When: 19 April 2002
Where: Grayburn Road
Who: My Bubby
Weather: Hot, dry
Book: Bill Bryson’s Notes from a Small Island
During Gym class my pants were stolen. That was par for the course at Wilson Middle School. The dean of discipline promised me that she would let me know if it turned up in the lost and found, which was somehow a normal response.
The next time I had gym, nothing of note really happened. Mr. Mills made me run laps, and when I was done I snuck over to an inexplicably placed stack of hay under some trees. It was pretty hot, so I just hung around there talking to one of the girls, Gabby, so called because her name was Gabriela and she had the gift of gab.
After a while, it occurred to my that my Bubby was waiting to pick me up on the street, and as the gate was unlocked I let myself out early. I’d never done anything like that before. Knowing I wouldn’t be caught, and that if I were it would never follow me, certainly made me feel like I could actually do it. Every other gate at the school was locked until 3:30, and everybody demanded that I accept this confusion.
I got out onto the back street and got into the car, turned the radio on. The song sounded old, different from what I’d been hearing for the past several months. But I liked it, it complemented the dryness and the heat as we pulled away.
Next: Jack Johnson makes me sleepy.