Playing Hooky

Playing Hooky

by

Chloé Sehr

It’s time to get up.

What time is it?

9:00.

I’m late–

Don’t worry. You don’t have to go to school today.

Why not?

Girl Day!

But today I’m supposed to–

Put on your robe and slippers. I’m making pancakes and bacon.

***

Why didn’t Nate stay home?

Because it’s Girl Day!

Do you have Boy Day with him? I don’t remember.

Every day is boy day.

What?

Never mind.

***

Don’t put it all in at once. It’ll be too hard to stir.

When do we put the chips in?

After the flour. We sprinkle them in a little at a time, then stir, then sprinkle.

I can do it. Let me do it.

Okay. Good. Put some elbow grease into it.

Why is it Girl Day today?

I thought you’d want to play hooky for once, make cookies with me.

I know, but–

Careful, now. The bowl isn’t that big. Everything is too near the edge.

It’s just that–

The dough has to sit for a little while in the fridge. Wanna watch Rudolph?

Okay. 

***

Put the parchment on. Then you don’t have to scrape the pan.

Why are we putting salt on the top when it’s a cookie?

The salt makes the sweet better.

Why?

Because you never want only one thing. When you only have one thing, you can’t taste anything else.

Like a lemon?

Yes. Like a lemon.

Mom?

Yes?

What will he do when he comes and I’m not there?

Don’t worry about that. You let me worry about that. Besides, we have hours until then. We have cookies to bake and then cookies to eat. Let’s cross that bridge when we get there. 

***

Can I have some milk?

Sure. 

These are so good.

My compliments to the chef.

Mom?

Yes?

Will he come to get me here?

Eat your cookie.

I don’t want to leave you–

–honey–

–but I want to go.

***

There’s somebody at the door.

Don’t answer that.

Why not?

We don’t know who it is. You know what I’ve told you about strangers. Just come with me.

Where are we going? 

It’s a game. We’re going to hide.

Why?

Because it’s fun. Hiding is fun! And when you hide, you can see them, but they can’t see you. Then you get to decide what happens next. Let’s go to the animal cave. We can pretend like we’re in the E.T. movie.

***

It’s quiet in here.

The animals are sleeping.

Mom?

Yes? 

Where’s Mr. Machine?

He’s in my closet.

Why can’t I play with him?

He scares your brother.

I don’t get it. It’s just a toy. 

Not to Nate. It’s too much for him.

He’s always scared.

They all are. That’s why we hide things from them.

Like what?

Anything they will take away from you.

Nate can’t take anything away from me. I’m bigger than he is!

You won’t be for long. He’ll get bigger, so you have to be smarter. 

I am smarter!

And it helps if you’re quicker, too.

How long do we have to stay in here?

Not much longer.

Tell me a story?

Okay. 

***

Once upon a time, there was a young girl named Pearl who lived with her mother in a peaceful forest village. She was a clever, creative girl who loved to write and tell stories. Even at her young age, her imagination was extraordinary. There seemed to be no limit to the worlds she could create. She was poised to be the next Village Raconteur.

She had her lessons in the morning with the other girls at the schoolhouse and then went home to do her chores in the house or garden. In the summer, she went berry-picking or wood-gathering after her lessons. One year, the spring had been quite dry, so the berries were sparse and frequently very bitter. Pearl hated berry-picking, because she’d rather be home writing stories or plays to perform with her friends. And lately, the thick, tough vines and thorns were so bad that she dreaded doing it every day. She didn’t want to disappoint her mother, though, so she went to her usual spot, and as she wandered around trying to find the best berries she could, she saw that there was a path she hadn’t seen before, illuminated by some light through the trees. 

She walked down the path, past the thick, winding, mostly barren berry vines. She arrived in a clearing where there was a small person holding a small red object and standing in front of a huge wooden gate with double doors. On either side of the doors were walls five times Pearl’s height and covered in berry vines. The person stood there, watching her. Pearl had never seen such a person. Different from her, but she couldn’t tell exactly why.

Are you a girl? The person asked. 

Yes, she said. What are you?

I’m a boy.

Pearl had heard of boys, but had always thought that they were imaginary creatures, like monsters under the bed.

Are you looking for berries?

Yes. there aren’t very many, and the ones I find are bitter.

I have some. They’re inside. The sweetest, most delicious berries you’ve ever tasted. So many that you’ll never have to go berry picking again.

The boy pointed to the gate. 

If you want them, you just have to do one thing.

What?

All you have to do is put on this hat. Then I’ll let you in and you can have all the berries you want.

The boy handed her the red object, which was a hat. 

Pearl held the hat carefully. It seemed to be her size and it was actually quite lovely.

Put it on. It will protect you.

From what?

Everything you don’t need.

What harm could there be in a hat? Pearl put on the hat. The boy opened the gate and let her in. she walked into what looked like another world. There were vines and bushes and trees bursting with fruit. She gasped at the beauty before her.

What do you think?

Pearl opened her mouth to describe what she saw. 

Pretty.

The boy nodded. 

Anything else? 

Pearl tried, but not a single idea or word came to her.

Good. It's working. Now that all that nonsense in your head is gone, you can have all the fruit you want. And I can take care of everything else. 

The boy closed the gate, and no one from Pearl’s village ever saw her again.

***

Did you like the story?

It was scary. 

Why?

Because he took her. 

What else did he take?

What do you mean?

What’s the most important thing he took? The thing that she loved the most?

Her stories?

Yes. 

Are they here to take me away?

Yes.

I’m sorry.

It’s okay. Nate will be home soon. We’ll save some cookies for you for when you get back.

When am I coming back?