Jodi Anderson Writings

eels and trout

There was a little girl who grew up on a creek called Dell. 

Interested in being proper, she walked on the left side of the road as she made her way down the hill to the bridge.  Once there, she stood on the eastern side and stared into the water, noted animal tracks where the earth met the creek.  She crossed to the western edge of the one-lane bridge and followed the flow with her eyes until it turned sharply out of her sight and beyond the trees. 

She navigated the steep path that was carved from the feet of fishermen years past, but cut instead to the left and crawled under the bridge, where she sat on the concrete base and waited for the occasional car to pass over her head. 

When the little girl noted the first eels of the season, she would then walk up the hill, on the left side of the road before crossing it to her house, and tell her stepdad that the trout were coming. 

bus fare

There was a little girl who took a long bus trip twice a day, from the country, for all the years she went to school.  It could be scary.  Mostly, though, she didn't mind.  She especially liked the rides that went to school.  There could be good things there, like the library and English teachers and order and clear expectations and a few girl friends.  The bus rides home?  She didn't like those so much. 

The little girl was one of the first riders to get on each morning, and she liked some of the kids who rode at that time with her and lived too far away to visit outside of school, like the twin boys.  Each one was so different from the other, and she didn't know yet then that she would miss them a lot later in her life. 

One year, she rode the bus home with one of her best girl friends.  They played hand-clapping games and sang "Tis a gift to be simple, tis a gift to be free, tis a gift to come down where we ought to be ... "  There were both oldest children and knew a lot about responsibility.  She would miss her a lot some day too. 

Cruelty was rampant on the bus, but really it was just bus fare and a small price to pay for the opportunity to go to school. 

Near the end of the trip, the bus stopped on a sharp curve to pick up a farm boy.  He was the youngest in a family with much older siblings.  He was one year ahead of the little girl in school, the class that she most feared. 

On a day no different than any other, he sauntered slowly down the bus aisle, looking from side to side, deciding upon where to sit.  Halfway to the back, he stopped and bent down.  He looked at the little girl and said slowly, "You. Are. SO. Ugly." 

His eyes bulged a lot.  It wasn't very attractive.