Dawn to Dusk

Dawn-2

“This morning.”

“Ten o’clock train?” I asked, cringing at the memories of my own train ride a couple of weeks earlier.

“Nah, my dad’s car.”

“Oh, cool! You got lucky.”

As silence fell between us and we almost dozed off in the quiet afternoon, someone yelled my name down the street. I jolted to my feet, startled out of my near-asleep state. Robert laughed at me and I glared in response.

Traian and David ran towards us, huge grins on their dirty faces. They looked like they’d wrestled in the dust, which was probably what the two brothers had been up to.

“Hey, man. Wanna go to the creek with us?” Traian asked and I immediately perked.

“Sure, just let me grab some shoes.” I turned to Robert and the rest of his cousins. “You guys want to come?”

Tatiana shook her head. She never wanted to go, she thought snakes would eat her if she went to the creek.

“I’m not allowed to go to the creek alone,” Nicu said dejectedly.

I turned to look at Robert, but he wasn’t paying attention to me. He was staring at Traian and David who were introducing themselves. He finally nodded his approval after reluctantly shaking hands with the brothers. I let go of my breath, wondering why I felt so relieved he was coming. I forgot about that thought soon enough though and rushed inside to put some socks and shoes on after a quick wash with sun heated water. As I was running out of the summer kitchen, I yelled where I was going, hoping my grandma would hear me.

“Get back in one piece,” she yelled back, then laughed.

If it weren’t for Robert, we would have probably run all the way to the creek. As it was, the cool, older kid, who walked leisurely with his hands in his shorts’ pockets, made us all rein in our excitement. After all, it wasn’t like we hadn’t been down at the creek a million times before. We could copy his attitude and tone down the enthusiasm.

To get there, we needed to walk all the way to the rusty roundabout in the center of the village, pass by the bar and the village hall, then turn right on the dirt road that took us all the way to the church and school. Just before we’d reach the church, we’d turn left and go down to the small bridge over the creek.

The creek valley had always seemed huge to me. It took us an hour to walk from the bridge all the way to the railroad. Tall walls shielded the large expanse of grass the small nameless creek wound its way through. I always wondered if long ago this had been a huge river. On one side of it, you had the edges of gardens overlooking the drop to the creek, on the other, nothing but fields, and in between, twenty to thirty meters of rocks and grass. Maybe even more in some areas where the canyon-like valley was wider.

Robert looked around, not seeming very impressed until his eyes fell on one of the tall walls.

“It would be fun to climb up there,” he said, and I found myself nodding. That certainly sounded cool. Better than going up following the paths taking you there safely.

We walked along the creek, sharing our war stories with Robert: where we’d found a dead snake; where we’d tried to fish and caught nothing; where we’d chased a frog. Now that we were telling all our stories to an older kid, they didn’t seem quite so cool to me. Traian and David didn’t seem to care though. They were laughing and taunting each other as usual. Why was I so keen on impressing this kid? He wasn’t that special.

We made it all the way to the railroad bridge and stopped under it to rest. It had been a good two-three kilometer hike in the still scorching sun.

“I’m thirsty,” Robert said. “We should go back.”

“Nah, let’s go up and cross the railroad,” Traian said.

“Yeah,” I jumped in. “If we walk that way, there’s a well right when we get into the village. It’s the closest one.”

Robert shrugged and followed us. He looked bored and I felt bad for it. He’d followed us to have fun, but apparently he wasn’t into it much. I smiled sheepishly at him when I caught his eyes and he ruffled my hair. That small gesture made me feel a whole lot better. And gave me ideas.

“Hey, wanna steal some corn on the way back?”

David whooped and shouted a big “yes.” The corn was just right to be grilled or boiled. With a new spring to our steps, we climbed up to the railroad, ran across as fast as we could, although we knew the train schedule by heart and had nothing to fear. We then snuck into the cornfield across the road connecting the forest to the edge of the village next to the station. Each of us got a couple of cobs still wrapped in the thick, scratchy leaves, and ran back to the village.

A woman who passed by in her one-horse cart scolded us, but we knew nothing serious would happen to us. Most of us kids took a cob or two and grilled them. No one was going to make a huge fuss about it. Still, the impression of having stolen it always made the corn taste better.

As we walked back home, laughing and bumping into whoever seemed to pay the least attention, I got swept into the excitement. Nothing like planning for a little fire to cook our corn to make me forget about my earlier disappointment. I hadn’t figured out why my normally thrilling activities seemed so mundane and boring when shared with an older kid who seemed unimpressed. I shrugged it off and focused on deciding where to make the fire.

We opted for Traian and David’s house because their yard was larger and it was the first one on the way back. We hadn’t thought of bringing corn for the other kids, so we’d have to keep quiet about our loot. To our delight, the siblings’ granddad gave us more corn so Nicu and Tatiana could join us. He made us a huge fire, a lot larger than what we required, but we loved every second of it.

Even Robert smiled a little and seemed more interested in the conversation taking place. Still, I couldn’t help notice how he kept a distance from the other kids, sticking close to his cousins. I was probably too focused on how he treated Traian and David, so I didn’t notice how he was with me. Not right away, anyway. Later that night, before passing out after my eventful day, it hit me. He’d been acting as if I was one of his cousins all evening. Joking with me, ruffling my hair now and then. If I weren’t so exhausted, I probably would have mulled it over a while longer. Instead, I felt my lips slowly curve into a contented smile before I drifted off to sleep.

***

I woke up to the sounds of plates and cutlery being moved around and the sweet smell of fried eggs. Despite my sudden hunger, I stayed there a little longer, sprawled on the cool bed.

“Edi, come, child. Breakfast is ready.”

I sighed and stumbled out of bed, not wanting to make my grandma call me again. She made me wash the dishes whenever I took too long to come to the kitchen. I much preferred to eat quickly and run outside to play.

After the usual rushed-through breakfast, I went outside to wash up and brush my teeth. The water my grandma left outside in a huge cauldron-like thing was now pleasantly cool. The sun had been up for a few hours, but not long enough to make it all warm. I liked the splash of chilly water after breakfast. It energized me, getting me ready for the day.

I dried off with a towel hanging out on the line going across the yard. It had been there for a couple of days, but it still smelled like summer, clean and warm. When I was done, I pulled my T-shirt back on and went outside. The road was empty, so were the trees and the benches. Nothing but geese walking about in search of food. They were perky in the morning, ready for a fight, so I made sure to go around the ones closer to me.

As always, I was the first one up and out on the street. With nothing much to do, I went to the sour cherry tree towering over the bench in front of Tatiana’s house. I climbed it quickly with moves so practiced I wasn’t even paying attention. I then sat on my favorite branch and reached out for a few cherries. I scrunched my face at the sour taste before the underlying sweetness hit, and then relaxed in my seat, almost fully extended along the branch.

It was quiet, not a lot of noise beyond the geese, the birds, and the soft sounds of leaves moved by the gentle wind. This was my moment of solace, when I was alone with my thoughts, not needing to play or talk or come up with ideas about what to do next.

My mind wandered off in the same direction it always strayed to. School. I was going to be in fifth grade this autumn. Same school where my mother worked as an accountant. Same classroom even, with most of my old classmates from primary school. The only real difference was that instead of our one teacher for almost all classes—except English—we were going to have a different teacher for each subject. Apparently it was all going to get tougher. Also, no more uniform. I could wear whatever I wanted, not that the uniform ever bothered me. Now I had to worry about what to put on every morning. The girls in my class had been so happy. They spent weeks talking about all the cute outfits they were going to wear.

I was much more worried about who our teachers would be. As the school I went to taught first to eighth grade, I’d seen most of the teachers in the hallways. Some of them kept telling me I should cut my hair, which had always been shoulder-length. My mom’s initial preference. She and my teachers believed it was a way for me to stay connected to my father after the divorce. There was a story behind that with me crying for days for her to cut my hair because the other boys called me a girl. And then my father showed me photos of himself at university, with his tall frame, muscled body, and dark, long hair. I stopped asking for my hair to be cut.

While that had been the reason I stopped believing long hair made me a girl, it wasn’t why I wanted to keep it as it was. I wanted to be like the musicians and athletes I loved. Some of their names I didn’t even know, but I knew their songs and their teams and their sports. Something deep inside told me I needed to be just like them. So I stubbornly kept my hair long, despite the veiled and open threats from teachers that once I started fifth grade, they’d make sure they cut my hair.

I wished the summer would never end. I loved going to school because all my friends were there, but I dreaded this new grade and all the trouble it would bring. I sighed, feeling my lungs expand and then decompress as I blew off the air. I still had a couple of months until school started.

“Hey, birdie, what you doing up there?” a sleepy voice asked, yanking me out of my worries. I looked down to see Robert and a giggling Tatiana look up at me.

“Nothing. Just sitting here waiting for all the other lazy asses to wake up.”

“Get down,” Tatiana demanded, her hands perched on her hips and her bottom lip pushed out. She hated when we climbed the trees and stayed there. She couldn’t follow.

“Fine. Want some cherries?” She nodded and clapped her hands, so I picked up a few, cradling them in the lower side of my T-shirt. That would make my descent a little harder, but we’d all share the fruit. It was worth it.