Wild Travel

Chapter 4

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Chapter Description: Kim’s adventure in daycare continues and the evening’s great event draws closer. Will the little ballerina manage to avoid the worst case of stage fright?

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“Gather children.” Mrs. Robinson said, clapping her hands after some time had passed. “Greeting-time.”

Kim and Cathy had made it until serving the pudding when Mrs. Robinson called them. As they turned around Kim felt a bit sorry to leave the kitchen behind. She had started to play as to not attract attention nor disappoint Cathy, but had found playing to cook was a lot more fun than cooking for real for yourself or your sick mother.

Not really knowing what would come next, Kim followed Cathy to the central rug where their caretaker waited. The children and the adult formed a circle.

“Time for the Welcome-Song.” Mrs. Robinson declared and started a cd-player which began playing some tune.

“Good Morning,” she began.

“Good Morning,” the preschoolers replied … except Kim who needed a moment to catch on what song it was.

“How are you,” Mrs. Robinson sang.

“How are you,” the kids echoed, Kim’s own voice going under as she was reluctant to use her full voice as the other kids did.

“It so nice to have you here with me today,” Mrs. Robinson continued. “Good Morning.”

“Good Morning,” the kids echoed.

“How are you,” Mrs. Robinson sang.

“How …” Kim began.

“Just fine!” The kids replied, completely sinking the wrong line of the girl.

“Howdy, how do you do, hello, good day.” Mrs. Robinson concluded. “All sit down!”

Every child nearly instantly fell to their butt, Kim being the last to do so.

You are slow, a voice in her head told her, to which she replied: No, just rusted.

The absurdity of it made her grin.

“A good morning again children,” Mrs. Robinson said. “I’m happy to tell you that Kim and Cathy have a very special day today. They will be ballerinas and dance in front of their families and many others. Kim, why don’t you show us a step you're going to perform today?”

Kim’s smile suddenly froze. She could not remember a single sequence! Still – an inner voice telling her not to disappoint Mrs. Robinson – she slowly rose, frantically trying to remember what remained of her training after more than 15 years from her perspective. All eyes were on her, which didn’t help. Suddenly she realized she didn’t have to go back so far and simply imitated Cathy’s movement from earlier on. She did so much clumsier than her friend had done, but as she finished her pirouette, Mrs. Robinson clapped and so did the children. Relieved she sat down again.

“Very nice Kim!”, Mrs. Robinson praised. “What about you Cathy?”

Cathy gave a wide grin, rose, jumped tree steps and then made a split as easy as going into the knees. Kim clapped with the others. She was impressed, as her friend’s movements suddenly seemed so much more gracile than her own. With this came a slight shift of how she saw Cathy. Where before had just been a little child, just like any other preschooler for a college student, Kim suddenly found someone her equal. Moreover, Kim had never been practicing much after leaving ballet and had no idea if she could do the split, even with this young body of hers…

I have no idea how to dance tonight, Kim suddenly realized, as she tried to recall the basic steps. Did I really thought I could go there, do something and be as good as the others?

Kim realized she had. It was reckless, of course, but from the perspective of a twenty-year old, everything a five-year old did had seemed child’s play. Right now, she found that her perspective had shifted quite a bit. As Cathy took place besides her, grinning widely over the positive attention, it felt way grander than mere child's play.

I need to jump back into my time, Kim thought desperately.

“They will have a great time today, which is why their mommies will take them a bit earlier than usual,” Mrs. Robinson concluded. “Now, who wants to tell us how the weather is today?”

Their caretaker looked earnestly around and fixed her eyes finally on the little boy in the overall with whom Kim had played at the table.

“Yes, you Andrew.”

The boy practically jumped up and ran to the window as if he just had gotten a mission of life and death.

“It is blue,” he said. “And the sun smiles and the cloud are … are …”

“Light?” Mrs. Robinson helped.

The boy nodded and Kim decided to be more careful over using big adult words from now on.

“Well then,” she concluded. “Show it on the outside-picture.”

Andrew ran to a sheet with the drawing of a window, hanging near. He searched in a box filled with stickers nearby, until he found the right one and put a smiling sun, a blue sky and a green meadow in the window.

“Looks great Andrew,” Mrs. Robinson said as he returned to the circle. “Say ‘Thank you’ children.”

“Thank you,” the kids shouted, some even looking envious.

“Now,” their caretaker said, looking around. “Time to get the day started.”

This was no empty promise as Kim quickly realized. The first thing was a rhyme to make them move and touch their body where the song indicated.

“Teddy bear, teddy bear turn around.

Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch the ground.

Teddy bear, teddy bear, wiggle your toes.

…”

Kim found she got better and better with this, being quite as quick as the other children.

Next came the Mirror Game in which each child stood in front of another and in turn had to repeat its movements or make movements which it had to repeat. Kim’s mirror was Cathy and as she saw her return her movements such naturally, the feeling of distance Kim should have felt for a real little girl dwindled nearly completely without her really noticing it.

Next came some art. They made little paper-versions of themselves. To this they colored forms of clothing with colorful pencils, then cut them out – with security-scissors of course – and glued them together. Mrs. Robinson connected the little figures and hand them over the entrance. Kim wasn’t as enthusiastic as the rest, still she felt oddly proud and connected to the others when seeing the result.

After this there were some Finger Rhymes.

“Open, shut hem,

Open, shut them,

Give a little clap.

Open, shut them,

Open, shut them,

Lay them in your lap.

…”

Next was learning time in which Mrs. Robinson gave every one of them jobs they had to describe. Kim got teacher.

“I umhh …”

Kim pondered. Creating a curriculum, joining the union, downloading schedules and evaluating test scores came to her mind, but these were big words.

“Take time,” Mrs. Robinson calmed her. “Just think of how you will sit in school one day and what a teacher will do.”

“I write big words?” Kim guessed.

“Good!” Mrs. Robinson praised. “What more?”

“I watch kids write. I help them with … big numbers. I help them sing.”

“There is less singing in big-kids-school,” Mrs. Robinson clarified, “but maybe you could be a music teacher.”

“Mhmhm,” Kim agreed, realizing she should have known this. “I talk with the pa … with mommies and daddies.”

“Right!” Her caretaker said satisfied. “You would make a good teacher.”

Kim felt oddly moved by this praise and for a moment considered this career advice.

Next, they were led outside, where they had to walk on walking blocks and manage to pass under a stick Mrs. Robinson held. Then they had to hop in hula-hoops laid out for them, and finally race around in groups, while handing the next one an empty toilet paper roll so it was their turn. Strangely Kim didn’t find these activities beneath her in anyway. Even her dress didn't feel too exposing anymore.

Would be nice if I could pull it off so I could run faster, Kim thought, only to realize a second later what she had thought. What …

Before she could think more, Andrew handed her the toilet-paper-roll and she had to race on.

After cleaning up the toys of their outside activities, they were led inside again. Mrs. Robinson declared it was snack-time. Picking the box out of her puppy-backpack, Kim discovered her mommy had made her two strawberry-marmalade sandwiches, carrot sticks and organic milk. Surprised about how hungry she was she no longer cared that she hadn’t been asked about it.

After finishing their snacks, Mrs. Robinson allowed them free time. Cathy practically dragged Kim in the doll-corner to play mommy with two other girls and she reluctantly gave in. As she watched her friend rock the baby-doll as she herself pretended to put clothes in the toy-washer while the other girl pretended to prepare dinner, Kim felt with security that she had never liked those games much.

Still better than playing with the boys?, she wondered, looking at the boys who were playing with cars in the other corner.

After some time, Mrs. Robinson clapped her hands and started the music-player, standing in the middle of the rug.

“Gather in a circle children.” She ordered. “Story-time-song.”

She pressed a button on the cd-player and the tune of Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star started.

“Hands go up, and

Hands go down!

I can turn myself around.

I can stand up

On one shoe.

I can listen

So can you!

I can sit. I’ll show you how!

Story time is starting now!”

Kim followed the instruction on every step. She found herself loving the tune, the simple instructions and the fun she had with the other children. As she looked up from where she sat on the ground, watching her caretaker on her chair as intensely as any other child around her, she wondered which story it would be.

“Today I will tell you a story about what you can do if you believe in yourself.” Mrs. Robinson explained. “It is called “The Little Engine That Could.”

“Chug, chug, chug. Puff, puff, puff. Ding-dong, ding-dong.” The woman began. “The little red train rumbled over the tracks. She was …”

Kim felt captivated by her caretaker’s voice. She let herself be carried through the story and smiled at the occasional pictures their caretaker showed them, not paying attention to the words written on the pages. Without realizing it, she held her knees to her body, rested her chin on it and made herself small, finding it comforting beyond words.

“I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could.” The caretaker concluded after what seemed an eternity to Kim and closed the book. “I think we all can learn something of it.”

Everyone smiled.

“Now for most of you it is nap-time,” Mrs. Robinson declared, “but I think Kim’s and Cathy’s mommies will soon be there to take them by now.”

Both girls turned their heads to the entrance. Indeed, their mommies stood in the door. Cathy instantly jumped up and raced to hers and Kim, not wanting to make her mommy sad, followed as quick as she could, being rewarded with a warm embrace. While their mommies talked with Mrs. Robinson, Kim and Cathy picked up their backpacks and changed into their sandals. Their caretaker even accompanied them to the door.

“You have to tell me tomorrow how your big event was.” Mrs. Robinson asked the girls as they stood in the doorway.

“Yes!” Cathy promised enthusiastically.

Kim just nodded, feeling suddenly a stone in her stomach as she knew she wouldn’t be there tomorrow, nor by this event if she could prevent it. As the door was closed on them and locked on the inside, Kim felt the stone getting heavier. While just a few hours before – how long had it really been? – it had appeared to her like a prison full of inmates she didn’t like, now it felt like a happy place full of games, friends and laughter. This was made even truer as she knew she would never have felt so happy in any school or even in college.

“Hey Kim,” her mother called her, having already gone a few steps away. “Come on, we got to go.”

Reluctantly Kim obeyed.

 

***

 

To Kim’s surprise they didn’t go to the cars, but their mothers led them – hand in hand – over the street to the playground. First, she wondered why, but then she and Cathy were shooed off to the play-equipment while the women set down on a bench and began to talk.

“Kim come!” Cathy told her, standing already between her and a slide.

“Our mommies took us early so they could talk,” Kim told her.

The other girl looked past her and then shrugged.

“Grown-up talk is boring,” she declared. “Come play.”

With this Cathy turned and walked to the slide and after throwing a last look at the bench – their mothers weren’t keeping a close eye on them – Kim followed her friend up the ladder. Up on the top she hesitated. It wasn’t much higher than herself at twenty, but it seemed so far down right now. Still, seeing her friend already down and on her way up again, Kim let herself slide down.

She was very glad she did! The girls went up and down the slide at least fifteen times. Then they chased each other around in the sand. Some of it went into Kim’s sandal and she briefly thought how close this came to her wish for a trip to the beach she had wished so often. Next, they were all over a climber Cathy was first to climb to the top. Then they raced back to the slide where Kim arrived first, only to race to the Merry-Go-Round, which they brought up to a breathtaking speed. As they landed in the soft sand, Kim looked at a group of toddlers, not one much older than 2, playing in the sand with buckets some meters away from them. Suddenly she felt rather big, since even now she could have fun with her friend rather independently.

This feeling of being big lasted just as Kim’s and Cathy’s mothers appeared over them.

“Time to go home.” Cathy’s mother said.

“Yes,” Kim’s mother added. “I know two little girls who need a bit of rest for their great event.”

With this both adults extended their hands and both girls took them, though Kim felt a slight resentment of being led around again.

Can’t they leave this to our own decision?, she wondered. We are the ones having to dance later!

 

***

 

As her mother strapped her in the safety seat, Kim thought about her next move. She wouldn’t take part in the ballet performance as she simply had no idea how to. No reason to ruin this special event of her, as it turned out, incomplete memory. Still the jump hadn’t been a waste, alone the time she had spent with Cathy had been worth it. It had been the innocent fun she had needed and it left her thinking she would pay this time another visit soon, but for now she decided that it was time to go back to her present.

Feeling snug in the padding of her safety seat, Kim looked out of the window, seeing the world rush by. In the front-seat her mother had started humming again and as Kim pondered the differences between daycare and college. Yawning she drifted to a half-sleep without noticing it. She was only startled out of it, when the door besides her opened and her mother opened her straps, even lifting her out. Blinking in surprise Kim noticed that they were back at their house.

“This was a quick drive,” Kim’s mother commented and handed Kim her puppy-rucksack.

Kim nodded drowsily and followed her mother inside. There she headed straight for the stairs, only to have her mother’s hand on her shoulder stop her.

“Sandals off first, they're full of sand” the adult ordered.

Grumblingly Kim obeyed, longing more and more to be back to her 20-year-old self, where her mother had long since given up on telling her to do so. Determined she climbed the stairs, which seemed even steeper going up than down. Reaching her room Kim went straight to the pile of stuff-toys where the device was hidden. She couldn’t wait for the world to be the right size for her again.

“No play-time Kim.”

Shocked, Kim turned around on her feet, finding her mother standing behind her. The adult had to have followed her the whole way up without her noticing!

“You heard Cathy's mom. It's nap-time,” Kim’s mother declared. “You skipped it in daycare and you still have an exciting day ahead.”

“I’m not little.” Kim insisted. “And not tired.”

“Sure, you are not,” her mother replied, grabbing her under the arms and laying her on her bed. “So, you won’t mind just lying still on your bed for a bit like a big girl.”

Kim knew her mother’s logic was flawed, but as she was going to argue, she found herself being handed Mr. Fluff, whom she automatically hugged.

“You will see, a bit of sleep will make you think much clearer,” the adult declared as she pulled the curtains close, dipping the room in a dim light. “I will wake you soon enough. Promise.”

Kim feigned to obey, resting her head on the pillow and hugging Mr. Fluff, though it was all pretend. As she watched her mother leave her room, she knew she just had to wait for the sound of her steps to dim down, indicating she had left for downstairs. Then she would get up and use the device. Waiting, Kim thought about all the things she could do in a few minutes when she was big again. Drinking a beer, staying awake and driving a car and …

 

***

 

“Wake up sweety,” Kim’s mother woke her. “Time to shine.”

Kim groaned. Had she overslept? Was she late for college? She had had the weirdest of dreams of being a preschooler and … She noticed something large and fuzzy in her right arm. Opening her eyes, she saw it was Mr. Fluff, doing honor to his name by being all softness and comfort… and also very large. Looking up she saw her mother just as she placed a motherly kiss on her forehead. Swiftly, the adult went a few steps away to open the curtain. Blinded by the light for a moment, Kim closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw her very large looking mother standing by her bed, holding a small pink tutu.

“Already excited?” The adult asked.

Kim felt more than excited, she felt terrified. She would have loved to just put the My-Little-Pony-sheet over her head, but knew such little-girl-behavior wouldn’t help her. Eyeing the pile of stuff-toys, she knew she had to be smart, to be grown-up.

“Yes mommy,” she explained, sitting up in her bed. “I will dress up and come down at once.”

“Good. I will help you, it will be quicker,” her mother replied. “We've got to hurry not to be late at your ballet-school.”

Kim wanted to scream. Instead, she hopped out of the bed and got out of her flower-dress. True to her word, her mother helped her in the tights – she had never liked wearing those – by pulling them up her legs. Next Kim was helped stepping into her tutu and gulped as her mother pulled it up, feeling it was a bit too tight between her legs.

“You look so cute!” Her mother declared, studying her from above.

With a feeling of dread, Kim walked to the mirror and found exactly what she had expected. A *cute* little girl in a ballet-tutu. Herself, like in the photo. Except she had smiled when watching the photo, which she felt far from doing.

“Time to make your hair.” Kim’s mother decided.

“Can I do it myself?” Kim asked, feeling not much hope.

“I think I can do it quicker,” her mother replied. “Let me make you the prettiest little girl there is.”

I am no little girl, Kim thought depressed, as she trotted behind her mother, and everyone will laugh.

In the bathroom her mother placed her on a step-stool and began brushing her hair with a thick brush. She did so more thoroughly than Kim herself had ever done and Kim used the whole time to try to think herself out of this situation.

I could pretend to hurt my feet, Kim thought.

Briefly she looked at her small toes, but when she looked up at her mother again, she noticed the glimmer in her eyes. It was something she hadn’t paid attention to, but her mother was so very happy and Kim knew it would be one of her favorite events even in the years to come. Even in the hard years of her illness. Could she take it from her? Even if only for how long it would take her to learn ballet again in more jumps?

“Are you ready?” Kim’s mother asked.

“Yes mommy.”

 

***

 

Kim felt like a liar and too weak to do anything about it. This feeling wasn’t helped by her mother carrying her into the car.

“You need your feet for later,” the adult declared, as she strapped Kim in her safety-seat, “and your pretty slippers need to be clean.”

Kim tried desperately to remember some of the lessons she would need soon, but it was so long ago and the drive to the ballet-school felt very short. As she was carried inside by her mother, seeing many adults already standing around in the entrance area, Kim’s first instinct was to bury her face in her mother’s shoulder. Instead, she was let down on the soft carpet.

“And on with the slippers,” her mother said and pulled out the pink slippers of her bag.

“Mooom …” Kim protested as her mother helped her in them.

She felt like a toddler, worse she felt like every adult was watching her.

This was most likely just paranoia, but someone had noticed her.

“Kim!”

The adult in the little child’s body nearly stumbled as someone threw herself around her. Her mother smiled sweetly and this time Kim had no problem identifying her *attacker*.

“Hi Cathy,” she greeted back.

“I’m so excited,” the girl in the tutu equal to Kim’s stated the obvious. “Mrs. Houser wants us all to come to the training room.”

Not waiting for an answer, Cathy began pulling her friend into the direction. Kim gave a last look to her mother.

“Love you dear,” her mother just said and watched her go. “Don’t worry.”

Reluctantly Kim followed her hopping friend. They passed several adults who paid the little girls in tutu no mind. Kim was unnerved by this. Unnerved by having to pass giants and unnerved by how normal it seemed to everyone. Finally, they passed a door and entered the training room. Kim actually remembered this place and found she recognized Mrs. Houser, their ballet-teacher, too.

No big deal, Kim reminded herself as the watched the woman in a tutu of her own helping a girl stretching on the barre, the pole in front of the mirror, she is the only adult here.

But this wasn’t the whole truth. As far as Kim could remember Mrs. Houser had been an amazing teacher. Understanding and always with a kind voice. Also, she looked beautiful. Her full blond hair always held back by sparkling clips and her whole attitude made her someone all the little girls she trained wished to become one day. Realizing she would never be as pretty or gifted as her had been one of the reasons Kim had decided to leave ballet behind.

Concentrating on the looming disaster in the here and now, Kim looked around, seeing Cathy near a group of girls. Hoping to learn something of what was expected of her, she followed, but was disappointed, as the girls – she vaguely remembered them but not by name – seemingly had more important things to speak about.

“My favorite princess is Snow White,” one of the girls said. “She looks so beautiful sleeping after the witch gave her the apple.”

“Aurora is sleeping, too,” another girl noticed. “And she has a dragon guarding her!”

“Cinderella,” Cathy threw in. “I would love dancing in class slippers.”

“Who is your favorite?” The first girl asked Kim.

“Elsa,” Kim said automatically, not prepared for such a conversation.

The other girls starred at her.

“Who is Elsa?” The second girl asked.

Recognizing her mistake of naming a princess well before her time, she hurried to correct it.

“Saw her on TV once,” she claimed. “But, err... Arielle is even better.”

The other girls looked skeptical, but before they could say something, Mrs. Houser clapped her hands.

“Gather girls!”

One by one, her pupils gathered. Some sitting down, some standing, some giggling, but all listening with intense attention.

“I know you are all very excited, but you don’t need to be. Remember your training and everything will be fine.” She said, calming every child but one. “Time for one last rehearsal.”

Now Kim nearly jumped from relief. She had the opportunity to practice!

Quickly she found herself third in line at the pole with Cathy behind her. Their heads bowed. A soft tune played in the background, the tact of a metronome even clearer in front.

Mrs. Houser made the first move. She made a passé where she moved her leg first in front and then behind the knee. Next came the fondu with the bending of the knees, followed by a stretching of the left leg, another bending of the knees followed by another stretching of the left leg. Next came hopping to the center of the room, a pirouette, then a controlled slithering to the ground. Once rested, she built a bridge with the body, before making a candle. Afterwards they stood up again and made various movements on her toes, Kim couldn’t name. Next came hoping sideways, first left, then right, then back, followed by one split to the front.

Done.

As was Kim. She had followed the movements of her teacher and the other girls as good as she could and something in her had responded to the tact. Still, her movements had been clumsy and lagged behind not just from Mrs. Houser’s, but that of all the other girls, too. This hadn’t been unnoticed.

“Sure, her princess is Arielle,” one of the girls half-whispered to another. “She doesn’t know how to use her legs.”

Kim glared at her, but she felt the words being too close to the truth for her to get a clever comeback. A hand laid on her shoulder. Looking around, Kim saw Mrs. Houser standing next to her.

“What is it?” Her teacher asked.

“I’m … just stiff.” Kim lied.

“Mhh, okay. We still have a bit time.” Mrs. Houser concluded. Make some stretching-practices. And Kim...”

She looked her straight into the eyes.

“Don’t worry. Just give your best.”

Kim nodded and went a bit aside, sitting on the ground and stretching her legs and arms the way she remembered it.

“What is it?” Cathy asked, joining her.

“I will mess up,” Kim said and the honesty in her own voice nearly made her cry. “I will disappoint mommy.”

“You won’t.” The other girl said.

Kim wanted to snap at her. To tell her she was just a dumb little girl who knew nothing. Looking up and seeing the empathy in her friend’s eyes stopped her and made her feel even worse.

“Will,” she just replied.

“You know how I do it?” Cathy asked.

Kim shook her head.

“I make it like the Little Engine.” The girl revealed. “I tell myself I think I can and then I can.”

Kim wanted to tell her that it was just a story, but already their teacher clapped her hands.

“Gather girls,” she told them. “All on your positions and remember, don’t pay attention to your parents, but only me.”

Cathy reached Kim her hand and after a moment of hesitation, Kim took it, standing up and following her friend to their teacher. As Mrs. Houser led them to the stage, she felt oddly thankful for the help of the five-year-old, and took her position with a bit more confidence.

I think I can, Kim told herself. I think I can. I think …

The curtain was pulled open.

 

***

 

I thought I did!, Kim thought excitedly as she raced out of the training room along with the other girls to where their parents waited.

In the first second she had been frozen still by stage freight. Then she had told herself the Little Engine’s mantra again and again and decided to stop thinking about how she didn’t belong here, opting to just listen to her body. Her fear had subsided and as she had followed Mrs. Houser’s lead it had been her body going through the motions. It seemed to remember the month-long training the adult no longer found in her memory. It had felt like no work at all and before she knew it, they all had bowed in front of their families’ cheers. Feeling the applause washing over her had felt like total bliss.

Still totally euphoric she found her mother and hopped into her arms.

“Mommy, mommy I did it!” She exclaimed out of breath and totally at home in her mother’s arms. “Even better than first time!”

“First time?” Her mother asked.

“Uhmm.” Kim laid a finger on her lips. “Than training.”

“And you trained very hard.” Her mother praised her and set her down, pulling a camera out. “Let me capture this.”

Kim smiled broadly in the camera lenses, without a bit of feint. She didn’t care if it would replace the photo she had seen in the album, indeed right now this future felt very far away. The moment her mother had made the picture, Kim could hear other girls laughing, seeing them running around between the adults. Not wanting to miss some fun, she ran after them, not noticing her mother having tears of happiness in her eyes.

The rest of the event felt like a fairy tale to Kim. She ran around with the other little girls talking about their favorite parts of the show. They had soda and cake on stairs and under tables where the adults didn’t bother to watch and giggled over their cleverness. Never had sweet and soft-drinks tasted so good for her. Kim even didn’t mind spending time with the girls who had laughed about her before. It was just a too good time for her to hold a grudge.

When her mommy told her it was time to go, Kim felt a bang of regret. Why couldn’t this last forever? Still, she went to Cathy to say goodbye. This time, she was the one who embraced her friend.

“Thank you!” She told the other little girl. “I wouldn’t have made it.”

“Best friends forever.” Cathy replied, smiling broadly.

Kim smiled back, but it felt false, her good mood suddenly deflated. As she led her daughter outside, Kim’s mother seemed to have noticed.

“You will see her again tomorrow in daycare.” She told her.

Kim nodded, knowing it to be both wrong and true. Her five-year-old self would see Cathy again tomorrow, sharing another fun day of songs, games and laughter at daycare. Back in her own time she had lost contact with Cathy soon after she went to a different elementary school than she did. They had had some more playdates, but it had soon fizzled out. As her mother strapped her in her safety seat – Kim no longer cared about not doing it herself – she swore to herself to search for Cathy over Facebook as soon as she was back.

As mommy drove, Kim noticed something.

“This isn’t the way home!” She said.

“We are going shopping first,” her mother explained.

Kim looked down at herself, suddenly very aware she was still wearing her pink tutu.

“Can I change clothes?” She asked.

“Don’t be silly,” her mother told her. “Everyone will think you look cute!”

Inwardly Kim groaned.

 

***

 

The shopping center was the same Kim did visit often even in her own time, except that everything looked very large. It began with the car park, which seemed like a giant field, with her head barely reaching over the back and front of the parked cars. Which might have been the reason her mother held her hand the whole time until they entered the building. Inside she finally let go, yet strangely Kim didn’t want her to, feeling slightly intimidated by the proportions of the structure.

“Where are we going?” Kim asked, following the adult.

“To get you some clothes,” her mother revealed.

Indeed, they entered a shopping store … one for little children.

“Oh, what a cute ballerina,” the first vendor they met noticed, proving Kim’s mother right. “I’m really envious of this tutu.”

Why don’t you wear one then?, Kim wanted to answer, but kept her mouth shut.

“She had a great performance today and she was so good!” Kim’s mother explained. “Why don’t you show the nice lady one of your step?”

Reluctantly Kim hoped a bit on the floor only to end in a split.

“Amazing!” The vendor praised her. “Do you want to be a ballerina when you are big?”

“Nh Nh, a pro …” She stopped herself. “Something with computers.”

“That is precious.” The woman said smiling. “Most little girls want to be nurses or vets.”

Most little girls are dumb, Kim wanted to reply, but instead she shrugged, knowing the less she said the less suspicious she was. Most little girls are shy, too.

Her mother meanwhile went through lines of clothes, picking a mild pink dress with butterflies, frills, puffed sleeves and even a ribbon behind.

“What do you think of this one?” She asked. “You would be the prettiest girl in daycare.”

Kim imagined wearing such a dress in college and shook her head in terror. Frantically she went over the dresses hanging there and picked a simple blue one. It reminded her somewhat of the one she had worn during her prom.

“This one mommy,” Kim said.

“It is a bit too serious.” Her mother said, taking the dress to hang it back in its place before picking another one. “What about this?”

It was a white dress with frills and a cute puppy on the front. Kim felt desperate. Didn’t she have a vote? Her mother held the dress in front of her and Kim realized she didn’t. She felt childish defiance rise in her, but managed to quell it with adult reasoning. She would never wear any of the dresses, since she would be 20 again before tomorrow. With this knowledge she managed to stoically hold out while her mother and later the vendor fretted around her.

This reached its breaking point when her mother made her try out the first dress and even went in the changing room with her.

“I know you can do it.” Her mother explained, as she helped her out of her tutu. “But we don’t want it to get damaged.”

Kim felt like she had travelled back to toddlerhood.

As she stepped out of the changing room, the vendor was already waiting for them.

“Looks precious.” She noticed. “Perfect summer dress.”

“I thought she might even wear it for her first day in elementary-school.” Kim’s mother explained.

As the adults talked over her, Kim watched herself in the mirror. All about her looks screamed precious innocence.

Why can’t someone shoot me?, she wondered.

They left the shop with two cute dresses and Kim feeling like she should get a badge for self-control.

“Do you want to go to MacDonald’s?” Kim’s mother asked.

“Yeah!” Kim said, feeling suddenly hungry.

That is better than a badge, she thought.

A little later they waited in the line by the shopping center’s MacDonald’s.

“Oh, how cute you look!” The employee behind the counter noticed, when it was their turn. “We can be really happy to have a ballerina here.”

Just serve us, Kim thought behind her false grin.

“What do you want?” The employee asked.

Finally, Kim said and opened her mouth to order a Big Mac.

“Medium Fries with Chicken Nuggets and a 4 piece Chicken McNuggets Happy Meal.” Her mother ordered.

“I want a Big Mac!” Kim protested. It wasn’t just that she was that hungry, but she wanted to try it out with her size.

“Then your eyes are larger than your mouth,” her mother replied smiling. “You already ate cake today, remember?”

Kim opened her mouth to protest more, but she saw that the woman behind the counter already tipped in the order, so she closed it again. The customer was king, not their children.

I’m a millionaire, she wanted to shout, but knew right now she didn’t even own a purse.

A bit later both mother and daughter sat at a table and enjoyed their meal. Kim herself, sitting on her front legs since it was more comfortable, found she didn’t enjoy the small fries and chicken nuggets much, not to speak of the apple-slices. Yet, there had been a little figure of Super Mario in the box and looking at it now – nice, bright colors – made nearly up for it. Still, she couldn’t wait to be back to her real age, drive to MacDonald’s and have a Big Mac, if only out of spite. As she nibbled on an apple-slice and looked around in the room, she noticed infants and toddlers strapped in high-chairs being fed by their parents.

It could be worse.

“Hi!”

Looking at her side, Kim saw a little girl in a pink Minnie Mouse-dress standing next to her.

“Uhm. Hi?”

“Wanna pway?” She asked.

“No,” Kim said outright.

It wasn’t just that she wasn’t in the best mood. The girl looked like two and maybe worse, the frilly dress reminded her of the dress her mother had just bought. What if people saw them and thought of them as just two cute girls? She looked less than half her age! Did she hang around with ten-year-old girls back in her real time?

“Kim,” her mother said. “She asked so nicely.”

Kim shared a look with her mother who really seemed to feel for the girl, then she looked back at the girl who looked totally nervous.

“Fine,” Kim said with a sigh.

Giggling the girl ran to the ball pit and Kim followed less enthusiastically. Ball pits were for toddlers! Still, she dove in the plastic-bath and imitated the girl in throwing some balls around. Despite herself she found it fun. The feeling of soft plastic all around her, of throwing things, of being surrounded by color.

“This wed!” The little girl said proudly, lifting a ball.

Kim nodded and pointed at other balls.

“This is green, blue and this is yellow.”

The girl looked at her as if she was a genius. A bit flattered, but still finding she enjoyed the ball-pit too much for someone her age, Kim stood up.

“Let’s go slide!” Sliding seemed more mature.

The little girl squealed and followed Kim as she ran to the slide. The slide seemed big to Kim and had to be even larger for the girl, still she followed shortly after. In the process her dress lifted, revealing a diaper beneath. This ruined the event for Kim a bit, since what did it say about her, that she could have fun with someone so young?

Not wanting to be rude, she pointed to the swings.

“Swings?”

The toddler nodded.

They swung side by side, laughing as they did so, until the girl’s parent approached.

“Time to say goodbye to the big girl Sabrina,” her father said.

The girl embraced Kim, barely reaching her chest.

“Wanna be a ballerina, too.” She declared.

“You sure will,” Kim promised.

With this the girl raced to her father who took her in her arms and carried her out. The way the toddler looked back at Kim with admiration had to be the same way she and the other girls looked at Mrs. House. Suddenly Kim felt very big and happily hopped back to her mother.

 

***

 

When they arrived back home, it was already getting a bit darker. Kim hurried back upstairs to her room to use the device, but her mother followed close behind. Since she couldn’t lock her door or even properly close it without seeming suspicious, she didn’t dare to take the device out of its hiding place. Sitting at her little table on one of the little chairs, Kim doodled, absentmindedly drawing a sunny morning with color-pencil as she listened to her mother’s footsteps in hope that she would go downstairs again. She didn't dare risk being seen fiddling with the device before she was sure she would have enough time to use it. After a while, no more activity was heard. Kim peered out of her room to make sure her mother was downstairs, but instead she saw light in her mother’s hobby room at the other end of the floor. Curious she walked in the direction, passing the bathroom and noticing that water was being let in the bathtub.

I can use the device when she bathes, Kim thought with relieve.

She followed the floor to the lit room, her ballet-slippers hardly making a sound, only to realize she had been wrong. It wasn’t her mother’s hobby-room, not yet. It was her brother’s room. A typical boy’s room. Posters with old action stars, an insignia of the local baseball-team, an old computer and a few action figures on the windowsill. Kim vaguely remembered it, as she vaguely remembered the uneasy feeling she had had every time she had entered it. It was as if the boy that she had never really known wasn’t dead, but only gone to play or about to come back from school. She had the same feeling now, along with an eerie sense of connection to the boy who had been 10, twice her current age. But the boy, Michael, her brother, was gone and alone in the room she kept so thoroughly clean stood her mother, holding a baseball glove with her back to Kim.

“Mommy?” Kim asked, suddenly terrified of her mother’s stillness.

The woman moved with a startle and her eyes were slightly widened when she turned to her daughter.

“Kim!” She led out a deep breath. “You really surprised me.”

“Sorry,” Kim said.

“No problem,” her mother said, picking her daughter up and holding her close. “It is just that your little ballet-feet hardly make a sound.”

The woman smiled, but Kim could see her eyes were glittering with unshed tears.

“Why are you sad?”

Her mother hesitated a moment, clearly not wanting to talk about it with her child at first.

“It is because of your brother,” Kim’s mother said after a moment. “He would have loved to see you. Your father, too.”

“Boys don’t like ballet,” Kim said doubtfully.

“No, but Michael loved you.” Her mother replied. “He always played with you. Do you still remember?”

Kim thought about it a moment. She wanted to very much, but it had been twenty years for her. Rather than lie she shook her head.

“It is okay.” Her mother said with a sigh, softly striking her face. “You were very little.”

Kim nodded. “I was a baby.”

Her mother laughed.

“Right and now you are a great little ballerina.” She declared, throwing the baseball glove on the bed. “And it is time for a great little ballerina to get bathed.”

The meaning of the words “get bathed” vs. “take a bath” slowly sank in Kim’s shocked mind as she was carried by her mother through the floor in the direction of the bathroom.

“Mommy, you don’t need to!” The adult in the preschooler body insisted, as her mother let her down to stand on the soft bathroom rug.

“Oh, but we don’t want you to go to bed all sticky.” Her mother insisted. “I think Mr. Fluff wouldn’t want to sleep next to you then.”

Desperately Kim looked from the half-filled bathtub to her mother who stood near the door, blocking her exit.

“Not wanting to leave your pretty ballerina dress, do you?” Her mother asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll have it washed for next week.”

Giving in, Kim began to undress, beginning with her slippers and then her tutu – which had become something hard to say goodbye to indeed – until she stood in her undie.

“I don’t think Big Bird wants a bath,” her mother noticed, referring to the motive on the undie.

Reluctantly Kim pulled it down.

It is just my mother, Kim told herself. It is just my mother.

But it wasn’t the undressing but what she knew would follow. As Kim stepped out of her undie, part of her wanted nothing more than to run screaming away … though running naked through the house seemed as much worthy of a toddler as to what she knew would come. Indeed, a second later, her mother grabbed her under the arms and placed her in the bathtub.

Kim at first recoiled from the water and as she sat, she put a bit of foam over her lower part as subtly and quickly as she could. Her mother noticed though and interpreting it as her daughter trying to play, she put a little plastic boat next to her, giving it a slight push in the little girl’s direction.

For a moment Kim was stunned by this sight and unable to react until the boat ever so slightly collided with her stomach. She gave it a push in the other direction and when she saw the boat sailing away, she found herself giggling despite of herself. This made her relax. The water was comfortingly warm and her body seemed to take in this warmth quicker than her adult one, soothing her and releasing much of the tension. This was undone quickly, when her mother began wetting her hair using a cup.

“Can do it!” Kim protested.

“When you start school,” Kim’s mother promised. “Just let me help my big girl a bit longer.”

Big girls don’t need their mommies to bath, Kim thought. They take showers.

Seeing the scowl in her daughter’s face, Kim’s mother handed her a little plastic figure of Ariel.

“I think you are just as comfortable here as on land,” she noticed, beginning to apply shampoo in the little girl’s hair. “Just like Ariel.”

Kim looked at the little plastic figure of the Little Mermaid. She still remembered it and believed fifteen years from now it was in one of the many boxes on the attic. Feeling its surface, watching its gay colors and seeing how the water closed over it when she submerged it, captured her attention so much, that she hardly noticed her mother cleaning and showering her hair.

“Time to stand up.”

Kim looked up at her mother surprised. Just for a moment she had been totally immersed in playing with the figure of Ariel. So much, that she had heard her once favorite song Under the Sea and had even imagined being there with the mermaid and her friends. By the smile on her mother’s face, it was all too obvious.

Feeling embarrassed by her behavior, Kim obeyed, hoping to be taken out of the bath. Instead, her mother took a washcloth, made it wet and began rubbing over Kim’s face.

“Mommy,” Kim whined, feeling suddenly very helpless.

“Oh, someone is tired.” Her mother commented.

Knowing there was no use in arguing with an adult, Kim held her mouth shut, as her mother proceeded to clean her chest and stomach, then her back, then the arms, then the legs and feet and then …

Kim held her hands over her most private part.

“Oh, this special little girls’ part needs cleaning, too,” her mother noticed.

Mustering all her willpower, Kim took her hands away and let her mother go over the special part, her cheeks growing red.

I must find a way to delete this from my memory, Kim thought.

Moments later she was finally lifted out of the bathtub and given a rub with a towel double her size. As her body was finally dry, her mother put her on the toilet and blow dried her hair. Not being allowed to do these things for herself, made her feel smaller by the minute. When had she once passed the threshold from doing things she was told to do doing things on her own?

As her mother finally set her down to stand on the rug, Kim breathed out deeply. She was relieved enough to just go along, as her mother put a yellow bathrobe over her, only being surprised when the adult put the hood over her head, causing two fluffy bunny ears falling in her face. Kim looked up at her mother who smiled at her.

Of course, it has to be this bathrobe, Kim thought. And she will wonder why I ended up loving anime.

“Time to brush your teeth,” her mother said.

Kim obliged, standing on the step-stool in front of the sink and being oddly happy to be allowed to do it on her own, even taking great care so her mother wouldn’t mind.

“Can I go play?” Kim asked after being done. “Just a bit.”

Her mother seemed to think about it, laying a finger on her mouth, then she nodded.

“Only a bit,” she said. “I will clean up and make a call to Judy. Then it is nite-time.”

As quick as her little legs could carry her, Kim raced back to her room. In there she listened until she could hear her mother’s heavier steps going back to her room to phone her friend. Feeling like a rock the weight of a ton was lifted from her, Kim rushed to the pile of stuff toys. She resembled them pretty much in her bunny-bathrobe, but it didn’t matter to her, as she grabbed for the device deep in the pile. Triumphantly she pulled it out. Finally, after a day which had seemed longer than any she could remember, she would go back. She would just have to use the device and … To her horror Kim found she had no idea how to do it.

Oh, she knew she had to push the red button, but there were the rolls to adjust the exact date and she found herself unable to read the numbers on them. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see them, but their meaning was missing to her. There were signs with a circle and a line which looked like switched. Were they close in size? The same? Which set of numbers meant day, which month and which year? Kim couldn’t say and realized she couldn’t even say since when she couldn’t say. This morning at the breakfast-table she had been able to read the clock, but after that she couldn’t recall she had even tried!

Body shapes spirit and spirit the body, Kim heard Kelly of all people say in her mind.

Feeling a sudden coldness, Kim raced to the little bookshelf, taking The Very Hungry Caterpillar. She knew the title, but only recognized the book by its front. The title written in letters … Kim couldn’t identify it with the words in her mind no matter what. It was the same for its content as she turned the pages. She knew the signs hid words in them, so many big words, but as she led her little hands over them, they could very much have been just another sort of pictures. Smaller and not as interesting as the actual ones.

The coldness spread up her spine, but she wasn’t willing to give up yet. Walking to her little chair, she grabbed a red pencil and a sheet of paper. If she could start to write a word – just a little word – maybe the dam would be broken? What was the easiest thing she could think of? Her name! Of course, it was simple. She had even thought it too simple once in school, having wished for a fancier one.

Kim, she willed herself, laying the tip of the red pencil on the white paper. I think I can. I think I can.

Finally, she had managed to create a set of scribbles, but how could she know if it was her name?

Mommy would know, Kim thought. Oh shit!

Eavesdropping, Kim no longer heard the sound of someone on phone. Quickly she went to the device lying on the floor, grabbed it and hid in the pile again, just as she began to hear footsteps approaching her nursery. The sheet of paper in the hand, still in her bathrobe, Kim looked up as her mother entered.

“Bedtime,” she declared. “Ready or not.”

“Mummy, look what I did to you!” Kim said, presenting her the paper.

The adult took it and smiled, giving her daughter a glimmer of hope.

“My,” her mother said. “That look skill full. Are these your dance steps?”

Kim felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.

“Yes,” she lied, knowing nothing would come from the truth. “For you.”

“Thank you,” her mother replied, “but now it's time for bed. Daycare awaits tomorrow.”

As she began to dress herself with the clothes her mother laid on the bed, Kim knew how true this was. Tomorrow and the day after and the day after. Until she got into elementary school and learned the numbers and letter she needed. A year from now as far as she could remember. It wasn’t all bad, for example she would see Cathy again and the fun she would have without homework would be nice, but it also meant a year of not deciding what to do, to eat or to wear … and bathing done by mommy. Kim suddenly realized she had just changed clothes in front of her mommy without a care in the world. It wasn't just her words that were slipping away. Even though she still had all of her memories, she couldn't help but see the world through an increasingly childish point of view.

The five years old shuddered and thought about her other options. Restarting the day? Where would this lead to? Turning the rolls by chance? What if she got even younger? What if she even ended back in her mommy’s womb? Waiting was risky, too, though. What if mommy found the device in the meanwhile?

Mommy would know!, Kim realized.

“Hop in!” Her mother told her, having closed the curtain.

Kim did, but slowly to give her enough time to think. As her mother tucked the My Little Pony-sheet over her chest, she had a plan figured out, thanking her mind for having at last kept its sharpness.

“Mommy?”

“Yes darling?”

“Could you write down the year when I go to c …” Kim stopped herself before she could say college, as it seemed to her a little too big for a preschooler’s vocabulary. “Big school?”

“Why that?” Her mother asked on a surprised tone.

“I want to be a ballerina just like Miss Houser,” Kim lied. “I want to show her that I will be in her class when big.”

“After today, she sees you for a big ballerina for sure!” Her mother explained with a smile, handing her Mr. Fluff. “Sleeping time.”

“Mommy please!” Kim said, feeling on the edge of panic.

Her mother looked down on her a moment, then she sighed with a smile, the way parents long accustomed to their kids being quirky at the most random times do.

“Okay, if it is what my little ballerina needs to sleep.”

She went over to Kim’s little table, wrote something on a sheet of paper and handed it to her daughter still lying in the bed.

“You can give this to Mrs. Houser.” The adult explained. “You will be in big school then.”

“Thank you, mommy!” Kim said honestly.

“Good night,” her mother replied, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Kim said and closed her eyes, just as her mother switched off the light.

She wanted to count the seconds, but found she no longer could. Instead, she pressed Mr. Fluff with each finger separately until she opened her eyes again. Her mother was gone. She could hear faint echoes of feet going down the steps.

Now or never, Kim thought, fighting the soft chains of sleep threatening to pull her into dreamland.

She slid out of her bed, pulled the device out of the pile of plushs and climbed back on her bed again. Under the light of the little Mickey-Mouse nightlight next to her, Kim turned the rolls, until the little bits on the biggest of the signs were the same as those her mommy had written down.

Saying a silent prayer, she pushed the button with both thumbs.

The world became total darkness.

 

To be continued …

 

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