2021—Favorite Childhood Memories
cricket fighting paraphernalia
WINNING SUBMISSION:
She once walked the spine of the purple mountains with her first 2 legs. The sky was infused with deep blue ink and the land below was rusty and red. She had stopped as she saw a mist of pale light struggling to sprout from beneath a purple stone. She lifted the rock with one of her feet and a creature of 7 lights sprang out like a snake. It was so soft. It sucked in its first breath and stretched its young, narrow body, which was already taller than hers, pointing towards the sky. She nestled her cheek to the light and held it close to her legs.
On her last visit to the purple mountains – so long ago now – there were 29 creatures of 7 lights. The sky was still blue and deep, except for the top, where thick white clouds wove over the dome-like cocoons. Giant, monstrous rainbows slowly brandished their heads like slugs, steaming out nimbus clouds and scaring the sapphire field. She yelled and cried, standing on one leg while lifting all the others toward the heavens, but the noise was soon washed away by the growling of thunder and rain.
2.
Why is it when I try to think back to my childhood I can only draw from times that have been photographed? I fill in the blanks, pretending I remember where I was before and after - assuming a feeling according to how big the smile or how messy the hair. Is that what we all do? Or do we just think about other favorite memories – the ones we keep reliving again and again, telling at a party or at dinner with friends and family. We must be making those up too, or at least elaborating on the truth a little bit and not getting the facts straight. So I wonder, did I really make you smell a tic-tac in the car and you sniffed it so hard you had to go to the hospital to get it out? Did we really go to the field at school to launch mini rockets on the weekend with Dad? Did I really eat an ice cream sandwich the day you were born?
3.
Knew a painter once who wanted Norah Jones more than
I’ve ever wanted anything, you’d ask why Norah
and they’d point into themselves and through to their mother’s
car listening to Don’t Know Why while she grocery shopped
leaving the kid in the car to learn love.
4.
there
was a song you probably know,
I mean maybe you remember it - he used to sing it to me in the bath
and we would sing together - my darling clementine, do you know that one, you probably do.
I used to think it was grand and funny and i would laugh i remember bubbles everywhere in my hair too oh my darling oh my darling oh my darling clementine you were lost and gone forever oh my darling clementine! I used to think that it was your song a special song
you had made up or knew as a kid but then i found out
it was this famous song and i was a little disappointed
oh my darling oh my darling oh my dear are you still lost
and gone forever what a pity my dear clementine.
if i peel you will you unravel
be sweet and good to me
?
5.
i remember the first thing i asked was: how will we split the dozen mini donuts then?
i did not know about division, or fractions, i've only ever memorized my six-times-table. if my older brother and i each had six mini donuts, another brother would mean i'll only have... four.
no, there's no way.
yet when i finally saw you, and your red-speckled tiny face, your tiny hands, your tiny mouth... i knew things were going to be okay.
i knew i'd have six mini donuts for at least a few more months before you learned how to chew.
6.
Pink is my favorite color,
because it’s the color of people’s cheeks
when they feel loved,
and the color of scrapes and bruises that
remind me of when i was a little girl,
crawling around with holes in my jeans
on my knobby pink knees,
not caring about my torn clothes but still
running around, pretending to be
some magical creature,
then i would jump into the water
and my feet would merge together,
forming scales and a tail;
i would swim like the most graceful fish,
splashing around in my own sweaty water
and i didn’t have a cell phone,
so it was okay to swim in my clothes
or get pushed in by my big brother,
whose knuckles were pink,
which is why pink
is my favorite color.
7.
The way she cooked;
Southern comfort.
I'd sneak out slices of cheese
From the block she kept in the freezer.
Nothing went to waste,
At grandma's house.
Every last drop of bacon grease,
Kept safely in a jar
For frying chicken in.
And speaking of chicken,
I’d always get scolded
For leaving behind the veins and the cartilage
That I hated to eat
But grandma savored.
In the freezer outside
A hidden treasure chest
With a bucket of Neapolitan ice cream
Nestled inside.
I would only scoop from the chocolate stripe
Because it was my favorite
And I got scolded again.
And In the back yard was a cumquat tree
Tart as a lemon but with skin so sweet.
Big sister hoisted me up
So I could pluck the sour fruits.
I haven’t tasted one since,
But if I did,
I could go back in time.
To when I would pretend
That the trees in grandma’s yard
became a forest,
And I, its explorer.
I'd fill my pockets with mushrooms
And return with dirty feet and scrapes on my cheek
And get scolded again by grandma.
I miss her so.
8.
Things that make a house home:
White roses, dehydrated and placed in a vase.
Crumpled crusty socks scattered across the wood floors.
The yeasty aroma of bread in the oven.
Soap bubbles bursting on dishes in the sink,
Trinkets coated in dust that leave a light stain when moved.
Fuzzy blankets that collect breakfast crumbs.
Withered plants in pots gone unwatered,
6 different bottles of body wash living behind the shower curtain.
Little dribbles of every paint shade dried into the cracks of the wood floors.
And at least someone else,
To watch movies with.
9.
In a clear piece of memory, one time my grandfather suddenly stopped cutting the grass then asked me how old I was, I answered I was six. In fact, I don’t know why this piece is extremely clear. Maybe it is because so many beautiful things are freeze-framed in the year of my six year old. Being six means that I didn’t know what worries are yet, and that the sources of happiness in life became pretty simple. The biggest unhappiness was because the cornstalk I planted had produced only one ear of corn, but in a few days I would forget about it. I guess many people, including me, like to go back to childhood because it brings us so many impressive memories and happiness. Later, we gradually leave our childhood behind when we get older. This happiness is also put in a box, which is covered with dust, and we just look at it from time to time.
As time goes by, now there are no sheep, no yard, my grandparents went back to the city, and I am not six years old anymore.
10.
My heaven is summertime / summer love / pressing cold soda cans to our foreheads / smelling frozen aluminum / bodega AC / rooms so small the chilled air gets caught in corners / rest from outside rays / the Paulina platform with collective sweat / Lake Michigan and mythic waves / lots of swimming / aging ladies floating feet apart / pruning skin from freshwater / sisterhood refusing to drown / a slicing cold shower before bed / reality shows smacking gum on the tv / gin condensing in the freezer / In this heaven / the cicadas have no reason to scream / but they do any way / my soaking feet / fresh out of the shower / leaving tracks to the bedroom / outside cicadas wail / sound waves overwhelming heat waves / just to be heard / and to have me listen / a place of abundant ears / all listening/ finding where relief clings in the body / head pulled out of the plastic freezer / there is nowhere else to be.