TITLE: Ginny - Lunch
AUTHOR: Val Amant
DATE: April 02, 2017
The lunch bell rang. I grabbed my brown bag lunch and made for the home ec classroom where the kids who stayed at the school for lunch went since there was no cafeteria in the school. I grabbed a pint of white milk and hightailed for the basement floor. I ran into the handicap’s classroom.
She was sitting at a big table facing the huge windows, alone, watching the birds and squirrels play in the huge Oak tree outside of the wall of windows. The lights were turned off creating a mystical magical background, she lighted by the sunlight coming through the windows like an angel.
I pulled a chair up close to her left side and sat down. I looked at her and she smiled, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I pulled my ham and cheese with fresh lettuce and tomato sandwich out of the bag and unwrapped it, placing it down onto my napkin. It was cut into two halves.
I saw her look at it.
I reached over picking up one of the halves and put it onto her napkin that she neatly spread in front of her.
She grinned, reached over for her second half of peanut butter and jelly and put it onto my napkin. We smiled at each other, chewing our shared sandwiches.
I reached in my bag and pulled out a Three Musketeers. I broke it in half and handed her the bigger piece. She took it, her hand touching mine, making my entire body shiver with joy and excitement. We chewed on our candy bars and giggled, letting our eyes do the talking for us.
The five minute warning bell rang as I finished my milk and packed up my brown paper bag. I got up and put my hand on her arm. She looked up getting goosebumps from my touch and grinned ear to ear.
“My name is Ginny,” she said as she rolled her wheelchair facing me.
“I’m Al,” I waved and smiled, running backwards.
I ran out the door to class.
Since, we had lunch together every school day until summer when school let out for summer break. I never saw her again.
Five years later, in seventh grade, we as a class went to the new art class that was located in the basement. It was held in the room that used to be the handicap’s classroom. The big Oak tree was now gone, making room for parking.
The handicapped children left Woodrow Wilson four years ago.
I stepped up to the wall of windows, my eyes seeing desolation, my mind seeing the birds and squirrels play in the big Oak tree that Ginny and I loved to watch together. I looked to my right.
She was no longer here, with me, by my side. A tear rolled down my cheek. I dearly missed my Ginny in her wheelchair.
Come Dance with Me!
A love story about Ginny and Al