Day 2 Assignment (B)

The 'One' Door You'll Never Forget

Selling Girl Scout cookies was no easy task for a shy seven year old.  My encouraging mother would drive me around to go knock doors.  I didn't know why her taking my order sheet with her to work didn't accomplish the task.  In one day she'd fill up two whole sheets!  She'd scour the neighborhoods of people she knew so that I wouldn’t feel as nervous.  Each new neighborhood led me to another 'Mom's connection', yet still stranger to me.  Mom wouldn't get out and walk with me because I needed 'experience'.  But, she'd discretely trail behind me in her car.  I'd hear the tires crunching the tiny pebbles into the asphalt as it inched along somewhere behind me.  
My feet trudged along heavily with reluctance, but duty to my Mom’s ideal of Girl Scout salesmanship pressed my small frame forward.  Not knowing who would answer the door, what they would say, or even worse, what I should say, was terrifying.  Mom and I would rehearse what to say, but I'd forget as soon as the door handle jiggled to reveal a person on the other side.  For example, I knocked the neighbor's door that lived next to Mom's friend, Rhonda.    I didn't get a word in before he said, “Oh, crap.  Winifred, they’re here again.  No, no Woman!  A different one.” To which I meekly replied, “Thank you, anyway,” and turned to trudge to another door.   

If a regular door approach wasn't terrifying enough, there was always that 'one door’ you would always remember. The one you could never forget.  My mother dropped me off at the gate to our last stop of the evening.  We lived in the country, so the dirt driveway was a familiar scene.  I grabbed my order sheet and opened the door to approach the door in the distance.  The door closing must have alerted this person's dogs, because the next thing I knew was Mom shouting, "Just don't show them you're afraid."  So, I kept walking... one step in front of the other.  My head hung low.  I didn't want to see how close the growling mutts came to nipping me.  Out of the corner of my eyes I saw white gnashing teeth and deep gutteral growling.  Their feet splayed out and gripping the dirt with their claws.  My heart pounded in my ears, yet I could hear each step I took along the dirt road.  
My black, stiff-soled Girl Scout shoes made a distinct sandy cement crunch, and I knew I had finally reached the house's front door.  The fierce vermin didn't relent in the least.  White knuckles timidly rapped on the worn, wooden door.  I didn't dare tempt these beasts with any reason to get closer, but hoped these owners would call them off.  The only thing running through my mind was not Girl Scout cookie related.    More like intense wailing, "Please, MAKE these dogs stop SCARING me! 
The door opened and my heart jumped with enough relief to get out the phrase I'd repeated over a hundred times, " Would you... like to buy some... (gulp) girl scout cookies?"  Dogs still barked all around me.  It was a young boy, about my age. He shook his head a little confusedly... and closed the door.  

Disbelief stunned me and I froze for a small moment.  No rescue had come.  I understood a deeper meaning of rejection.  Then, reality reminded me of the distance I still had to tread back to the car.   On my way back, the ruthless beasts took on more confidence.  Their nipping dared closer.  Their growls grew more fierce.  Their teeth more visible. My head hung even deeper, trying to hide what I didn't want to see.   

The latch to the car door popped.  Mom's arms wrapped around me and hefted me to the backseat.  My door slammed shut with the order sheet caught in the jam.  It stayed there.  She hugged close to the car as she made her way back to the driver's seat.  A few seconds of muted growls and a wounded screech was followed by the door latch popping.  Mom got in and I noticed her rapid breathing - which never accompanied selling cookies before.  Neither did getting bit by dogs.  “Did they get you?!” She asked with no hesitation.  I timidly shook my head, not budging from where I was deposited.  We rode home in silence… well, except for the sound of Mom cursing the could-be rabid animals and her stroking her leg through her jeans where the dogs succeeded in their pursuit. 

Day 2 Assignment (A)

The Would-be Kiss

It was an enjoyable party.  Everyone was inside eating treats and talking excitedly.  Smiles and happy laughter filled the air.  I enjoy laughter and happiness almost as much as I enjoy having space - of which there was none in this packed residence.  Filled with enough joy for the time, I meandered outside.  I glanced at the stars, their watchful gazing from a distance.  It was a mostly clear night with just a hint of wispy clouds.  Even the clouds gave me my space.  A slight breeze brought my arms to fold in around me to break the chill.  I knew the backyard from previous family gatherings. Most of them an excuse to swimoff the summer heat. The crepe tree was blossoming its wrinkly pink flowers now and giving off a slight aroma.  The grass under my bare feet green, firm, and supportive of my casual jaunt leading around the corner to the pool.  Reaching the poolside, I stood there taking in the wind.  It brushed against my loose hair and made gentle ripples in the water’s surface.  My toes rested over the curved, cemented edge.  Giving into temptation, I touched my toes to the water making ripples of my own.  Though careful of my balance, the edge of my dress skimmed the surface and now weighted it down ever so slightly.   It was peaceful, romantic.  The laughter in the distance made it more so.  

The gentle footsteps on the grass from behind made me aware that I was no longer alone.  As if absorbed in the moment I couldn’t turn around.  A soft gesture was made.  A hint of a smile crept on my face to show pleasure in the solitary company, different than the crowds earlier.  He stood behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders.  His hands were warm and strong.  His breathing became heavier, as if preparing for something.  There were few words and a soft yet firm gesture of his hand bringing my chin around to the side and raising my head close to his lips.  Becoming clearer in my head of where this was leading, knowing that this is not what I wanted, I backed away.  It was kind, but not right.  The romance of the previous natural scene discipating.  “Please… don’t.” There was space between us now, different than before. Looking down, I walked away.  Back down the sweet, sensory-filled path I previously had ventured, now invaded upon and sad, feeling forgotten.  My steps were quicker than before.  Out of the line of sight, I looked back.  Then, in sadness, I turned to the screen door and entered back into the safety of the crowd.