Children's / GLORY, GLORY (an army brats story)

GLORY, GLORY. That is what my dad always sings when he is about to make my life turn upside down. Hearing him singing that, you know that life is going to change, again. Funny, how that makes him and mom so happy, and turns my stomach into fearful knots.

My name is Del, and three days ago, I turned 10. Today as oppose to five months ago, I live in Marksville. A very little town outside of an army base. I heard my dad singing as he was walking up the sidewalk. I know that song, I hate that song. He is about to drop the “we’ve got orders” bomb again.

This time I will refuse to go downstairs. I will not let them tell me. If they can’t tell me then I don’t have to move, right? I know, I know, that does sound childish. After all I am a pre-teen now. Who thought of that word anyway, pre for what? I still have to do every thing I did last year, only now I am suppose to be a little wiser about it.

Here it comes, the first call, well, the fingers are in my ears—la, la, la, I don’t hear it, and no, I will not go downstairs. I just started making friends again, and getting to know where everyone lives, and hangs out. Now that I am a “pre-teen” I think that Marchella’s brother finally sees me as a hottie. So go ahead, laugh but I have seen the new respect in his eyes when I gave him the biggest piece of my birthday cake.

Okay, still not hearing that, the second call. I am NOT going down those stairs! Who knows what horrible place they are going to move me to this time. It was just awful to leave all my friends and come here. They promised,(crossed their hearts and everything) that it would not happen again for at least 4 years, it has only been 6 months.

I will not go downstairs. I will not go downstairs! I am not going to let them tell me this time. I am going to stay up in my perfectly set up room forever. Well, maybe not forever, but long enough for them to know I am serious. Oh no, is that footsteps in the hall! Well I am just not going to listen, and no, I will not be sensible, whoever said a kid had to be sensible was not a kid,- Ever. The handle is turning on the door, nowhere to hide. I knew I needed a lock. Caught like a fly on a swatter. I will not listen, la, la, la, I will not listen.
No, I just won’t.

What? Say that again. Excuse me? I’m sorry I wasn’t listening, I didn’t hear you. We are doing what? You’re kidding right? Of course I’m not crying. I am ten for goodness sake. You’re sure? No question? I am going to have my own room and it is the house around the corner? We will never have to move again?
Well…..Glory, Glory.

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