• Preamble

    It was mid-February, but it felt like May. The snow was already beginning to melt in some places, and trees began to bloom with new life. The sky was a deep blue scattered with fluffy white clouds – something we hadn’t seen since October.

    As it was still too cold to begin planting season, there wasn’t much to do. My little sister Gabriella and I played ball outside. She would toss me a small rubber ball and I would see how far I could hit it with a sturdy branch we found. Every time the ball sailed over the house, Gabriella would gape and start clapping enthusiastically.

    These were my favorite days. There was only time for leisure and occasional studies. We had the ultimate freedom to do whatever we wished, as long as we were home for dinner and supper. Of course, there was always chores, but those were minimal. There was no snow to be shoveled, no dead weeds to be raked, no crops to harvest. My mother was the only one who worked during the day, but she enjoyed it and the sounds of children’s laughter outside was like angels’ music to her ears.

    During the day, my best friend Travis would walk to the frozen skating pond with me and Gabriella, and we’d throw stones and sticks at the ice to try and crack it. Whoever made the biggest crack won and they’d receive pieces of sugar bread that we would sneak from our houses. Travis almost always won because he always knew where the weakest spots in the ice were, somehow.

    February also brought Valentine’s Day, a favorite among the older boys. Each year we’d pull pranks on the girls we liked. When and if they caught any of us, we would immediately blame the others. Travis was plotting some great prank on Margaret Nickel, but he wouldn’t tell any of us because he wanted it to surprise everyone. Unfortunately, Travis wasn’t the brightest, and he was almost always caught.

    The other boys would keep badgering me about who I was planning to prank this year, but I didn’t know myself. The one girl I really liked lived in New York. New York sounded so foreign and mystical to us country folk.

    “C’mon, Noah, who’s it gunna be?” Travis asked, punching my shoulder. Travis was a good-looking guy. He was tall and muscular and had dark unruly hair and dark brown eyes. He was the most outspoken person in our group of friends and probably the most well-known, as well.

    “I’m not doin’ it this year, Trav”, I said, pushing him away.

    “Hey, what about Laura Grey? I mean, she’s no Nicole Lemmon, but you gotta admit, that girl’s pretty cute”, said Henry Johnson, ignoring me.

    “Leave ‘im alone, Johnson. He said he ain’t doin’ it this year. He’s already gotta girl”, Travis said, shoving Henry.

    “Yeah, one all the way across the country. C’mon, Westfield, Nicole ain’t coming back”, Joe Leroy backed Henry up. I knew Nicole wasn’t coming back.

    “Yeah, Noah, who’s it gunna be?” John Benson asked again.

    “I don’t know. All you guys got the good ones. Who’s there left?” I asked feebly.

    “There’s Rosie Bryson, Denise Williams, Becky Addams”, Travis started counting them out on his fingers.

    “Lucy Jameson, Agnes Martin”, Henry added.

    “Don’t forget Elizabeth Wayne”, Travis said. Elizabeth Wayne was the most popular girl in town. Not one of us had the guts to ask her on a date or anything. I knew all of these guys would rather be with Elizabeth than any of their choices. I didn’t blame them. Elizabeth had rich blond hair and caramel brown eyes. She looked like someone who belonged in New York, right beside my Nicole. Not down here in this racket.

    “Elizabeth Wayne? Why’d she like Noah Westfield for?” Joe asked in disbelief.

    “She don’t gotta like ‘im for ‘im to prank her, idiot!” Travis exclaimed.

    “Who’s it gunna be?” they all echoed.

    “I think I’m gunna go with Margaret Nickel”, I responded.

    “Ay, that’s Travis’s girl”, they all said disapprovingly.

    “Shut up, y’all! I can share!” Travis said. “C’mon, Noah, let’s go”.

    And thus began the great pranking of Margaret Nickel.

    While all of this was going on, there was the coming anticipation for the spring performance. Every year, the school age children put on a performance on various subjects. It was always a small cast, and there was always a small audience. They usually did condensed versions of Shakespeare, but every once in a while there was something new and different. This year was another Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Gabriella had been cast as Queen Hippolyta and practiced nonstop. Every evening she would recite a small passage and was often found memorizing her lines with our mother on rainy days.

    Then in just three weeks was my seventeenth birthday. March 8th. I knew what I wanted. But I knew I could never have her.