Not A Girl Scout

At the end of fourth grade, Daddy decides to sign me up for Girl Scouts. They might be able to teach me some good habits and discipline. I don’t know much about the Girl Scouts, except that they wear green uniforms, and I’m not sure I want to join. But when I realize that Girl Scouts meetings will get me out of taking care of my little sisters and brothers for a few hours each week during the summer, I say okay.

The meeting closest to our house is about five miles away. We live way out in the country. Daddy says he’ll give me a ride to the first meeting. He puts my bicycle into our VW bus and tells me to pay attention while he drives. He’s going to drop me off at the leader’s house and after the meeting is over, I’ll ride my bike home. I’m worried about this plan.

It’s 9:45 in the morning. The July sky is bright blue and clear. Daddy backs out of our driveway and turns onto the gravel road that runs next to our house. He drives for a long time and then stops for a stop sign. He looks for cars—as usual, there are none—and turns left onto another long gravel road. We ride on that road until we come to another stop sign. No other cars here either. He turns right onto a new long gravel road. I look for landmarks, but everything looks the same: straight gravel roads with hop fields on both sides. Once in a while, a driveway leads to a farmhouse. Every house I’ve seen so far is white.

Daddy drives straight for a long time again and then turns right again. I am repeating left, right, right to myself when we come to another stop sign and turn left. Left, right, right, left. Left, right, right, left, I chant quietly. Finally, he steers our VW bus into a driveway and stops in front of a white house with a wide porch on the front of it. He gets out, walks around to slide the side door of the bus open, and pulls out my bike. As he leans it against the porch, I open my door and turn to climb out. And then I panic. Everything is going to be backwards when I ride my bike home! Left, right, right, left has to be right, left, left, right. Is that right?

I suddenly feel very anxious. “Daddy,” I say, “I don’t want to stay. I want to go home.”

Just then, a lady opens the door to the house and shouts, “Hello!” She is smiling. “Come in, come in,” she says, waving her arm furiously.

Daddy steps up onto the porch and shakes her hand. She is the leader of the Girl Scout meeting. He turns and looks hard at me. I know I’m supposed to get out of the bus and go into the house. I step down onto the dirt driveway, chanting, right, left, left, right.

Inside the house, I see five other girls: two sisters and their two cousins and the daughter of the leader. The leader introduces me. They look me over, curious about a stranger. I feel like I forgot to put on my pants. We sit down at the kitchen table and the leader gives us each a folder with Girl Scout information inside. We talk about how to earn badges and how to sell Girl Scout cookies. Wait. What? I have to sell cookies?

When the meeting is over, the leader gives each of us a glass of lemonade and we all go out to sit on the front porch. A few minutes later, a man in a pickup truck drives into the driveway. The sisters and cousins jump into the back of the truck, squealing and laughing. The man looks at me and then at my bike. He rolls down his window and offers to drive me and my bike home. I say no thank you. The man looks at me for a moment, then shrugs and drives away. I wave to the girls and then climb onto my bike. I say thank-you to the Girl Scout leader and her daughter and then start to pedal down the dirt driveway whispering right, left, left, right.

I really wanted a ride in that pickup truck, but I am never allowed to waste other people’s time and expensive things, like gasoline.

Out on the road, the thick gravel makes it hard to pedal. Sometimes I have to get off and push my bike, so it won’t tip over when I can’t pedal fast enough to keep it moving. I wish I had some water. It’s almost noon. The sun burns into my head and neck. At each stop sign, my chant gets shorter. Right, left, left, right. Left, left, right. Left, right. Right. At last, I see our house.

My legs are shaky, and my face is bright pink and slick with sweat by the time I get into the kitchen. I hurry over to the sink, fill a glass with water, and gulp it down. I drink another glass of water. Holding onto the edge of the sink, I gasp and pant, water dripping from my chin onto the linoleum.

Daddy comes into the house and stops in the back doorway, looking at me.

I burst into tears and run out of the kitchen, sobbing. I run through the living room, down the hallway, and into the bedroom I share with my four sisters.