“Mommy, can we go now?” I whined as the four year old me tugged on my mom’s oversized, blue t-shirt.
“Just a second Vannie.” She grabbed the silver keys and her sunglasses from the kitchen counter then walked towards the living room. I followed, running through the house in my water shoes.
I skipped out our front door, down the porch stairs, and stood next to the red, Yamaha four wheeler. Mom followed close behind, her vintage Ray Bans perched on her nose. She got on first, stretching her lean legs up and over the leather seat. She pushed the key in and the ATV immediately revved its engine and switched to power mode.
I jumped up behind, grabbing my mom tightly around her waist. She changed to third gear and pressed on the break, and we went flying through the grass. The familiar apple trees that I never got to eat from and the pigs lying in their pens all whizzed past us. It was all magical, the property my family owned. It was a distant kingdom in another land and I was the only one who could conquer it.
When we got to the pond, I almost jumped off, but my legs were too small to get off the seat. So my mother lifted me off in one graceful movement, and I raced toward the shallow end of the water. I looked past my glittery, pink bathing suit and watched as guppies and tadpoles swam around in circles. I giggled a little and waded into the water.
The cool, soggy mud covered my feet, their invisible hands trying to pull me down farther with every second. With each step I took, the water got deeper and the mud got thicker.
I looked back at my mother, watching me from the wooden bench my father built under one of our birch trees. She was pointing to the life jacket in her hands that I had to wear. I groaned.
She threw the jacket above her head and it catapulted into the water, a few feet away from me. It splashed and dunked under the water for a millisecond until it finally settled and started floating on the top.
I grabbed it; my upper arms now covered in droplets of pond water from the splash, and buckled the jacket around my chest and tummy. Without hesitation, I knew what I wanted to do next.
I doggy paddled over to the small island in the middle of the pond. Completely devoid of space and animals, the island was covered with pine trees and weeds. Dandelions had started sprouting along the edges of the tiny piece of land and the un-mowed grass was up to my knees. Sun rays focused on the tip-top of the pine trees, making them look so large and sacred.
There was a small perch by one of the larger pine trees that I could get easily up on. I hoisted myself up onto a dry patch of grass. I leaned down and buried my nose in the soil, smelling the scent of the one place in the world that was fully mine. Pine needles brushed against my face, leaving rough scratches on my forehead and nose. I didn’t care.
I stood up on my island, feeling what Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin must have felt like when they landed on the moon. Confident, powerful, excited….
I surveyed my island. Hanging out there was fun, but yet I was so bored. I had thought about bringing my Barbie dolls to the island so I could play, but mom didn’t want them to get wet or dirty. So I walked around the fifteen foot island, taking in our pond and all the hills surrounding, experiencing the natural beauty of where I was for the first time.
A minute later, my four year old attention span couldn’t deal with the boringness any longer. I walked back to the perch, lowered myself down into the water, and began to swim back to my mommy.
...I'm kind of jealous. Oh and I don't think that comma should be there-the pink comma-.
