I was always one of those kids, excited to go back to school, this time of year, the excitement would begin to build. This next year will be better, I will make more friends, I will be popular, I will be smarter, boys will like me, girls will like me, I will have fun, I will… I want… I need... I wish… I hope…
All through my elementary school career the homeroom classes would be posted on the front doors to the school; and I would go to the school pretty much every day on my bicycle and check the doors to see if my homeroom had been posted yet… I wanted to know before everyone else. Homeroom changes everything. Would I be with my friends? Would I have to make new friends? Would I get the good teacher?
More than the curiosity….I loved being in and around the school when no one else was there. I could play on anything I wanted. There was no line-up for the tire swing, no body bigger and scarier than I hanging around by the hopscotch. No boys playing handball next to the gym doors. It was all mine. It was calm and peaceful. Empty of friends, bullies, teachers and obligations… All alone I was much stronger….
Every once and a while, (if you were as persistent as I am you would also know this), I could find an open door or window to shimmy through and go exploring.
(I’m not going to lie… I was a total chicken-shit, so I’d usually get freaked out and run for the hills after ten minutes or so, but I loved exploring the empty school.)
My elementary school was such a piece of work, so many buildings were added on after the fact, that it was an architectural puzzle, finding all the pieces that didn’t quite belong. Lunchrooms were changed into classrooms, classrooms were divided into two, temporary trailers were added on ten years before and were no longer temporary. Upstairs, downstairs, around the corner, up in a loft, through the gym… there was always so much to explore. The problem was it was always dark in that school, no matter if it was the middle of the day (this made it scary); but it was also always cool, even in the heat of the summer (which made me want to be in there as long as possible). I would get caught up seeing all the things I saw everyday through the year and didn’t notice; in the summer it all felt so new, different and exciting.
Then I’d hear a noise. A mouse, a janitor, a teacher getting ahead, the wind on a window, a car pulling into the lot; I was never quite sure, and I certainly never waited around…
I would run as fast as I could to the nearest door. I would throw it open, blinded by the sunlight and struck with the wave of heat that would hit me. It felt like I was entering a completely different world than I’d left behind. I would run all the way to the park, and hide in the little wooden house.
The little house that had my name carved into the balance beam.
The little house bean had made me climb to the roof of.
The little house, who’s roof Bean had made me jump off of.
I would lay there on the cool wooden floor, catching my breath, feeling the sting on the back of my throat as I tried to calm my heart.
I would eventually peek my head up, see if anyone was watching. Go back to the entrance and find my bike. Praying no one saw me.
Not sure of what the punishment would be if they did…. I just knew I didn’t want to be caught.
I would always take one last peek at the front door to see if by some miracle the homeroom’s had been posted yet, they usually weren’t… then I would take my time riding my bike back home.
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