Christmas is coming. Christmas is coming!
I lay in my bed snug under my sheets with "my Kristy" gigundoly near me! Oh, how I love her. Or is it L-U-V? I asked her once and she just paused - stood still - with musing in her eyes. I could imagine cupcakes floating above her head in circles. Hee. Hee. Her eyes glistened a little; they looked wistful. Then she snapped out of it and said in an official tone about how she "loved me, L-O-V-E" and something about how we needed to stick together in this B-. I gasped when she said that. It was a bad word. A naughty word. I wanted to correct her but the, uh, atmosphere, I think, clamped down that urge. But not today. Not today! No silly atmosphere or moodiness (There certainly is a lot of moody people around here. Gosh.) is going to dampen MY spirits today.
Tomorrow is the Big Day. The Big Day! I try to maneuver my closed eyes to mimic the snugness that my body feels while cocooned under my bedsheets. Mmm. Hmm. I feel like how a perfectedly baked blueberry pie must feel the moment it's brought out of the oven; it must be so happy brimming with so much freshness. I see it smiling with satisfaction as it's set down gently on a soft and supple tablecloth. Moosie and Goosie will be there, too. They will throw wide the door with ecstatic grins and a single tear will dot the corner of one of their eyes each. I'll run to them strewing tears along my path on the cold, hard concrete floor right into their fuzzy loving eager arms. I'll kiss them and leave big red lipstick-kiss marks on them that only they and I could see. The Big House and the Little House will be joined in a gigundoly group hug. I move an index finger around drawing imaginary X's and O's under my covers.
I snuggle myself deeper and deeper into the groove that I've made in my mattress. I could feel it already: the smears and smudges of gravy, grease, icing and crumbs all over my mouth area. I will pick my teeth with a toothpick for the first time. I've seen my stepdad do this many times in restaurants and reckon that this will be a time that I'll need to also. Now I finally know why they don't let us wear belts here: to prepare us for a day like tomorrow! So we don't feel confined when we eat!
I rub each of my thighs a little with my fingers with scratching-an-itch motions under my sheets as I imagine the spread of the dishes multiplying before me. I've got fried chicken, gravy with mashed potatoes, a whole large pizza and a whole cheesecake coming my way. I just hope I won't embarrass myself if the other people see me. They'll see food stains all over my pink satin dress. And my tiara might fall off of my head if I accidentally belch unexpectedly.
I wake up the next morning. A guard opens my jail cell while another wheels in a cart with four dome-covered plates of food.
"Kristy! Kristy! Guess what?" I exclaim as I hopped off of the top bunk of our bunk bed.
"Who?" a guard named Tavers (I read his name tag) asked. He looked at the other one who just shrugged.
"My roommate," I explained with my excitement dwindling.
"Oh," Tavers replied, bored. "You mean Shania. She's in the yard so you could eat in peace. We'll be your only company while you finish up with this. We'll be outside of the door so you won't feel intruded upon. Remember, the pastor will come see you later today. Even if you're not religious, I would still hear him out."
"You might regret it come tomorrow if you don't," the other guard chuckled as he lifted off each lid to unveil each one of my delicious choices.