An envisioning . . . . Saturday morning down the hill at the tennis court in the summer of 1921. . .

Oh to be here

The sun risen in the sky and nothing to do but fun until someone littler at home needs watching. New tennis costume from the young ladies’ shop in Coolidge Corner that the girl who sits behind in class knew about. A new kind it is. Sports clothes.

Stores downtown for the older ladies who just lunch, sit and go to their clubs. Old and boring with those huge hip pockets and skirts so big you could put a little brother in each side and he couldn’t get out. What the big places have that no one young wants.

Well someone wants them but if they do it just isn’t their kind of shop.

Middy tied and little sister wailing because Mother won’t get her one. Friends waited on and then out the door and down the hill towards the park. The shop down the street for ice-cold sodas and across the big street and down through the back of the park to the courts.

Luckier than last week, it is. Cute boys on the courts opposite instead of boring looking ones like last time. A good thing what with the shop and the outfit. Having to wear that boring old thing from gym class otherwise. That no boy will ever notice anyone in. No, so ugly they must pick them out on purpose so no one can ever flirt after school and make the headmaster nervous.

A soda consumed and the game not going well. The cutest boy smiling and smiling back. But what to try next. The ball hard to hit way up over the fence but a second soda from the corner store and another try with the other boy bringing it back.

Another time and the cute one instead. Mother wanting to go out but no. No one met at the last three dances and one now . . . . . no  . . . . .life needing to be lived and the rest to wait . . . . . .no point in breathing if you can’t get out there and live . . . . .