6 and 10
The skies are clear and cloudless, but the sun isn't shining enough to hurt the eyes. The breeze is cool, the birds are happily chirping. It is a perfect day. Children are the embodiment of endless vigor, taking advantage of every chance they could get to get up and be active. The children around the block, all seven of them, gathered into the woods to play games amongst each other, and it's indeed a sight to see. Children were shouting, singing, and dancing, occasionally picking a fight here and there yet manages to resolve everything on their own. At one point, the kids decided to play "tag, you're it", and that is where our story begins.
"Ow!" little Beatrice cried out.
The six-year-old tripped on a vine that was carelessly blocking her way, making her little frail body fall on the ground full of rocks, mud, and dried leaves. She curled herself up in a fetal position as she began bawling her eyes out. Tears streamed on her round, rosy cheeks, big brown eyes filling with shame and humiliation, to which the young girl can only express through crying. The pain had subsided some time ago, but her little mind is more worried about what Aunt Linda will say regarding her now muddy Barbie T-shirt she had gotten her last Christmas.
"What're we gon' do?" Sasha asks the others as they looked on to their crying playmate, like the voice of reason he always is.
The others shrugged, and one by one left the injured girl in the woods. Sasha ultimately followed the common consensus, despite giving the girl a pitying and doubtful look. Seeing her friend turn away made Beatrice cry even harder, exaggerating her wails of despair. It had gotten a bit sunnier now, and the rays are starting to burn through Beatrice’s skin. Everyone had gone about their day, Except that one blonde and eccentric ten-year-old with a heart of gold, and blue electric eyes that sees the need to help the ones in vain every time. That little girl, who is four years older than our Trixie, is sweet, sweet, Yekaterina, or as her parents call her, Katya. She walked towards Beatrice slowly. Being a lot taller than the other blond, she was able to lift Beatrice to a bench carefully.
"Please stop crying." She whispers softly, eyes widening in what was supposed to be quiet reassurance.
Katya brushed some of the mud off of Beatrice, wiping the other girl’s tears with her sticky fingers. She pushed Beatrice’s blond curls behind her ears then rubbed her back lightly. Beatrice whined, pointing at her now swollen ankle. At a young age, Katya knew not to meddle with things that she does not understand very well, in fear of a bad judgment call (She had learned that when she painted her rotting tooth with White-out and her mother reprimanded her for it.) She shook her head, her fringe moving against her forehead.
“I can’t touch it. I don’t wanna make it worse.” She explained.
When that didn't work, her young mind is at a loss. What is supposed to be done to stop a crying child? In a burst of childhood innocence and the lack of knowledge about the society’s standards, Katya is willing to go the extra mile to help Beatrice. Looking around to make sure that no one's looking, the blue-eyed child opted to try something she'd seen on TV the other day.
Katya put her little hands on either side of Beatrice's face. She squeezed her eyes close then leaned in with puckered lips and kissed the crying girl on the lips. For a few moments, they remained in that position. Beatrice didn't resist. They still tried to comprehend what they didn't understand. The tingling feeling in their little hearts, the fluttering in their tummies, and generally just the feeling of their innocent lips pressed together. But they aren't as secretive as they thought they are.
"Yekaterina! Beatrice Michelle! What are you doing?! "Aunt Linda screams at the top of her lungs. The girls looked at each other, clearly horrified. It is the day that they will unconsciously realize how complex the human heart is, beating for the right person unknowingly.
Aunt Linda drove immediately to the hospital, asking Katya if she was hurt too. Sasha apparently alerted the woman, who thankfully believed the young boy. Katya pouted slightly. The older girl has always had an irrational fear of the middle-aged woman. Miss Linda refused to call her anything but Yekaterina, and only ever says it verbally with distaste, when Katya sits with her legs open at Sunday school, when she refuses to wear bows in her hair, when she picks fights with the boys in the neighborhood, but today, Katya knew that the way she enunciated her full first name meant that she is going to be in trouble, and it terrified her to no end.
Out of the goodness of her heart, Katya didn’t let that stop her from wrapping her arms around Beatrice throughout the trip, even holding her hand tightly when the injured child was wheeled into the emergency room, rubbing her back through hiccups and broken sobs. Katya felt like a big girl, answering the doctor’s questions, and felt even prouder when the doctor commended her fast and critical thinking.
It turns out that Beatrice had twisted and fractured her ankle and required a cast and an ankle boot for a couple of weeks. While Beatrice was taken for the last check before being sent home, Katya sat in the waiting room beside her aunt, who she couldn't even look in the eyes, until the old, strict, uptight woman broke the silence.
"Yekaterina, do you want me to drive you home?" She asks softly as not to scare the terrified child even more.
"I'm...sorry, Miss Linda." The child says, her voice trembling. Even the matriarch felt guilt inside her for making Katya feel bad.
"No, I'm not mad at you. I appreciate that you helped Beatrice but about that... I really need to talk to your parents. What you did is not...okay. It's not normal for little girls to kiss." She says. Katya's little heart sank deeper. Now that her parents are involved, she is probably in a lot of trouble.
Little Katya can barely hear a single word from Miss Linda and her parents' conversation, but judging from their facial expressions, she knew that they are disagreeing about something. The long talk ended with Miss Linda shaking her parents' hands. They led her to the front door, passing Katya who was sitting in the living room. Her parents looked at each other before walking towards her carefully.
When her parents came and sat beside her, big tears dripped on her cheeks. "Mamma, I'm sorry. Am I in trouble?" Katya sobs.
Katina and Daniel looked at their daughter, then at each other. Their hearts broke, seeing their only child cry just because of a right-wing bigot's opinion. Daniel kneeled down in front of his daughter. "Don't cry, honey. You're not in trouble." He says softly.
"Then...why...were...you...talking...to...Miss Linda?" Katya says in between sobs. At that point, Katina picked the little girl up and put her in her lap.
“Baby, I’m not sure if you can understand this completely right now, but Miss Linda, she…doesn’t know that girls and boys can kiss just like a girl and a boy can kiss. There is nothing wrong with kissing people you love.” She explains carefully, playing with Katya’s hair.
"But you should not just do it without asking first. It’s not okay. You are far too young to be kissing anyone." Daniel says.
Katya looked confused. "But Miss Linda said...it’s not right? What if I don’t really like kissing boys?" She asks. Katina and Daniel smiled knowingly. "It's okay, at least for us. We love you, Katya. When you grow up, you will understand this more."
"You mean, it's only bad because, we're too young?" She asks, she had already stopped crying.
"Yes, yes. Go take a nap. Later, we'll take you to visit Beatrice." Her mother smiles warmly.
Katya squeals and jumps up and down in excitement, running to her room right under the covers, excited to see her friend again. As she lay down, she felt something really funny inside her while she thought of the injured blonde girl. It’s something she can't explain, like the feeling she gets when her mommy buys her a Popsicle stick.
The little girl fell asleep with a smile on her face, Beatrice’s round brown eyes the last thing on her mind. Beatrice and Katya were regular playmates before, frequently skipping home together after a whole afternoon of playing in the woods with the other kids, as they only lived a block away from each other. However, after that very day, an extraordinary friendship blossomed between the girls rapidly. Days were spent in, watching TV, painting, telling each other stories, braiding each other’s hair, and anything that can be conceived with the other girl’s limited mobility. Katya had never been happier before. Getting to spend the day making Beatrice laugh quickly became her favorite activity.
Of course, Aunt Linda watched them intently every time Katya came over. She would never peel her gaze away from the girls, even yelling at Beatrice if she as much as laughs out loud with a wide open mouth. She always gave both of them “scary” looks, special when Katya reaches over to hug Beatrice, or if that said hug was a little too long for her liking when the kids are saying goodbye. Katya tried to ignore her, tried to ignore the hollow feeling inside her whenever she catches the uptight woman’s gaze.
Weeks flew by, until Beatrice was able to walk again, and an excitable Katya knew just how she wanted to celebrate her now-best friend’s recovery.
"Please, Aunt Linda!" The little blond begged her aunt. Linda sighed, her gaze shifting towards the Zamolodchikovas . "Let the kid live, Linda. It'll only be for a day." Daniel says quietly as he smiled and winked at Trixie, making her giggle. “Daniel, I told you, you don’t have to do this for her. We can just let the girls sit with snacks and a movie until bedtime. We don’t really have to-“
Katina cut her off gently. “We think it’s necessary. Linda, you and Beatrice have been cooped up inside the house for weeks, and I’ve never actually seen you go to any of the barbecue parties around here. The little girl deserves it, you deserve it. Please, let us celebrate her recovery with you.”
Linda locked eyes with Beatrice, studying the little girl’s expression. She smiled shyly, looking over at her aunt to show hopeful and begging eyes. The old woman sighed and finally gave up. "Okay, okay. I guess we’re having a barbecue party then." She says quickly then turned towards Katya's father.
"It will be fun." Daniel reassured her with a firm nod. “Can I help prepare with the cooking?" Beatrice almost whispers quietly, looking at her feet.
Katina looked at Linda for approval. “Just...don't let her play around too much. If she makes any mistakes, don’t be afraid to reprimand her! Don't-"
Daniel raised a finger to stop her from talking. "Linda, like I told you, let the kid live. She won't always be confined in that house. Eventually, she'll have to learn to fend for herself." The man explains. Linda looked down, not knowing what to say. It’s a thought that she doesn’t want to think about most of the time.
"Now, be careful, Beatrice. You will mind Mr. and Mrs. Zamolodchikova very well, okay?" Linda ran her fingers through her messy honey-blonde hair. "Yes, ma'am. Bye!"
Katya carefully took Beatrice’s hand and carefully guided her towards the steps up the front door. "Linda’s heart fluttered at the sight, more than she cared to admit.
"This is exciting! We're gonna sit in front of a bonfire, and tell ghost stories like those big boys do." Katya grins. She knew that Beatrice has never experienced a bonfire, being confined inside her guardian's house most of the time, reading the Bible, or improving her reading skills. Katya put her arm around her much smaller friend.