I grew up in a small town where the kids were allowed to play outside all day with little or no supervision.  We were called in at suppertime.  With such exposure we boys, and a lot of the girls, became very brave little beings.  Snake, spiders, scorpions, creepy crawlers and all sorts of other things, including Mr. Ragsdale’s old bull who liked to chase kids, evoked no fear in us…. just part of another day living in a small town.  We played our imaginary games as though they were real.  We fought Indians, hunted bear, chased down mountain lions, survived being lost in the wilderness, dug foxholes to fight the war, even laid looking up at the stars and took trips into outer space.  There was no fear – just adventure!  Well, no fear until we started to school. 

School itself wasn’t the fear.  But something at school was scary and injected a dose of fear never felt before.  Maybe the fear had something to do with being locked in, enclosed, and out of our environment with these strange beings called girls.  Sure we had played with some of these girls in our games, but this was different – that had been in our world.  We were now in a different place controlled by other people.  Something about these girls was different now.  It must have been! – because we began to chase them.  That’s what recess was about – chasing the girls.  Sort of like seeing a wild animal you are afraid of… you jump toward it...  it moves back... you run at it….It runs and you chase it away.  Our habit was to bestow the title of Queen to one of the girls, our favorite girl, place her on her thrown, then chase her all over the school ground.  I had a favorite Queen I chased for years.  This is the story of that Queen and the chase.  

Today, years and years later, my favorite Queen still wears the scars of my chase.  

A typical day of school and first recess.  I found my Queen and helped her seat herself in the recessed portion of an outside window of the old school building (her Thrown) and anointed her Queen for recess.  Then the chase was on!  She ran like the wind from slide, to merry-go-round, to seesaw, -- with me always right behind her.   Finally I had her cornered with no escape except up the concrete steps of the old school.  She went for the escape up the steps with me behind her step for step.  She was making a gallant try to escape… but then it happened.  She tripped, fell, and went crashing to the concrete steps.  She slowly stood up with her hand over her mouth… “Oh my God…she broke one of her front teeth on the steps” – which by now were permanent teeth.  When she stood up and removed her hand I saw she had one regular front tooth and one half front tooth.   I stood there looking at my Queen…  “What had I done!?”  My internal fear I felt from her turned to shame… shame for what I had done to her.  “How could this be that I had been the cause of such a horrible thing? …. Especially to my Queen!”  

I was so embarrassed I stayed away from my Queen for a period of time.  Another year or so went by and my Queen’s tooth had been repaired by a dental cap.  I couldn’t stand it!… for some reason she looked better than ever to me.  Maybe she looked better because of some relief to my guilt seeing her tooth repaired… who knows…I just know she was beautiful, I had a fear of her, and the chase was on again…. Through the sand of the merry-go-round, under the seesaw, past the slide, and into a chain linked fence.  My Queen smashed into the fence, fell briefly to the ground, came up with her hands over her face.  I stood there… now with a different kind of fear and flash backs of her falling on the steps.  “Oh my God… what have I done now?”  I saw blood on her face.  My heart beating out of control and shaking with fear, I slowly moved her hands from over her face.  My mind raced -- “On no!… you vile being!… what have you done to your Queen now?!”  “Why didn’t you leave her alone?!”   God was watching over her and me.  The blood was from a cut under her eye with no damage to the eye… just a lasting scar.  My chase was over… I had inflicted enough damage to my Queen for a lifetime. 

Some years went by and somehow we remained friends.  I couldn’t understand how she could even stand to look at me, much less how she could still be friends with me after the things I had done to her.  But being the soft spirit she is, she found forgiveness for what I had done.  She invited me to a party at her house.  Not her party, but her older brother’s party.  Her older brother was cool… he sang…and ran with the coolest guys two grades ahead of us.  These older guys were way out of my league… way cool guys and super intimidating to me.  But I accepted the invitation to the party so I could be with my Queen, not totally believing she still even liked me.  

Nervously I got ready for the party.  I put on what I considered to be my coolest cloths to try and fit in.  I knew all the right cloths in the world really weren’t going to make me cool like those older guys… but I did the best I could.   My Mom drove me to their house.  The front porch light was on and people were arriving for the party.  Mom pulled up in front of the house to let me out… I couldn’t move… fear gripped me so bad I couldn’t open the car door.  I had double fear… fear of my Queen and fear of the older cool guys.  I made up some silly something and ask my Mom to drive around the block once before I got out.  Mom knew what was going on and asked no questions… she just drove around the block… four times!  Finally she said, “Are you sure you want to go to this party?”  I knew that was it… her patience was wearing and I knew I had to get out of the car this time.  I did.  I shook all the way up the walk and could hardly make my fingers stop shaking enough to ring the doorbell.  “Ding Dong”… blood ran from my face and I know my heart stopped beating… I believe I actually died for a moment standing waiting for the door to open.   

“Please God I want to live!”  

The door opened and there was my Queen standing before me… dressed for the party… she was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen… smiling big -- exposing those pretty front teeth.   What a relief that she had opened the door.  My heart started to beat again -- all though furiously fast.  She had on a light blue dress with lots of petty coats – the style in those days.  At that moment she became my island and safe haven in a freighting stormy world.  I shook my way in the door with droplets of sweet coming from every pore in my body.  My hands were clammy and felt like I had washed them without drying.  She softly smiled at me and welcomed me to the party.  Her smile was radiant and her voiced as from an angel.  “Oh God, would I live through this night?”  

She took me to some snacks that were set out for the guest of the party.  My hands were trembling so bad I refused the snacks.  I could not afford for anyone to see my trembling hands.  The next little while of the party was mostly a blank… with me making some failed attempt to mix with the older cool guys but mostly looking to see where my Queen was.  Then it was time for music and dance in the living room.  The RCA was pulled out and a carefully selected batch of 45s were put on to play.  The party was underway!  I wasn’t sure what to do or where to go as I watched the cool guys take their girls to the living room floor and begin to dance. I couldn’t dance like them!  I was too young… not experienced enough… or maybe just not cool enough.  I stood in the living room and started to shake harder than before.  As I stood there almost starting to gasp for breath, my Queen came in and led me to a seat in the corner of the living room.  The seat was big enough for us to sit side by side.  I was so relieved to just sit down… before I fell to the floor from nervousness.  I sat there and caught my breath again… what a relief!  My beautiful Queen was sitting beside me. 

As I watched the cool guys dance, mix, and have fun my uneasiness began to build again.  “I’m just not that cool”.  I began to lightly tremble and my hands began to sweat again.  From out of no where… like she knew everything I was thinking and feeling… my Queen took my hand in hers and covered it with her petty coat so no one could see we were holding hands.  It was the most wonderful touch I had ever felt!  She was really a Queen and an Angel!  As I began to relax holding her hand, she gave my hand a gentle squeeze I have remembered for a lifetime.  No words were spoken but everything was said!  A bonding I will feel for her forever.  My Queen, my Angel, who I had chased to near destruction comforted me in my time of near death.   

Time moves on, people grow and change, get involved in their own interest, move away, move back, and such it has been with my Queen and me.  The Angel of my life by which I set my standards… yet have never found.  Throughout our lives my Queen and I have crossed paths… each time one or both was committed to another.  I often wonder how life might have been different had I been more cool and overcome the youthful fear of my Queen? 

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."  ‑ 1 Corinthians 13:11 

Or did I?  

Barnum Taylor ©  2003