Chapter 1

It’s funny how things work out in life. The way things can all seem to come together, and in the end, life is good. For me and this story, however, well, let’s just say it’s so far out in the left field that I can safely tell it, and no one will ever believe a word. I do need to lay a little groundwork for the first page or so. I want you to have all the facts, some of the facts just need to be known going in. First off, my name is Tim Miller, even if I do change it later in life. That, of course, is part of my story and we will get to it later.

My story begins in kindergarten. It was the first day of school. Mom was so excited as she got me ready for school. The big yellow bus pulled up at the end of the driveway. It had a picture of a big bird in the window. Mom and the bus driver, Miss Wellington, helped me on. I thought the bus driver must be old because she had short hair. And it was blue like grandma’s, only a brighter blue. Mom had told me only old ladies wore their hair short and blue like grandma did. You can imagine my surprise later in life to realize she was probably only 20 or so.

I was also told that when it was time to go home, the bus would have a picture of a big bird in the window and something about the number 89-1, but all I was hearing was Big Bird. Well, mom was saying big bird and Miss Wellington was saying 89-1. I didn’t know any numbers yet, so I listened to my mom. Anyways, it turned out our seats were assigned. So of course, I got stuck next to a girl. Not just any girl mind you, but a cute, red-headed one.

She kind of reminded me of my pet mouse Pinkie. Her mouth was narrow, her nose pointed out. She was just plain cute, and I wanted to draw whiskers on her the first day I saw her. That and hold her hand. I mean, I was sitting next to her and all I could think of was holding her hand. Well, what can I say, I was only five years old! Well, being only five years old, I was completely lacking in any social skills. I also had problems with pronouncing some sounds and letters. So, when she said her name was Renée, I couldn’t say the ‘R’, so her name sounded funny when I said it. She seemed very nice and pretended to help me say it right. Finally, I gave up in frustration when the bus got to school. Besides, the bus driver keeps telling everyone to be quiet. It was noisy, as Renée and I had to yell to be heard.

Oh, I almost forgot about the stops on the way to school. You know, the bus would stop and a new kid or two would get on. Well, not so much the stops, but it was the last stretch of road in the morning. The sun was shining in through the old oak trees that lined the road. Each time the light flickered in Renée’s dark green eyes, I became lost in them, they seemed to twinkle in the light. Little did I realize how bad I had it for this girl at the time. It was so bad, that my mistake the next day would haunt me well into high school.

All too soon our first half-day of school was over. Thank God it was over. I ran out to the corner where the buses were waiting. Then I found the bus with a big bird in the window. Renée was already seated, and I joined her. She had a different teacher than I did, so she hadn’t been in my class. The ride home was too short because I hadn’t worked up my nerve to hold her hand before I had to get off. However, I was looking forward to the next day of school. It would be the only time till I was a senior that I looked forward to school.

Mom was waiting for me when I got off the bus. I had to tell her about my first day of school. Everything we did, and even why I had finger paint on the end of my nose. Well, I had painted a picture of Renée of course and told her so. Mom must have thought it was cute. She must have figured out I had a crush on the girl. Well, that’s what she called it later, anyway. Mom was a painter and I wanted to be one too. I also knew I wanted to paint Renée someday, but I wanted it to look like mom’s paintings, not like the finger painting we did at school.

My second bus ride the next day did not start off that well. Big Bird was gone. Mom was inside, and I didn’t know if it was the right bus. Miss Wellington still had blue hair and she told me to hurry up, she didn’t have all day. When I said there’s no big bird, I heard the older kids laughing at me. I saw Renée looking out the window at me, and I knew it was the right bus. So, I got on and found my seat. Now I had been thinking about her all night. Since everyone in our family had nicknames, I decided to give Renée one I could say. Since she reminded me of my pet mouse, I called her Mouse. I mean I gave her a very nice nickname. At least I thought so, anyway. She, however, didn’t see it that way. She crossed her arms on her chest, looked out the window, and didn’t talk to me for the next 3 years. I think she was even crying.

Yes, that’s right; we had the same driver and the same assigned seats for the next three years (Three years of hell). Every day I tried to be bright and cheerful. I got on the bus, found my seat, and said, “Hi Mouse”, with a big smile on my face, and every day I got the same icy cold stare back at me. If looks could kill, I died many times over the next three years.

Oh yes, my speech problems with letters disappeared halfway through kindergarten. But the cute little girl named Renée would always be my little Mouse. The other kids liked the name as well, so it stuck to her like glue. Mouse is what everyone called her from the third day of school on. I think that is what really got her mad at me the most. She thought I was making fun of her. I know the way the other kids said it, they were. I felt sorry for her, but no matter how much I tried to say I was sorry, she would just ignore me, when she didn’t break into tears, that is.

It was the start of 3rd grade when things changed. A new bus driver and the seat assignments no longer applied. That was OK with me. I wanted to sit in the back with my friends Danny and Ben. I wanted to take the bumps in the road that almost made our heads hit the ceiling. Mouse stayed in the same seat she always sat in. From now on, however, she sat next to a girl named Lucy. She and Lucy became best friends. Since Lucy was new to our school this year, she didn’t know about our history. When people said, “Hi Mouse”, Lucy would set them straight.

The two of them even conspired to give me a demeaning name. “Lonesome Boy” I do not know how they came up with it. But every day I got on the bus I said, “Hi Lucy, Hi Mouse”, as I passed, and they said, “Get lost, lonesome boy.” OK, I was shy for the most part. But lonesome? Hardly. I had lots of friends, and other than a few of the other girls, no one else called me a lonesome boy. I finally gave up and stopped talking to her at all. At least it worked until sixth grade.

Renée had gotten braces, and some of the other kids started to call her the ‘steel-jawed rat’. I think the first time I saw her crying over that nickname, I realized what I had done to her. I wanted so much to tell her I was sorry. But Lucy would never let me get near her to say anything. If I got close enough, my ears got abused by Lucy, and even Renée would join in at times. When the braces finally came off in 8th grade, she no longer looked like a mouse. She still had long red hair, but as her body started to change, so did her dress. I swear it looked like her mom was shopping for her at Goodwill. Baggy oversized clothing was all I ever saw her in. It was too bad; I thought she had gone overnight from cute to pretty. Well at least her face was a few grades up from pretty. If she would have just gotten rid of the glasses she had. I mean, come on, they looked like they were donated to the lion’s club back in the 50s.

The feud lasted into our senior year at high school. When I say feud, I mean it was a duel. Our entire experience in school pitted our brains against each other. The fight was always on for who got the best grade in the class. Sometimes she would even outdo me on a test or a paper. It got really old for me quickly in high school. The only thing that made it any easier was the fact that we only shared a few classes together. I mean, we were both smart, but always having her bragging when she got a better score got old. I was also very glad she never took any of the art classes. Lucy tried cheerleading, and in the few games I went to, Renée was always close by, cheering her on. This had gone on long enough that when rumors were going around school that the two of them were lovers, Lucy stopped cheerleading overnight.

It was unfortunate because even in middle school I always wanted to ask Renée out to a dance or something. But if she and Lucy were lovers, oh well, I guessed it really was never meant to be. Renée hated me, and I could tell it. It was too bad because I loved her fiery red hair and deep green eyes. Oh, those eyes, I could lose my soul looking into them, if given the chance. Unfortunately, trying to do so would have cost me, my soul, if Lucy had been around. Of that one fact, I was very sure.

It was the last day of our 1st semester. Our science teacher had given a test the day before and was lecturing us on our science projects coming up. We would be partnered with three or four to each group. The project was to be completed in three months. The best three groups would go to the regional science fair. In the regional, there were scholarships to be had, so my buddies all wanted to partner up with me. Renée had the same problem. Basically, everyone knew that the two of us would get an A for the project, and the project was 50 percent of the semester’s grade.

To the class’s utter shock, the teacher said that she was going to assign our partners according to the project she assigned to us. Ouch! We didn’t even get to pick our project; she was going to assign it to us. She started mentioning all kinds of ideas for different projects, and the subject of robots came up. I think it was Danny that did it. He was a computer whiz and was looking for an easy ‘A’ I think.