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Droobles' Best Blowing Gum
I've seen at least a million of them—royal blue paper, lighter, glaring letters that spell out DROOBLES' in bubbly script. Every single wrapper is exactly the same; they haven't changed the labels since the gum was introduced twenty years ago.
There is nothing exciting or extraordinary about these wrappers. They are simply small bits of paper encasing a stick of bright blue bubble gum. They possess no magical powers, they aren't worth money, they aren't even collectibles. Special? Nothing less so.
But there they are: three to a page, each neatly stuck to the cream colored paper with clear spell-o-tape and dated.
The dates start seven years ago, the year I turned ten and was allowed to see them—to see her—again.
Her face was just like I remembered it (although it was a blurred and distant memory, with the details filled in from old photographs) only a little vacant, as if she were confused. But she smiled at me, and I thought everything was okay. These years of separation, of nighttime longings and homesickness even at home would be over now. I ran to her, my arms outstretched, yearning for that which I barely remembered…but I stopped just short of her, and slowly my arms lowered. She did not know me.
Tears filled my eyes, obscuring my vision. Gran had warned me about this, that she would not recognize me, but as soon as I had actually seen the face that had seemed so much a fairytale throughout my childhood, I had forgotten her words. Now, as I came crashing back down to earth, I wanted to run far, far away and never look back.
She must have noticed my dismay, for she crossed the short distance that remained between us and patted my arm. Then, as if a brilliant idea had come to her, her face lit up and she reached into her pocket. After fishing around for a moment, she retrieved something and held it out to me.
It was a Droobles' Best Blowing Gum wrapper.
I took it from her slowly and turned it over in my hands. Glancing up, I saw that she seemed anxious, and I realized that she was waiting to see if her gift had cheered me up. I smiled and thanked her for the wrapper, and made a show of tucking it into my pocket for safekeeping.
She laughed. It was the saddest, most beautiful thing I have ever heard.
Gran took me by the arm then, saying that we had been there long enough and to say my goodbyes. Holding back my tears—it's been ten years since I've seen them, and you take me away so soon!?—so as not to upset the innocent woman in front of me, I waved to her and to the man across the room. She waved back with a smile, he merely stared.
Gran was clucking her tongue, ready to leave, and as soon as I had uttered a quiet goodbye she ushered me quickly out the door. I took one look back as we left and bit my lip to keep the tears from falling freely.
The dates in my book continue on for seven years, up until yesterday. This wrapper fills up the last slot in my book, and I realize the irony of it all—the book is full, and today I graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This scrapbook full of empty Droobles' Best Blowing Gum wrappers was my coming of age ritual, and now it is completed on the very day I open a new book in my life. Gently I close the book and look up to see Harry and Ron waiting on me.
"Ready?" Harry asks, saying nothing as I swipe away a few tears. I nod and stand up, and together we walk out of our dorm and down to our ceremony.
Later, as my name is called and I look out across the crowd, I swear that in the back I can see the angelic face that I have loved my whole life smile at me, and I can see her pride and love shining through her eyes, and she knows that I am her son.