Shoes - a child's story
I like to walk around in my family’s shoes. In my mom’s high heels because then I know what I’ll look like when I’m tall. And my dad’s shoes so I know what I’ll look like when I’m the dad. Even sometimes my brother’s shoes so I can pretend to be him. Nothing ever happened. I mean, nothing ever changed.
Until one day.
Our neighbor is old Mrs. Smith. She’s mean. Her left leg drags like a monster. She never smiles. She is nice to cats but doesn’t like kids. Especially me. That one day I was talking about, I went out back and saw some slippers. I put them on.
I became like an angel on Mrs. Smith’s back. I saw her kinda young. She was smiling and hugging a man in a uniform. She was getting married. She was laughing and dancing. I saw her playing “ring around the rosey” with two little girls. I see her waving with her girls to her husband in the uniform. She is crying when she reads a letter. She is so sad. He was killed in the war. She is in a cemetery. There are three graves, two are little. Her car was hit by a man who was drinking beer. It killed both of her little girls and that’s why she limps. Her leg was crushed. She sits inside her house and watches movies of her daughters and husband. I never knew she had such bad stuff happen to her.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Miller, is always so happy. She laughs and makes other people laugh. She does nice things for people. I saw her sandals. I put them on.
Mrs. Miller is in high school. She is crying. Girls are laughing and pointing at her. She is very overweight. She runs into the bathroom and eats some potato chips, looks at her reflection and throws the chips across the room. She’s at home. Her dad pinches her stomach and calls her “fatty”. Her whole family is laughing at her. She is in her room. They will laugh with her from now on, she says to herself and not at her. She will be nice and do nice things for people and then people will like her. But inside she hates herself and doesn’t trust anyone. I didn’t know she was so sad.
My dad is never home. He is always talking about work because that’s what he likes most of all. He would rather be at work than with me.
I put on his work shoes.
Dad is at his desk. He has a picture of mom, my brother and me that he looks at all the time. He looks upset. He is sweating. A man comes in and throws papers at him, shouting about the numbers being wrong. He says that he checked them a thousand times; they have to be right. He is worried. He is thinking about mommy, my brother and me. He wants to be home. He wants to make sure that I can get a new bike for my birthday. I didn’t think he knew I wanted a new bike.
Mrs. Telsa helps my mom clean our house. She doesn’t talk to me very much, but that’s ok, she’s our maid. I don’t have to talk to her if I don’t want to. Her same old brown shoes are on our doorstep. I put them on.
She is walking up three wooden steps to a front porch. There is a couch and old toys on it. A woman comes out and greets her. Two little kids come out too. They are her grandchildren. Her daughter lives with her now since her husband lost his job and they lost their house. Mrs. Telsa’s husband works two jobs. Mrs. Telsa gets ready to go work at the grocery store, because she has three jobs. She has two sons, her daughter and two grandkids to feed. She is tired. But she hugs her kids and she loves her husband. She came here a long time ago to get away from her country where there were a lot of problems. Her dad and brother were both taken by policemen and no one ever saw them again. So she and her new husband paid a man who brought them here. For a long time she lived in shelters. Her husband got a car, and they lived in that until they had money to get this house. She is old. But she is proud of what she and her husband have given to their children. Her whole house is the size of my living room. I didn’t know she was so poor and that her life was so hard.
My brother makes straight A’s in school; he is on the football team, has a cheerleader girlfriend and is really popular. He has it so easy.
I find his high-tops in the bathroom.
He didn’t get a scholarship to pay for college like he thought he would. Even though he has been working since he was fourteen and saved all his money, he won’t be able to go to college because we can’t afford it. He walks around with his friends at school and is sad by all their talking about college. He is embarrassed that he can’t go. He envies his friends. He feels ashamed of his family. He wishes he was in someone else’s family, and then feels bad about wanting that. He will never be anything in life. He won’t get an education. He thinks that he will work at some crummy job for the rest of his life. He wishes he was me. He thinks I’m funny. He thinks that I always come out on top. He thinks mom and dad like me more. I always thought that about him.
My teacher is so mean. She won’t let us have any fun. She especially doesn’t like boys. She tries to make the girls happy and lets them do whatever they want. I wish I had a different teacher.
I see her shoes under her desk. I slip them on.
She is at the blackboard explaining something that’s hard but she thinks we are smart enough to understand. Every time she turns her back someone starts talking, when she turns back around all the girls are looking at her, and I have my head on my desk playing with a rubber band. “Is everyone listening and seeing what I am doing, these steps are really important.” I feel her frustration getting big inside of her as I see my head stay on the desk. She calls my name. When I look up I have a really bad look on my face like – “what now? What do you want?” She is in a meeting with the principal. He is saying that she is going to lose her job if we don’t learn all this stuff. We are outside a building. It’s a school. A kid in a wheelchair comes to her. It’s her son who was born with special needs. My teacher is paying a lot of money to keep her son there. I am at her house. She is putting dinner onto plates for her three kids. She only puts a little for herself, but everyone else has a lot. She says she isn’t hungry. I know she is.
My best friend lives in a huge house. He goes skiing and to really cool places on summer vacations. He always has the coolest video games; his house has a media room in it. He has a pool and his parents let him do whatever he wants. He is at my house and his shoes are by the front door. I pull them on.
I’m not sure how to tell you about what happened next because I had never felt it before. I was so sure that I was going to feel excited and happy about being so rich and having so much stuff. But that isn’t it at all. I was with my friend as he listened from the top of his stairs. His mom and dad were arguing. Screaming really horrible things at each other. My friend was so scared. More scared than I have ever been. Panicky scared. He was crying. They were throwing things and saying that they wished they had never met. His dad said that he would kill his mom if she tried to leave him. His mom said that she was going to ruin his business. He heard her scream and a loud slap. He ran down the stairs. His mom was on the floor. His dad was over her. He yelled at his dad to stop. He jumped on his back. His dad pulled him from his back by his arm and threw him into the wall screaming about how he wished he had never been born. My friend hit the wall and slid down. He woke up and he was alone in the kitchen. He was scared. He called for his parents. No one came. He got up but his whole body hurt. He slowly made his way through the huge house to his bedroom. Thoughts ran through his head like a frenzy of buzzing bees – where were his parents? Had they left him? Should he call the police? Again? They knew him from all the other calls but would they take him away and put him a stranger’s home or a shelter like his dad said? Why did his dad hate him? Why did they hate each other? Why did he have to be in this family?
I took off his shoes and ran to my room. My friend was sitting there looking through our yearbook. He smiled as I came in. He seemed so happy. So carefree. His smile was so warm. I went and sat next to him on the floor.
“You know, you’re my best friend. You can call me or come to my house any time you want.”
He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. “You aren’t going to kiss me or anything are you?”
I laughed and punched his arm, lightly, remembering that he might still be hurt. “In your dreams, pal.”
I like to walk around in my family’s shoes. In my mom’s high heels because then I know what I’ll look like when I’m tall. And my dad’s shoes so I know what I’ll look like when I’m the dad. Even sometimes my brother’s shoes so I can pretend to be him. Nothing ever happened. I mean, nothing ever changed.
Until one day.
Our neighbor is old Mrs. Smith. She’s mean. Her left leg drags like a monster. She never smiles. She is nice to cats but doesn’t like kids. Especially me. That one day I was talking about, I went out back and saw some slippers. I put them on.
I became like an angel on Mrs. Smith’s back. I saw her kinda young. She was smiling and hugging a man in a uniform. She was getting married. She was laughing and dancing. I saw her playing “ring around the rosey” with two little girls. I see her waving with her girls to her husband in the uniform. She is crying when she reads a letter. She is so sad. He was killed in the war. She is in a cemetery. There are three graves, two are little. Her car was hit by a man who was drinking beer. It killed both of her little girls and that’s why she limps. Her leg was crushed. She sits inside her house and watches movies of her daughters and husband. I never knew she had such bad stuff happen to her.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Miller, is always so happy. She laughs and makes other people laugh. She does nice things for people. I saw her sandals. I put them on.
Mrs. Miller is in high school. She is crying. Girls are laughing and pointing at her. She is very overweight. She runs into the bathroom and eats some potato chips, looks at her reflection and throws the chips across the room. She’s at home. Her dad pinches her stomach and calls her “fatty”. Her whole family is laughing at her. She is in her room. They will laugh with her from now on, she says to herself and not at her. She will be nice and do nice things for people and then people will like her. But inside she hates herself and doesn’t trust anyone. I didn’t know she was so sad.
My dad is never home. He is always talking about work because that’s what he likes most of all. He would rather be at work than with me.
I put on his work shoes.
Dad is at his desk. He has a picture of mom, my brother and me that he looks at all the time. He looks upset. He is sweating. A man comes in and throws papers at him, shouting about the numbers being wrong. He says that he checked them a thousand times; they have to be right. He is worried. He is thinking about mommy, my brother and me. He wants to be home. He wants to make sure that I can get a new bike for my birthday. I didn’t think he knew I wanted a new bike.
Mrs. Telsa helps my mom clean our house. She doesn’t talk to me very much, but that’s ok, she’s our maid. I don’t have to talk to her if I don’t want to. Her same old brown shoes are on our doorstep. I put them on.
She is walking up three wooden steps to a front porch. There is a couch and old toys on it. A woman comes out and greets her. Two little kids come out too. They are her grandchildren. Her daughter lives with her now since her husband lost his job and they lost their house. Mrs. Telsa’s husband works two jobs. Mrs. Telsa gets ready to go work at the grocery store, because she has three jobs. She has two sons, her daughter and two grandkids to feed. She is tired. But she hugs her kids and she loves her husband. She came here a long time ago to get away from her country where there were a lot of problems. Her dad and brother were both taken by policemen and no one ever saw them again. So she and her new husband paid a man who brought them here. For a long time she lived in shelters. Her husband got a car, and they lived in that until they had money to get this house. She is old. But she is proud of what she and her husband have given to their children. Her whole house is the size of my living room. I didn’t know she was so poor and that her life was so hard.
My brother makes straight A’s in school; he is on the football team, has a cheerleader girlfriend and is really popular. He has it so easy.
I find his high-tops in the bathroom.
He didn’t get a scholarship to pay for college like he thought he would. Even though he has been working since he was fourteen and saved all his money, he won’t be able to go to college because we can’t afford it. He walks around with his friends at school and is sad by all their talking about college. He is embarrassed that he can’t go. He envies his friends. He feels ashamed of his family. He wishes he was in someone else’s family, and then feels bad about wanting that. He will never be anything in life. He won’t get an education. He thinks that he will work at some crummy job for the rest of his life. He wishes he was me. He thinks I’m funny. He thinks that I always come out on top. He thinks mom and dad like me more. I always thought that about him.
My teacher is so mean. She won’t let us have any fun. She especially doesn’t like boys. She tries to make the girls happy and lets them do whatever they want. I wish I had a different teacher.
I see her shoes under her desk. I slip them on.
She is at the blackboard explaining something that’s hard but she thinks we are smart enough to understand. Every time she turns her back someone starts talking, when she turns back around all the girls are looking at her, and I have my head on my desk playing with a rubber band. “Is everyone listening and seeing what I am doing, these steps are really important.” I feel her frustration getting big inside of her as I see my head stay on the desk. She calls my name. When I look up I have a really bad look on my face like – “what now? What do you want?” She is in a meeting with the principal. He is saying that she is going to lose her job if we don’t learn all this stuff. We are outside a building. It’s a school. A kid in a wheelchair comes to her. It’s her son who was born with special needs. My teacher is paying a lot of money to keep her son there. I am at her house. She is putting dinner onto plates for her three kids. She only puts a little for herself, but everyone else has a lot. She says she isn’t hungry. I know she is.
My best friend lives in a huge house. He goes skiing and to really cool places on summer vacations. He always has the coolest video games; his house has a media room in it. He has a pool and his parents let him do whatever he wants. He is at my house and his shoes are by the front door. I pull them on.
I’m not sure how to tell you about what happened next because I had never felt it before. I was so sure that I was going to feel excited and happy about being so rich and having so much stuff. But that isn’t it at all. I was with my friend as he listened from the top of his stairs. His mom and dad were arguing. Screaming really horrible things at each other. My friend was so scared. More scared than I have ever been. Panicky scared. He was crying. They were throwing things and saying that they wished they had never met. His dad said that he would kill his mom if she tried to leave him. His mom said that she was going to ruin his business. He heard her scream and a loud slap. He ran down the stairs. His mom was on the floor. His dad was over her. He yelled at his dad to stop. He jumped on his back. His dad pulled him from his back by his arm and threw him into the wall screaming about how he wished he had never been born. My friend hit the wall and slid down. He woke up and he was alone in the kitchen. He was scared. He called for his parents. No one came. He got up but his whole body hurt. He slowly made his way through the huge house to his bedroom. Thoughts ran through his head like a frenzy of buzzing bees – where were his parents? Had they left him? Should he call the police? Again? They knew him from all the other calls but would they take him away and put him a stranger’s home or a shelter like his dad said? Why did his dad hate him? Why did they hate each other? Why did he have to be in this family?
I took off his shoes and ran to my room. My friend was sitting there looking through our yearbook. He smiled as I came in. He seemed so happy. So carefree. His smile was so warm. I went and sat next to him on the floor.
“You know, you’re my best friend. You can call me or come to my house any time you want.”
He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. “You aren’t going to kiss me or anything are you?”
I laughed and punched his arm, lightly, remembering that he might still be hurt. “In your dreams, pal.”
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