would be a rivalry – for the win of that cookie contest.
After a few days of cookie selling, Cassie filled her water bottle and checked her order sheet before heading out on her bike. Selling one hundred and forty five boxes was something to smile about, but with rumor of Missy reaching one hundred fifty, Cassie had to keep moving.
With practically every house on the north side of town already hit, Cassie decided to secretly make a trip across the railroad tracks. She cringed with the thought of leaving the comfort and safety of her new neighborhood. She had been forced to accept so much change lately, that she felt weary of taking any more risks.
“See you later, Mom,” Cassie called. She began down the driveway, feeling guilty about her destination.
“Good luck - you’ll need it!” yelled her older brother from underneath the car.
“Dinner is at five,” replied her mother, who was pulling weeds out of the flowerbed. “Good luck Pumpkin!”
Pumpkin is what dad used to call me, Cassie mused.
A lump formed in her throat making it difficult to breathe. She began pedaling, hoping to make it back in time for dinner. Tears stung her eyes, as she ached for the well being of an unbroken home. Frustration caused her to push harder on the pedals. Before she knew it, she had crossed the tracks.
By now, Cassie’s legs were burning. She decided to begin on Fourth Street and make her way to Miller Avenue. The houses looked much smaller than the ones in her neighborhood. Old cars decorated the street. Furniture and junk lined the porches. Bars covered the doors and windows making the place seem uninviting.
As Cassie approached the first house, she saw a kennel full of puppies on the front porch. Cassie bent down to greet them. Their slobbery licks left a trace of puppy breath on her hands. Cassie made her way to the front door, and mustered courage to knock. What happened next sent a surge of confusion through her small frame.
There in the doorway of this broken down shack, stood Missy Cooper. With a melting ice cream cone in one hand and a wiggling puppy in the other Missy raised an eyebrow at the intruder.
“Well, look who’s here,” crooned Missy. “Trying to comb through my neighborhood I see. Well, it’s not going to work. I am determined to win that trip.”
Feeling exasperated, Cassie was silent. She turned to go, taking one more glance back at the nauseating view. As Cassie made her way back to her bike, she felt her face grow hot. Her bike was nowhere to be found. Panic struck her, and she saw a group of boys riding off with it, sending throws of laughter.
Missy had already closed the door, leaving enough privacy for the meltdown. Cassie collapsed into a heap and began to sob.
After a while, she peeked at her Girl Scout watch. It was getting late. Feeling hungry and alone Cassie began making her way home by foot. Her fear increased with every step. Dark clouds loomed overhead. Cassie wasn’t expecting rain, but the cloud burst moments later, mocking Cassie’s.
Streetlights like beacons led her the last half hour home. The dark night made the journey even more upsetting. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so lost. More than anything, she felt lost in her soul. By the time she got home, she was drenched. When she stepped through the door, her mother embraced her with tears of her own.
“Where have you been young lady?” Without waiting for an answer she cried, “I don’t ever want you to do that again!”
Cassie tried to explain, but she was too tired to sound convincing. She had no more fight left. Even her brother’s sarcastic comment didn’t faze her. After a warm bath and a plate full of cold dinner, Cassie slipped into her clean sheets and tried to pretend it had all been a terrible dream.
The next morning Cassie slinked into choir practice hoping not to be noticed. She pondered the afternoon before, when she stood at Missy’s door. Something about seeing Missy’s living conditions tugged at Cassandra’s heart. But the competition for cookie sales kept Cassie hardened. She tried to ignore the fact that Missy’s voice seemed a little less annoying that day.
After school, Cassandra waited out front for her mom. The dream of seeing her father was starting to dim behind the backdrop of defeat. She searched for her journal to write her feelings down, but it wasn’t in her backpack. Just then, a ticking sound caught Cassie’s attention. It was Missy driving up on a familiar set of wheels.
“Hey, that’s my bike.” Cassandra stated. “How in the world did you get it back?”
Missy smiled shyly, and started to explain. “Those boys who took it yesterday were my brothers. I got it back for you this morning before they woke up. I found your journal in the basket. Here, I thought it looked important.”
Cassandra gasped. Once again she found herself speechless.
“We may be opponents in this cookie contest, but us girls, we’ve got to stick together, you know.” Missy whispered.
Missy slipped off the seat and handed the bike to Cassie. She blew a gigantic bubble with her gum and skipped off. Once again, Cassie found herself endeared by her rival. This confused Cassie, giving her plenty to write down that night.
Weeks passed, and the dream of visiting New York kept Cassandra’s head in the clouds. The girls worked head to head, with only four or five boxes between them at each meeting.
The afternoon of the deadline, Cassie sat restlessly in a cluster of Girl Scouts. Families filled the seats in the auditorium. As the troop leader called for everyone’s attention, Cassie lowered her head. She wanted to disappear through the crack in the floor. It was one thing to lose to Missy Cooper, and quite another to be publicly humiliated.
Cassie decided to pretend she had to go to the bathroom. She stood up and began walking toward the foyer. “Our top cookie seller this year is . . . .” She couldn’t bear to hear another word. “The winner is Cassandra!” Cassie stopped dead in her tracks, and slowly turned. With unbelief, she made her way to the podium and glanced in Missy Cooper’s direction, only to discover a wink. Tears surfaced when she realized that she was really going home.
Feeling stunned, Cassandra accepted the envelope of tickets and made her way back to her seat. Moments later she felt the whisper of a familiar voice behind her. “I can’t believe you beat me by one box!”
Cassie giggled. She felt warm inside, sensing that Missy’s tone was a peaceful one. Cassie’s heart filled with a mix of uncertainty and delight. She turned to wink back at her new friend.
After the troop meeting, the girls spent the rest of the afternoon sharing their stories over hot fudge sundaes. After going over selling strategies and swapping annoying older brother stories, Missy interjected.
“I miss my Dad too,” Missy confessed. “I hope you will forgive me for peeking in your diary.”
A mix of things filled Cassandra’s heart. So much had happened in those few short weeks. She had moved to a new town, managed to get grounded for a week, lost and found her bike and discovered the greatest friend out of a rival. Of all the feelings she was experiencing in that moment, forgiveness managed to bubble to the surface.
“Don’t give it another thought.” Cassie replied. “Us girls, we have to stick together you know.”
No comments:
Post a Comment