A peanut butter and jelly sandwich with strawberry jam was her absolute favorite snack. Coming home from day camp, Joyce ran up the dusty driveway, knowing there would be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich waiting for her. The late summer sun glinted off the shiny barrettes clipped to the end of Joyce�s braids, flying through the air like a horse�s mane with a first place ribbon in it. The smell of salt wafted in the air, and the sound of gently lapping waves played music, but all this was lost on her. Her tiny nose only smelled the faint strawberry scent behind the sea salt. Her eyes were focused on the porch where her sandwich sat on a white wicker table in the screened in porch to the summer cottage. Joyce hurried up the steps, discarded her pink Barbie backpack by the door, and plopped herself into the white wicker chair, ready to devour her favorite snack.

          She picked up the sandwich, and a drop of jam fell out the side and onto the paper plate. Joyce smiled. Her mom had put lots and lots of jam on the sandwich, just how she liked it. Taking a big bite, even more red jam oozed out onto the sides of her mouth, giving her a clown smile. She chewed slowly, thinking about the other kids at day camp. They had their moms cut the crust off their sandwiches, and she could never figure out why. Sometimes they made fun of her, but her friend David always told them to stop. He was her hero.

          Joyce took a gulp of her milk, and then poked her tongue out of her mouth, desperately reaching for the jam in the middle of her cheek. She was like a puppy with whipped cream on its nose, reaching for the impossible. She ate the rest of her sandwich in this way, alternating bites with sips of milk, vainly attempting to lick the growing pile of jam off her face. When she was done, she licked all the jam off her fingers, and even off the paper plate. She couldn�t do much about the bits that fell on her shorts, and so she got up to go find David. But with one foot on the porch, and one on the step, her mother appeared.

          �Joyce! Where do you think you�re going?� she asked in that simultaneously stern and loving manner only mothers possess.

          Joyce turned around to face her mother smiling, and opened her mouth to explain that she was just going over to David�s to play. But her mother half screamed, half laughed at the sight of her daughter, who looked like a vampire fleeing from the scene of the crime. Her face and shorts were smeared with the thick red jam that looked more like blood than food for a moment. Joyce�s smile broke the disturbing image, and her mother relaxed, laughing a little. �Oh Joyce. What am I going to do with you?� She walked over to Joyce and bent her tall frame to wipe the jelly from her face, and finger the stains on her shorts, but there was too much to be wiped off, even by the most determined mother. �Come on. Let�s get you cleaned up, and then you can go play.� Her mother grabbed Joyce�s hand, the jam acting as a glue that bonded them, and they walked into the cottage together.

          Joyce thought her mother was tall and beautiful. She didn�t dress like the other moms, all fancy, but more like Joyce herself- comfy. But Joyce thought her mom was the prettiest of all. And she made the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with the crust on, which was all that really mattered when it came to moms anyway.

          In Joyce�s bedroom, her mom used a damp washcloth to clean the leftover residue from her face, and tried to pick out a clean outfit for Joyce to change into. �Do you think you�re going to go swimming with David?� she asked. Joyce looked into the drawer her mom had pulled open and grabbed her pink bathing suit. It was Barbie too, just like her book bag, and she loved it, especially the big ruffle around the tummy. It had sparkles in it, and she felt like a mermaid when she swam in it.

          �Yeah mom,� her face lit up. �Will you watch us?� Joyce smiled and pleaded with her eyes, in that way her mother could never resist.

          �Okay, but only for an hour,� she sighed with a smile. �Then you have to come in and shower before dinner. You know your father doesn�t like you smelling like salt at the dinner table.�

          Joyce nodded yes. She did know that. Pushing her mom out of the room, she said �I can change myself mom. I�m a big kid, you know?� She closed the door, and then remembered something. She tried to open it, but it wouldn�t budge. She yanked hard, and it sprung open, almost flinging her to the floor. She yelled down the hall, �Can you call David�s mom and have him come over? Thanks mom,� and pushed the door closed again.

          As Joyce took off her stained clothes, she thought about the last time she had gone over to David�s to play. They had been in his room playing Chutes and Ladders, and he was winning. Joyce had to go down the biggest chute, but she didn�t care. She was looking forward to what happened once the game was over. After they played games, she and David would crawl in his bed and make a fort under the covers. They liked to tell jokes, and sometimes they would kiss.

          David didn�t kiss her like her dad kissed her mom. They kissed for a long time, and they made funny noises, kind of like the dog did when a stranger walked by. And her dad always grabbed her mom�s butt. Joyce didn�t like that. She was glad David didn�t grab her butt, because that was gross. It was her butt anyway. If anybody was going to grab it, it should be her.

          Joyce wondered how David�s parents kissed. It must be how David kissed her, otherwise how would he know what to do? He always just got closer and closer, like he was going to tell her a secret, and then he would lick his lips and press them hard against hers without moving them at all. She didn�t know what to do, so she just sat there until he moved away. Her lips were always covered in his spit, but she never wiped it away. She didn�t want to make him feel bad. So she just smiled and said, �Let�s do it again.� They would do this for a while, until David�s mom called upstairs and said it was time for Joyce to go home. They never kissed goodbye, she just left until the next time.

          As Joyce pulled her bathing suit on, she wondered if David would kiss her today in the water. It didn�t really matter anyway, because they were going swimming, and swimming was much better than kissing.

          Standing at the water�s edge in the late afternoon sun, Joyce waded in the waves. Her towel, Barbie of course, sat perched on a high rock, with David�s GI Joe towel sitting next to it. When David came to Joyce�s house, they played Barbies and G.I. Joes, because Joyce�s mom checked on them too much to play kissing. David was eight, and much too cool to play with Barbies, so his G.I. Joes killed Joyce�s Barbies, but she didn�t mind. David was her best friend for the summer, and if he wanted to kill her Barbies, he could. She and her best friend at home, Molly, would bring them all back to life once school started again.

          Standing in the water, watching David walk over from his house, Barbies were the last thing on Joyce�s mind. Swimming with David was her most favorite thing of all. He was so much fun. Joyce thought being eight was so cool, and David was the coolest eight year old she knew. She wanted to be just like him when she turned eight next year. He was so smart. He always showed her things on the shore, like dead fish and garbage. And he didn�t even do it to make her scream, like he did with all the other girls. He didn�t even care that she was a girl.

          �Hey Joyce,� he said running up to her. He smiled devilishly and tugged on her braid, causing her to shriek gleefully. He immediately turned around and ran along the shore, splashing brown sand and foamy water behind him. She chased after him, but without much effort. Joyce knew trying to catch David was like trying to get a Ken that looked real when you took his clothes off. It was impossible. Ken never had anything between his legs, which Joyce knew was wrong because David had showed her, and David could never be caught. After a moment he slowed down, and turned around tackling her into the sand.

          She bolted upright, and ran into the water to clear the sand from her body. �Come on David, let�s play the wave game.� He ran in after her, and they caught waves together, laughing at, and with, each other, fighting over who caught the most. He didn�t try to kiss her, and she didn�t care.

          After a while, both of their mothers came to the edge of the water and called them in. Joyce came out first, and wrapped herself up in her towel. David came out a few moments later, calling to her. �Hey Joyce, come here, I wanna show you something.� S

          he walked over to him, a Wonder Woman child cloaked in her Barbie towel. With his back to their mothers, David told her to open her hand. He quickly pressed something into it, and ran away. Joyce looked up at him, and quickly closed her fist before her mother could see what she had.

          �Come on Joyce, time to take a shower,� her own mother gently reminded, while trying to subtly sneak a peek at Joyce�s clutched palm.

          Back in her bedroom, Joyce quickly hid her present under her bed before her mother could see it. A few seconds later, her mother came in with a dry towel for Joyce. She clucked like a hen when she saw the dirty clothes littered on the floor, but didn�t say anything because she was searching for what Joyce had been holding. She didn�t see anything, so she picked up the clothes and headed for the door. On her way out, she took a final furtive glance around the room, still curious. She saw nothing though, and left to go make dinner, reminding Joyce to shower.

          �Okay mom. I�m going right now, see?� She followed her mother down the hall and stepped into the bathroom, starting the shower and closing the door. After hearing her mother go downstairs, she quietly opened the door again and crept back to her room.

          She opened the sticky bedroom door as noiselessly as she could, but it still popped open loudly. Joyce froze in place, on her very own mission impossible, but she could still hear her mother puttering in the kitchen, so she continued on. With her seven-year-old cat-like reflexes, she got down on her belly, crawled under the bed, and grabbed the present from David that she had hastily tossed under there . She stayed under there a moment, turning the pink seashell over in her hands. It was smooth from being beaten against the sand, and her fingers stuck to it slightly from the salt water still left there. The late afternoon sun shone under the edge of the bed, coloring the shell in orange and magenta hues. Joyce felt like a mermaid in sea cove, with her very own buried treasure. The sunlight glinted off the barrettes still in her hair like the fancy jewels everybody�s mother but hers wore.

          She wiggled her way out, and looked around her room, trying to decide where her treasure could reside safely. She finally settled on her jewelry box, because her father didn�t even know she had one, and her mother never went in it. Her seashell nestled among her fake pearls and shiny costume jewelry, safely tucked away. Joyce left her room quickly, and scampered down the hall to take her shower and get ready for dinner, thinking about David and the seashell the whole time.

neb 11/11/04