Waiting

I'd asked Monga to come have lunch with me at school the day before, so I told my teacher I'd have a guest today. He put me down for one more. I'd watched several of my peers eat from plastic trays the treasured Friday meal: spaghetti and homemade cinnamon roll. I wanted Monga and I to be a part of the cult of kids whose hip adult figures laughed with them at long cafeteria tables. I wanted Monga's insignia on a disposable carton of milk.

All morning, looking forward to being seen with Monga at lunch replaced math concepts, spelling words, volcano facts. During recess, I bragged about my upcoming lunchtime visitor.

Finally it was time to line up at the door for lunch. I marched silently with hands to myself down the hallway to the "cafeteria lady". My eyes were open wide, so as not to miss Monga in the crowd and keep her waiting.

She wasn't here yet, so I stepped aside and waited against the wall. Occasionally, a teacher would join me on the wall and ask if I was going to eat lunch. "I'm waiting for my grandma", I'd say, "She's having lunch with me today".

The bell rang. Lunch and recess lapsed. It was time to return to class.

I went into the bathroom and waited for the second bell to ring. I counted to 30. I wanted to make sure enough time had passed--wanted to make sure I'd given my teacher enough time to move on. I didn't want anyone to know I'd spent my entire lunch standing against a wall waiting for someone.

29...30...

I pushed open the bathroom door. Looked both ways. No one coming.

So, I started my journey back to the classroom I'd marched from. I tried to walk softly. I didn't want anyone to hear my backsteps. When I walked into the room, everyone turned. "You're late. Where've you been?" my teacher asked. "The bathroom", I said, and completed my trek from the wall by sitting at my desk, picking up my pencil.

At 3:30, I avoided my usual route home, not wanting anyone to walk beside me and ask what happened with my grandma not showing up for lunch.

When I got to Monga’s, I asked her what happened--why she hadn’t shown up. She responded by tightening her lip and going into the kitchen for a glass of grape juice.