Chapter 1: My Grief

My name back then, thirty years ago, was Sara Brandt. My childhood was not a very happy one. When I turned twelve I stopped growing at 4' 9" tall. I never entered puberty. Cursed with acne all over my face, crooked teeth, very poor eyesight which forced me to wear extremely thick glasses, coarse hair on my head made it feel like straw, flat chested, one leg that was an inch shorter than the other which caused me to limp slightly. The doctors could do nothing to change any of this. As a result, I was teased without mercy, harassed and scorned at school. This continued through my sophomore year at Huntington High School in the State of Kentucky just south of Cincinnati. I excelled in my studies and received A's on all report cards. Out of sheer boredom in my life, I turned to music to escape my miserable existence.

Although my parents could ill afford it they purchased an old piano at a garage sale. It was very difficult to get it into the house since it was a Baby Grand. It sat in the previous owner's basement for years needing tuning badly. I just had enough from my savings to pay for a man to tune it. His name was Mr. Reynolds. Once done, he played to it make sure that it was down to perfection. Mr. Reynolds was a piano teacher part time and offered to give me lessons for five dollars a week for an hour. He taught me the scales which I practiced every day after school for at least two hours. Many times four hours on weekends or until my parents asked me to stop. I was ten years old at that time. I also found a violin for next to nothing and practiced that downstairs in our basement. I became skilled in both. I also acquired a decent singing voice and sang for the school's choral group. The kids allowed me into their group but after rehearsals or performances no one wanted anything to do with me.

My only friend was the boy next door. Johnny Wilson. Johnny and me grew up together. We'd known each other since we were toddlers. We played all the time. Once when I hurt my hand falling on a rock, he kissed it to make feel better.

"Don't worry, Sara. When we grow up, I'll marry you," he promised as he kissed me on the lips. Instantly the pain left me. We were both four at the time. And our friendship continued to flourish.

As Johnny grew, he became a great athlete. Tops in Little League and Babe Ruth baseball. In Pee Wee football he excelled in everything and that carried over into the upper leagues before high school. Also Johnny starred in basketball. He practiced dribbling the ball, throwing passes at designated spots painted on the family garage, and shooting it through the hoop with remarkable accuracy. He was at it until Mrs. Wilson told him it was time for bed.

When we entered high school he was six foot tall and muscular. The coaches looked upon him as someone who comes into a small town high school every fifty to sixty years. A prized athlete! The girls were crazy about him from middle school on up. Even older beauties vied for his attention. It didn't matter if he was just fourteen, he was taller, handsomer and looked sexier than many of the senior jocks.

From my first day I was bombarded by most students, most of them females, with cruel words. The saying of 'sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me' is certainly a lie. Their taunting hurt me deeply. Even to sobbing tears. When Johnny was around, he scolded the girls for being so mean. The few boys he'd grab and slam them into a locker warning them if he ever heard them abusing me he'd personally make them wish they hadn't. But behind his back, those bitter words continued to pour down upon me. I couldn't take it at times and fell to my knees crying my eyes out. This only made it worse for me as this encouraged them to increase their cruel mockery of me. I was always happy for Fridays to come about so I could have Saturday and Sunday away from these evil people. I took this verbal belittlement for six years now. I was happy for the summer as school let out for almost three whole months. Besides, this summer I was flying out to Portland, Oregon to visit my Aunt Penny. She had a full Steinway piano in her living room. She promised me that I could practice to my heart's content. I was going to take my violin with me. I wanted to become an accomplished musician. I even composed a few tunes but never put any lyrics to them.

Aunt Penny had married at the age of nineteen to a man old enough to be her father. A year later, he died suddenly of a heart attack leaving her millions plus the business he founded. She sold that to a very large corporation for millions more. She met a man in his early thirties who swept her off her feet. Two years later he was diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer. Again leaving her a small fortune and loneliness once more. Aunt Penny vowed never to marry again. She didn't want to face another heartbreak. At her invitation she asked me to stay the summer with her which I agreed to eagerly. I couldn't wait to leave here.

My last night I walked through the gate of my back yard to the park in back of our house. I loved to sit by the large spring fed pond to watch the sunset and the fish coming to the top swishing a bit before diving back down into the deep dark waters. To hear the frogs croaking, the fireflies illuminating their tails and the crickets singing in the tall grass. I was wearing my usual attire. A short sleeved cotton blouse, plaid skirt, white anklet socks and my cheap tennis shoes. At fifteen not even a bump or any soreness in my chest.

I felt something land on my arm. Absentmindedly I took a hand to brush it away. Then I felt great pain. I looked down to see what was happening to me. This angry bug started stinging me over and over.

"Ow, ow, ow ... ouch ... ow, ow," I cried as the thing continued to attack me. I don't know how many times it jabbed its stinger into me but it hurt more than anything. Finally after venting its anger on me, it flew off across the water. I watched it in a rage only to see a pink thing flick it out of the air. It was a bullfrog. I felt vindicated about that happening. I looked at my wound and it was all red. The swelling my arm started to grow. A little of the pain was still there but it was the heat from those bites that was the worst. I got up to go home. I didn't want my parents to see this and cancel my trip to Aunt Penny's.

I managed to get into the house without notice. I raced up to my room, took off my blouse to inspect my arm. It was bright red and swollen almost twice as much as my other. I changed quickly into my long sleeved pajamas. I noticed Mom had already taken my two suitcases downstairs for my flight. I lay in bed reading a book on the Civil War when my parents walked in without knocking.

"Is our princess ready for her trip to see her aunt tomorrow?" Daddy asked.

"Yes I am," I replied, feeling anything but a princess.

"Well, it is going to be a wonderful time for you," Mom sat on the bed opposite of my sore arm. "Penny's such a dear heart." I didn't have to be told that. I met her before and she was always nice to everyone.

"Yes," I smiled. "I hope I have a lot of fun there."

"My sister will take good care of you," Daddy grinned.

"I think I'll have lots of fun there," I repeated, anxious to be in Oregon already.

"I hear that her house is only two hundred yards from a bluff then the walls slope down to a small beach then there's the Pacific Ocean," Daddy observed.

"I think you should get your rest now, honey," Mom smiled, leaning over to kiss me on my forehead.

"Good night," Daddy kissed me on the cheek.

"Good night, sleep tight," I smiled back.

The next morning the swelling went down on my arm but it was replaced by a large blister. I wore my best blouse which I saved for church on Sundays. The sleeves fell to my wrists and loose enough to hide the blister. It was silky and felt nice against my skin. I wore my black skirt, knee length socks and a pair of patent leather shoes. I wanted to impress Aunt Penny. My flight would originate in Cincinnati nonstop to Portland. Estimated time in the air, four hours and thirty minutes.

After a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, orange juice and tea with sugar; we set out for the airport. Daddy checked my suitcases at the curb and we went inside. Being the 1990's the security only x-rayed my purse. Mom gave me five hundred dollars in traveler's checks that I had countersigned at the bank a few days ago. We hugged and kissed each other when we were given the call to board the plane. Mom had tears in her eyes which caused me to cry a little too. Daddy gave me forty dollars in cash in case of an emergency. One last hug and kiss and I was down the ramp to the plane. Needless to say I was very excited and happy for the first time in years.

Once the plane was in the air, I felt my left arm again. I was sore but none the worse for wear. Suddenly I was very tired. I planned to look down at the land flowing beneath me but my eyelids drooped. Stuffing my glasses into my purse, I fell into a deep sound dreamless sleep not knowing that I looked like I was ten and the flight people were ordered to watch over me. The airlines didn't want to take the chance in losing me and have a major lawsuit on their hands.

A gentle hand awoke me. I opened my eyes to see a smiling face of a flight attendant. I put on my glasses to see that she was very pretty. "We're going to be landing in twenty minutes," she gently told me. Then she did the same to an old man sleeping to my right. We buckled our safety belts as I looked at the suburbs of Portland as the plane began its descent. I was still weary but excited too. After landing, I finally managed to make my way into the terminal to see the most beautiful lady there. Aunt Penny. She was tall, slim with nice breasts and curves, lovely face with blue eyes and long blonde hair flowing down her back. She was dressed in a satiny blouse, short skirt that came to about four inches above her knees, stockings and black high heels. Recognizing each other, we embraced. As she leaned over to hold me, I could smell her clean hair and wonderful perfume. I often dreamed of being beautiful like her, not knowing that inside she was still hurting from her recent loss of her second husband and the loneliness that came with it.

"Oh Sara, it's so nice to see you again," she beamed.

"Thank you," I wished for her loveliness to be mine. I felt envious.

"May I see your driver's license, please," one of the flight attendants asked. She had a small document in her hands and compared the name on her list to what Aunt Penny showed. "Thank you," she smiled then turned back to the plane again. I looked at her very puzzled until my aunt explained it was standard procedure that anyone under the age of sixteen be met by an adult who was a member of the family. I smiled and hugged her again before going to the lower concourse to retrieve my luggage.

Aunt Penny had several cars including a Rolls Royce but we drove back to her house on the Pacific shore in a two year old white Toyota Camry LE. It was a two hour trip so we stopped for cheeseburgers, fries and iced tea at a small cafe. She told me all that we were going to do this coming summer. Then she finally noticed my crooked teeth.

"Oh dear, Sara. Your teeth aren't straight. Didn't you have a dentist look at them?"

"Yes but braces are too expensive and Daddy's work doesn't have a dental plan with his health insurance. We can't afford them," I explained sadly.

"Well we'll get you those braces here, darling. I can afford it. Besides, all girls should have straight teeth, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," I agreed.

"Good honey," she gently took my left arm. When I flinched in pain, a worried look fell on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Oh some bug bit me last night by the pond." I tried to act as if it were no big deal.

Aunt Penny undid the pearl button on my wrist and rolled the material up to see this big blister. "Oh dear, that looks very painful, sweetie. Before we go to the house, we'll stop by the clinic to let the doctor look at it."

"It doesn't hurt ... much," I lied.

"We have to have it looked at," Aunt Penny insisted.

Two hours later we were in the town's clinic. Aunt Penny was given the royal treatment when we walked in. She donated a quarter of a million dollars to build this facility and gave another twenty-five thousand a year to help maintain a doctor with a competitive salary to keep him there. His name was Gregory Johnson. Young looking and very handsome. He flirted with my aunt before taking me back to the examination room. I felt shy to removed my blouse but at Aunt Penny's urging, I did. Dr. Johnson examined my wound carefully. He even got out a metal head band with a light and magnifying glass. Turning the room dark he took his time concentrating on my arm.