As a circus parade of cloud animals and clowns marched across the blue sky, Lacey Santini lounged on her back in the grass. She believed she was watching the earth spin on its axis. With her hand behind her head, and one foot propped up against her bent knee, Lacey waited for her best friend, Joey.
It was the summer of 1963, and Lacey was ten years old. She was growing up fast. Unlike most kids her age, Lacey realized her childhood was the best time of her life.
She and Joey had been friends ever since she could remember. He was better than either of her brothers, because he didn't treat her like a girl. Together, they scouted the woods in search of lost Indian tribes. They climbed the quarry walls looking for fossils. When they hiked the local trails, they were explorers. When they flew across the creek on a rope swing, they were Lewis and Clark. When they built their fort, they were Huck and Tom.
Lacey knew she was a tomboy, and she enjoyed it. Boys weren't expected to sit still and be quiet. Boys weren't reprimanded for not being polite all the time. When her grandmother told her she wasn't being lady-like, Lacey gagged.
She had gotten the nickname Lacey, because as a toddler she cried when her mother dressed her in frills. Her mother said the only way she'd get lace on this baby girl was to name her Lacey. Lacey was pleased with the nickname, because her real name was Isabella. When her dark, tousled hair reflection met her gaze in the mirror, it shouted, "Don't call me Isabella."
Sometimes, she and Joey discussed what the future might hold for them. Joey knew he was going to be an engineer. His father was an engineer. His three older brothers wanted to be engineers. Lacey didn't know exactly what an engineer did.
"Hey, Lacey."
Lacey looked up to see her friend's familiar, green-eyed, freckled face. "Hey, Joey," she responded. "What'cha wanna do today?"
"Let's head on over to the fort and make sure no poachers are around. Then we can hike along the creek, and see what lost treasure we can find," said Joey.
"Sounds good to me," Lacey said as she stood up and brushed the leaves and dirt off her. "Maybe, before we head home, we can stop at the five-and-ten and buy some bubble gum."
"You buying?" asked Joey.
Lacey pulled her hand out of her jeans' pocket and opened it. In her palm were two shiny quarters. "See what I got," said Lacey.
"Looks good to me," said Joey as they headed off.
Lacey wasn't in a hurry to grow up. She didn't want to get married. She didn't want to work some stupid job her whole life. She didn't want to have a bunch of kids like her mom had. She didn't want to be a teacher or a secretary, like everyone was always telling her. Still, she hadn't figured out what she did want to do.
Lacey's mom wanted her to go to college. "You're a smart girl, Lacey. You test well and get good grades. You should go to college," her mom said.
No one in Lacey's family had ever gone to college--no one on her father's side--no one on her mother's side. Lacey wanted to go to college. What she wanted to accomplish after college was still unknown.
Lacey's father was Italian. His parents emigrated from Italy after they got married. Lacey's father didn't discuss his parents often. She and her siblings had to pressure him to divulge any information about his past. By the time her dad was ten years old, both his parents had died. She knew he wanted his kids to be American. Her dad married an American girl, a blonde with green eyes. He worked hard and moved his family to the suburbs. Lacey was proud to be an American.
Lacey grew up right smack in the middle of five siblings. She had two brothers--one older, one younger. She had two sisters--one older, one younger. This placement affected every aspect of her life. Her older sister was twenty, and her older brother sixteen. So, to them Lacey was a baby. At the other end of the family, her younger sister was seven, and her brother was four. She was the big sister to them.
They were a noisy, boisterous crew. Except for those times, when at the dinner table, her mother declared, "If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all." Then they dined in silence.
Her older sister got married this past winter, then had a baby. Lacey knew she didn't want to end up likethat. Lacey despised her sister's husband. He told her she shouldn't go to college. "You'll be taking up a space needed by a man," he told her. Still, her sister's departure altered Lacey's status. Lacey felt more responsible for her younger siblings now.
Most of the time, she wished she was a boy. "Boys have the life," she told her mother. "They don't have to wash the dishes or set the table. They don't have to stay in the house on Saturdays to dust the woodwork."
Her mother replied, "Well, they have to take out the trash and mow the lawn, don't they?"
"Well, they're not hard jobs," said Lacey. "They get to go outside. Their jobs are more like fun." Lacey hated being in the house, unless she was in her room reading a book.
"Well," her mother tried again, "they have to go to war."
This comment always stumped Lacey. If she was a boy, she wasn't sure she could go to war. Her father had been in the Navy in World War II. Lacey didn't understand war.
"Joey," Lacey said, "do you ever think about going to war?"
Joey looked at her, and cocked his head to one side. Lacey knew this meant deep thought, at least as deep as Joey could go. "Well, sure I do, Lacey," he answered. "All boys think about going to war. They plan maneuvers and everything. My daddy was in World War II. My brother is registered now. Geez, Lacey, even you think about going to war. We play war games."
"I know, Joey, but I'm not so sure playing war games is the same as going to war."
"We're here," Joey said as he shimmied up the rope hanging down from the fort. "No poachers up here," he hollered down.
Lacey dropped the subject. Joey's simplicity kept her balanced. She could think more when she was home, alone in her room. "Look out below," she hollered as she climbed.
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