Wednesday, February 10, 2016

A Pass

     Uncle Sam pays for my expensive new pills even though I'm not eligible for military service, due to my epilepsy. It never even crossed my mind when I was growing up.
     Maybe the Peace Corps but never the Marines.
     I took the ASVAB in high school only to get out of class. It was Donna's idea.
     She's my other best friend since before kindergarten. That's when we decided that having daddies with the same first name is like being related.
     We took the test in the auditorium, I think. It wasn't a big deal and didn't take very long at all. There were no partitions between us because why would we cheat?
     She always knew the legit ways to get out of class, like donating blood. (I passed out afterward, which was weird for me then.)
     Once we were out, we could slip away to her boyfriend's apartment for lunch. We liked to play in his kitchen and pretend to be grown-up, like him.
     It was fun, even the one time we got caught at a stoplight beside the school secretary (the mean one!) We didn't look over, but she spotted us.
     There we were, sitting at the stoplight across from our church, trying to keep straight faces so she wouldn't notice us more somehow.
     It was scary and exciting at the same time, sitting there wondering what she would do when we all returned to school later. She knew we didn't have a pass.
     That's the last thing I remember about that day. More than likely, we continued with our plans, since we were already busted.
     The funny thing is, she never did anything to us. No one called us out of class to hang our heads in shame before the principal; there were no whispered phone calls to our parents telling them what their bad, sneaky daughters had done that day at school.
     Still, every time the secretary passed me after that, whether she looked over or not, I thought to myself, "She knows what I'm up to; I'd better be careful, or she'll tell on me."
     It wasn't a scary feeling or even a bad one, although I saw her all the time, up and down the hallways. She never told on me but somehow helped keep me in line.