Square Peg in a Game of Dominos - 1. The Pieces Never Fit

I’m a square peg in a game of dominos!

No matter what combination you use, every tile finds a match. Little white plastic rectangles arranged with coordinating black dots. Some people take longer than others for find their perfect match, but with so many options you’ll eventually find one. The only problem is, I’ve been playing the game with all the wrong pieces. I’m an ugly wooden peg in a world full of pretty plastic pieces. No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to fit in.

Everybody always tries to think back to their earliest childhood memories. We try to find that thing that defines who we are, looking for that first spark of recollection. I can distinctly remember mine.

We were 4 years old, Emily and me, as we sat on the floor flicking a button across the polished wood. All of our belonging stuffed into boxes and already loaded onto the moving truck.

“God damn it, Nadine,” Dad bellowed like he always did. “I don’t want to hear it anymore.” He was angry that Mom didn’t want to move over an hour away from her family and friends.

“But Don—“

“I’ve already put money down on that house. I’ll lose my ass if we try to back out of the deal and besides, I thought you wanted the kids settled before school started.” I was only 4, but I could hear the guilt lacing every word. He wanted her to do, what he wanted to do.

Mom was scared. He had walked out on her a few weeks after we were born. Of course he wasn’t gone long, but every few months he would disappear for a few days. Driving a truck took him away enough. Mom wanted him to at least come home after his shift was over.

They continued to shout, but it was the same words over and over. He wanted to go and she didn’t!

I heard a soft sob and looked up at Emily. Her lower lip trembled as they continued to fight. I didn’t want her to cry, but I didn’t know what to do, what to say. How could I make anything better? I couldn’t, so I just sat there and did nothing.

                                                             ***

The move happened. Mom’s protesting didn’t stop it. At least it went smoothly. Before long the boxes were unpacked and we quickly settled in.

Our new neighborhood was nice. The house was on a quiet dead-end street with a few other houses. A doctor lived right next door. Mom took that as a sign that it was a nice safe place to live and raise a family. Emily instantly became best friends with the only girl other girl in the neighborhood, Denise Miller, which left me all by myself.

I wasn’t really upset since they wanted to play dolls and school teacher and I wouldn’t be caught dead doing either, so I was happier to explore the neighborhood on my own.

Besides, Denise, there were a few other kids on our street, all boys, most of them older and much, much bigger boys. One afternoon, I rode my bike to the entrance where the boys hung out and I hid in the bushes, just kind of curious to see what they were doing.

The ringleaders were Denise’s older brothers, Tommy and Jimmy. When Tommy ordered the other boys to take off their shirts and Jimmy gave each kid a smack across their naked chest with a whiffle ball bat, I knew that I was better off alone.

                                                             ***

“What do you mean they missed the cutoff date?” Mom yelled at the school secretary.

The woman actually looked scared. She was a good foot taller and 50 pounds heavier than Mom, but her hands trembled as she handed our registration papers back to her. “I’m sorry, but their birthday falls after the cutoff--”

“3 days!”

“Again, I’m sorry Mrs. Parson, but your girls won’t be able to enroll for this year--”

“What am I supposed to do? Keep them home for another year? They are 5 years old NOW and they are ready for kindergarten.” Mom said.

“Rules are rules.” When the woman gave Emily and me a smug smile, I thought Mom was going to scratch her eyes out.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Emily looked sick. I giggled. Mom stormed out of the school office with us running behind her, trying to catch up.

Of course we didn’t sit home for another year. First Baptist School gladly accepted us. It was a small private school, but not one of those ‘cost an arm and a leg’ educational institutions. Dad made good money and if we were in school then Mom could also return to work.

                                                             ***

Ride my bike to the end of the street…turn around. Ride to the end…turn around. Again and again and again. Boring! The fall breeze was kind of chilly, but not enough to make me put on a jacket. Funny how people now a days would be horrified to see a young kid in the streets without supervision but heck, it was the 70’s and nobody even noticed me or so I though.

On my last pass, I tried to pop a wheelie on the dead-end turn. I barely got my wheel off the ground, but I did better the second time around.

I heard him giggling before I actually saw him. The first time I saw Randy Seller, I knew that I liked him. His reddish hair stuck out from his head like a halo. He looked like a puppy locked up in the backyard, staring at me over the fence.

“Do you want to come out and play?” I asked him over the chain-link fence. He shook his head as his sad blue eyes nervously darted from me then back towards his house. The Seller’s yard was perfectly manicured, but he was all alone. Randy’s only companion was a small sandbox and a old tire swing hanging from a big tree in the back.

“Well then, can I come in then?” I asked him, but my hand was already unlatching the gate to let myself in.

“NO!” He shouted at me. Panic flashed across his cute face. The slap of his hand across my fingers hurt. I wanted to play with him but that really hurt. I stuck my tongue out at him and rode my bike back home.

                                                             ***

From that first day, I decided that I was going to keep trying. I had too. The boys at the other end of the neighborhood scared me and I wouldn’t be caught dead playing with Emily and Denise. Right now they were dressing up the cat in baby clothes. Gosh, I really hope one of them gets scratched, so I would at least get to see some blood.

Randy was an only child. His mom was super-duper over protective and never lets him leave the backyard. One day when he was in the sandbox, lost in his own world, I climbed the fence and let myself in.

“Wh-wh-what are you doing in here?” He stuttered. His eyes darted around, but nobody appeared and shooed me away.

“Hi,” I said cheerfully. “I’m Rosaly.”

When his mom never showed up, he relaxed a little.

“What are you playing?” I asked him while he lined up a row of little army men on the railing of his sandbox.

His eyes lit up and dimples big enough to bury your thumbs into plucked his cheeks. “Just watch.”

Randy lined them all up, pulled a slingshot from his back pocket, and loaded it with a marble. He fired and missed. “Crap!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! I want to try it!” I jumped up and down. He handed over the tiny weapon and another marble. The plastic man flew off with the first shot. “Did you see that?”

He had and he was not happy. Randy shoved me to the ground and growled, “Go home! I don’t play with girls!”

My proud eyes welled up with tears and before I could hold back the words, I blurted out, “But I’m not a girl--”

“Yes you are!” He shouted back. With the words still ringing in my ears, I ran back home.

                                                             ***

SLAM! The bathroom door shook the pictures frames hanging on the wall. Tears streamed down my freckled face. When I glanced into the mirror on the back of the door, I saw Emily! It wasn’t me. It was her face looking back at me…blonde hair…big green eyes…tons of freckles, the same as me, but not me.

Where am I? I pressed my nose against the mirror…I know I’m in there somewhere…why can’t I find you? It suddenly occurred to me, maybe I’m not even real. Who knows? I might just be Emily’s imaginary friend that she conjured up in her mind. No, it couldn’t be that because she never actually plays with me.

I closed my eyes and I would appear in my mind, but I disappear when they opened back up again. “You are not me!” I hissed at Emily’s reflection. Tearing my clothes off, I stared down at the small naked body in the mirror. Something was wrong…missing…different…yet I didn’t know what.

                                                             ***

Randy tried to ignore me, but when you’re trapped in the yard like a yippy dog, he was my captured audience. Nobody ever comes down to the end of this stupid dead-end street. I don’t think any of the other neighborhood kids even know he’s here.

I wore him down until one day; he stopped yelling at me to get out. We jumped in the leaves during fall. We built a snow man during winter and then chased the new butterflies that showed up at the first sign of spring. His backyard was his prison. I could leave, but I liked spending time with him.

“Come on Randy, just let me go in and use the bathroom.” I crossed my knees and hopped for emphasis.

“You’re not allowed!” He stood in front of the door with his arms out stretched.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!”

“No!”

“I’m going to pee right here in your mom’s flowerbed if you don’t let me use your bathroom.” He didn’t move until I started to pull my pants down.

“Oh my goodness, Rosaly, just hurry up!” When I crossed the threshold, he grabbed the back of my arm, “Don’t touch anything!”

The inside of their house was ice cold. It was more than spotless, it looked like a museum. Now, our house was clean, but Mom had kids running in and out all day long. I only saw Mrs. Seller occasionally come and go. I’d never even seen Randy inside.

Turning the corner, I made my way through the living room. Everything was new except for an old beat-up blue recliner chair. It looked out of place. Forgetting about the chair as quick as I saw it, I made a beeline for the bathroom.

Relieved and ready to go back outside, I darted to the door. 5 steps, 4 steps, almost there, suddenly I was snatched from behind. Before I could scream, a big hand clamped over my mouth as I felt my feet dangling off the floor.

The arms crushed me. My heart raced. Thank goodness I already peed or I would have urinated all over Mrs. Seller’s clean floor.

“What are you doing in here?” Mr. Seller growled against my ear. He squeezed my chest tighter as his fingers dug into my skin through the fabric of my shirt. Bruises were already forming.

I was scared. I was in trouble. My skin burned. Struggling to be set free was useless, he was triple my size.

“Go!” He dropped me.

I ran out of there and all the way home.

                                                                         ***

When Mrs. Seller called the next day, I thought I was in serious trouble. The hag didn’t say a word to Mom about me sneaking into their house. Instead, she invited us to a cook-out. This has to be a set-up, right? Great! Well, she must be planning on yelling at me in front of the whole neighborhood.

As it turned out, it was a freaking set up, but not by Mrs. Seller. Randy’s dad thought it was a good idea to invite us over. While she and Mom drank wine out back, he got burgers ready in the kitchen.

“Kids, come and help me.” He called out. Emily and Randy quickly ran inside to help. I hung back until Mom shooed me away. Little did I know, he was testing to see how easily I could be separated from the others? It must be a trick they teach in Pedophile School.

“Emily, why don’t you pour some chips in a bowl while Randy gets out the cheese and fixings from the fridge.” His cold eyes turned on me, hovering by the back door. “Rosaly is going to help me get the watermelon I left in the garage.”