Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim
Chapter One
Us and Them
WHEN MY FAMILY FIRST MOVED to North Carolina, we lived in a rented
house three blocks from the school where I would begin the third
grade. My mother made friends with one of the neighbors, but one
seemed enough for her. Within a year we would move again and, as she
explained, there wasn't much point in getting too close to people we
would have to say goodbye to. Our next house was less than a mile
away, and the short journey would hardly merit tears or even
good-byes, for that matter. It was more of a "see you later"
situation, but still I adopted my mother's attitude, as it allowed
me to pretend that not making friends was a conscious choice. I
could if I wanted to. It just wasn't the right time.
Back in New York State, we had lived in the country, with no
sidewalks or streetlights; you could leave the house and still be
alone. But here, when you looked out the window, you saw other
houses, and people inside those houses. I hoped that in walking
around after dark I might witness a murder, but for the most part
our neighbors just sat in their living rooms ... read full excerpt from: Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim ebook
