Mother Knows Best(book 1)

Entry 4

I read to education as I said, grandma Editha invested in a couple coins a day to keep me in that school, she told that no colored child gonna put her money in vain, so I worked my best. Out of the blue, I met a friend.

      Judes Stirling, a governors son, who's masculinity delayed, thus, making him more beautiful and less "manly". He had a brother who had pale, acne skin and a hair thinner than thread and blond. Yes, had, cause the poor boy of adult age was murdered for being able to control and manipulate fire, magic born.

       But Judes, who had thick hips at the small age of twelve, a baby-face with bright pink lips, didn't have a single stench of magic on him at the time. And he seemed to be the only one who wasn't afraid of me or looked down upon me, therefore, our friendship bloomed like young spring flowers.

      He wasn't the best reader either and neither was I, but we pushed each other to read more despite our differences. He was a sibling-less and mother-less, boy of twelve that loved dresses and dolls and round caramel candies that my grandmother always gave him when he came over. And I was a sibling-less and parentless, girl of eleven that loved to scrape for work and dirty quarters that always swung on his swing with him. Most found our innocent bonding to be foolish since he was pale and I was really dark, but nevertheless, we cared not for skins but for hearts.

My memories of him all begin with me running up his painted blood red porch, then jumping on his gray swing set. He was always waiting for me, in a bright white skirt with the bottoms stained with dirt, thick boots and an ugly sweater that stung his skin red. And I came always with my dirty overalls, three pieces of caramel candies in my pockets, and my hair in two thick braids.
Judes smiled, dimples cutting in his cheeks, and a ring of his hair cupped in his hands. His hair wasn't like his brothers, it wasn't thinner than thread and it wasn't blond, it naturally curled at the ends and was thick in texture and light brown. And it was his vanity. At school, especially amongst adults, he hides it, often tucking it into a hat or wrapping it in a scarf, but everyone who's watched him knows that his hair was something he loved the most. It was simply his vanity.

"Lilura, I was just thinking about you! You know, you're going to be something one day," he shouts, sitting on the swing and kicking his stockinged legs up. "Come on join me!"

   "You started without me," I remember telling him, then registering what he said as he slowed down the swing. "What's got you saying all that wrap?" I said.

      Once he stopped it, I joined him, plopping myself next to him, our hips touching from the tight spacing. Judes turns to look at me, his blue orbs staring into my brown ones. "You can be something," he says, then pushed my thick braids behind my shoulder and a loose curl behind my ear. "You've got nice brows! A pretty face and you damn sure a smart one."

Then he traced the thick hairs above my eye socket and talked more. "Nobody can say you aren't attractive! You ought to become something of yerself, you ought to darlin'."

At the time, as a little kid in grieving Norbury, I didn't believe him, so I move his finger away and scoffed. This boy was something at times, but so was I, so it never bothered me much. We kept swinging, giggling, and watching people pass by. Soon enough, he's smiling ahead, drooling a bit, because tall, lean, and handsome Jae-Sun is coming down the road with a part of his face stuffed in a book.

He was fine; with high, wide cheekbones nicely pronounced, a long but attractive nose, light skin and small dark brown eyes; and his hair, another beauty, dark, medium length and tossed cutely by the wind.

"He's so fine," I remember Judes whispering, twisting some of his hair in a finger curl. "He can read my body signals any day, he's just too fine."
I couldn't deny it either, Jae-Sun was fine, and an honest little boy, who helped the old folk cross the street. And I wanted him to be by me, but he was taken or will be, see his family was rich, so he already had a marriage planned. To whom though? I never knew.

But he was a really cute guy.

Besides him though was Azazel Freeman, who we nicknamed pretty eyes, simply because it was eyes that made him unbearably beautiful. Take them away from him and he was dirt ugly. He was tall, taller than Jae-Sun and most colored boys his age, but smooth looking. Too smooth to produce any valuable work. That didn't stop young me from crushing hard.

He spotted me on the swing, and also Judes, who winked and puckered his lips, then hastened his steps, pulling Jae-Sun along. I couldn't blame him, but I wanted him to stay just a little bit longer. At least, you know, for my young mind to create different scenarios in my head that possibly will never happen.

If I could give little me advice, I would have told her to stay as far away from those eyes as possible and to keep her dress down and her shorts beneath them up. He wasn't worth the ache I am facing now, as I hide with my back against two boulders, in a cave with no real light but a soft blurred one that helps me write.

-Lilura