Samantha knew she had grown up. There were so many things that were different. She was not a child anymore, regardless of eight year gap to reaching adulthood. She was a grown up and that was all that mattered.
Little Sam, they used to call her, with auburn curly hair, a big dimpled smile and lanky features. She moved around a world of her own, her bag almost as big as her, hanging on both her shoulders as though sticking onto dear life. There was never a time when she strolled through the park, or walked slowly savouring the view. She knew it all, she felt every whisper of the leaves, but she was always on a stride. That set hard jaw of hers spoke distinctly of the fury and determination that burned within. She knew what she wanted, where she wanted and she was never short of that, not even at her age.
Not that her age made her any less of a grown up.
But then, Little Sam had had her share of imaginary friends. Bob, the hopeless slacker, who always hung around her, forever chatting and trying to capture her attention, looking at her wanting to know how to set a toy straight, how to tie shoe laces, how to spell his name and many other important matters that Bob thought she could answer. And she could, of course, answer them. Books taught her, and she was almost always buried in one book or the other, except when she was striding. Oh yes, and when she was not on an adventure.
There were other friends for adventures, Kyle, the big white hairy dog that came up to her waist. He was her faithful partner, quiet and bold, and had saved her from strong river currents and even a fall when she had been younger. She owed him her life, and she made sure he felt loved. Kyle did not have a leash, regardless of the law. In fact, Little Sam, quite proudly disobeyed the law. Not of her parents, she went to bed at ten exactly, for they were parents and therefore not lawmakers or adults who made the law to "right what was wrong and made even greater wrong." Her parents never put her on a leash, so why should she? Her science teacher even mentioned how humans were animals. Little Sam was full of such knowledge. Books helped.
There was one last friend and she was known as the Weeping Willow. She was Little Sam's best friend, as far as best friends could go, and she was the saddest creature Little Sam had ever cme across. Weeping Willow was a tall willowy girl and quite older than Little Sam. That didn't matter, of course, age never did. Weeping Willow's parents never kept their promises, and they never asked her of anything but her studies. Willy, as Little Sam called her, was a fantastic singer. Willy sang with the moonlight and the wind and Little Sam never heard any better, not even in radios. But Willy's parents didn't like anything but books. Sometimes Little Sam hated her books for what they had done to Willy. But then, books were books - it was the parents who were at fault.
Bob, Kyle and Willy waited by Little Sam's school every afternoon. They had school somewhere else, but they were done earlier. Kyle, of course, didn't go to school. Kyle said dogs didn't need schooling, they knew what they had to know from their parents, and sometimes by falling down. Dogs learner it that way. Little Sam sometimes wished she could learn that way too, but the scrapes in her knees and elbows did not help her grades. And besides, Bob and Willy went to school too. Both were rather bad in studies, and Little Sam usually took two hours of each afternoon teaching them by that table in the park. She had taught them to count, to read and even to make sentences. Sometimes these days, they wrote stories of their adventures together. Little Sam loved that.
Once, she had thought the road back from school to be hard and never ending. Once. Back then, she walked and walked till her legs screamed and her soles died. Sometimes she ran, though, that only made matters worse. She came home muddy, hungry, and terribly beaten and home did not give her much warmth. Home was cold, and bereft of life. Until her mother came home. Her mother worked closeby and her mother did not know how hard it was on Little Sam, that walk back. But Little Sam believed her mother, by just standing there, made everything better.
Her mother would say, "Why are you late, Little Sam? School ended an hour earlier!" With the cook's apron on her slightly plump features, she looked quite dazzling. Her hair hung out in loose strands from the knot on top of her head. Her mother had auburn hair too, but much sleeker than hers. She had better eyes as well, sharp, bright and always twinkling. Usually, at that time when she questioned Little Sam, her eyes were twinkling with rage.
It hurt Little Sam, of course, but she couldn't bear to say that aloud. "The road is long, mama, long and scary."
"Scary?" her mother would snap. "Scary? We have no time for fears, LIttle Sam, none at all. When will you grow up? Go keep your books and fetch these things for me. And don't come back with excuses. Scary..." and her mother would go on muttering, while Little Sam changed and took that list from the table top. The list was always a long one.
She would run to the shop at the far end of the street to fetch the things. The street was not exactly, straight, and neither was it suited for running, especially not barefoot. But Little Sam, couldn't manage it any other way. Besides, if she didn't run, the shop would close. And if she didn't run fast enough, she would not be able to bargain for the goods. Her mother would be mighty annoyed about that, and Little Sam couldn't let that happen. Her way back was harder, with the baggage and she fell too often. Not that it was the pebbles, exactly, but her feet couldn't carry her anymore. She was so weak, her mama always said that. She would go back, often with too many scrapes and deliver. Her mama would still be unhappy. Why couldn't Little Sam do anything right?
Little Sam never quite knew why, but things were different now. Now her mama greeted her with a hug. Willy faced the tragedies now. And as much as Little Sam loved Willy, she would not trade her current mother for anyone. Not even her best friend. |
Submission Name: Little Sam
