(On a park trail, Friend 1 and Friend 2 navigate carefully over the uneven terrain)
Friend 2: (Gingerly stepping down a highlands hill) I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking the difficult trail this time.
Friend 1: (Holding onto a tree trunk for the descent) C’mon, you can’t stay on the easy-to-moderate trails all your life, you’ve gotta branch out a little – ow! (Stubs foot on an exposed tree root and nearly falls off the mini-mountain)
Tree 1: <Heh-heh: got another one>
Tree 2: <Sweet> (The two trees’ branches slap each other in triumph)
Friend 2: (Helping Friend 1 regain footing) Still, this is the most exercise I get in a week, so I suppose I should be grateful.
Friend 1: You’re welcome. (The ground levels out slightly and they continue onward with minimal interruption)
Friend 2: And it’s great coming here after Labor Day, with no more summer state park fees, summer crowds, or summer weather.
Friend 1: But it’s still summer.
Friend 2: Yeah, technically, but you know as soon as Labor Day hits, fun time’s over.
Friend 1: (Takes a swig from a water bottle) Ugh, don’t remind me: I hate this time of year.
Friend 2: Well, sure, I know you love beaches and boardwalks and any excuse to have funnel cake, but you gotta admit that the cooling weather, changing leaves, and absence of shore traffic are definitely perks.
Friend 1: Oh, no doubt; I won’t argue with any of that.
Friend 2: Then what is it?
Friend 1: (Stops walking, stares at an osprey landing on a nesting pole in the distance, and sighs; through gritted teeth) Back. To. School.
Friend 2: (Also having stopped walking) You… haven’t gone back to school in over 20 years.
Friend 1: I know. But the 17 I did during my formative era have been seared into my brain and will never leave, at least until the inevitable dementia’s in full force. No, scratch that: with my luck, those’ll be the only memories I’ll have at that point.
Friend 2: (As they both start walking again) All right, going back to school after summer break was sad and annoying, but it wasn’t that bad. We got to see all our friends again.
Friend 1: I saw them in just the right amounts during break, I-thank-you.
Friend 2: Some of the work was interesting.
Friend 1: To you, maybe: I was a terrible student and didn’t need a yearly reminder.
Friend 2: (Winces slightly) …You liked Band! And Drama Club, don’t forget that!
Friend 1: (Chuckles) True, true. I miss those geeks; made me feel superior to the nerds in Chess Club.
Friend 2: What about the athletes?
Friend 1: Don’t talk to me about those dorks!
Friend 2: (Defensively) Hey, I was on the basketball team for three years in high school!
Friend 1: Oh right. Well, you were OK.
Friend 2: (Shakes head in exasperation) Whatever – point is, for us, school was all right and not the faux-traumatic experience you’re acting like it was.
Friend 1: I’m not saying it was; I’m just saying I hate Back to School. Every year, all the anxiety and pressure come flooding back in like they never left.
Friend 2: Oh, well, then just… don’t think about it, I guess.
Friend 1: I have yet to hear an instance where that suggestion has ever worked for anything.
(That night, Friend 1 lies in bed, staring at a digital clock on the lamp table)
Friend 1: Mm-hm:
at this time 20+ years ago, I was dreading the first day of high school… first
day of middle school… (Starts drifting to sleep) elementary school… kindergarten…
pre… schooooooolllll….
THE DREAM
(In a never-ending hallway filled with students, Friend 1 stands in the exact center, dressed like a 1990s teenager but still with a 2020s face, carrying a backpack and holding several textbooks with paper bag covers in one arm and an illegible class schedule in the other hand)
Friend 1: (Looking around frantically through the streams of passing students, gigantic lockers, and infinite closed doors as many bells constantly ring) Where’s my classroom?! WHERE’S MY CLASSROOM????!!!!
(Suddenly seated in the very front row of a classroom, Friend 1 strains to read what is written on the overwhelming chalkboard)
Friend 1: (Squinting) Three times – Brontë, who – apartheid, when – igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic rocks, that – mi chiamo, che – differential equations?!
Teacher: (Standing at the front of the classroom, head almost touching the ceiling and growing every second) Now class, please turn in your reports on the entire science textbook that were due today.
Friend 1: (As all the other students hold out packets of neatly typed reports with perfectly formatted cover sheets) But – but – today is the first day of school – ?
Teacher: (Leans down from the heights to get in Friend 1’s face) THIS WAS YOUR SUMMER READING PROJECT! YOU HAD MORE THAN TWO MONTHS TO COMPLETE IT!
Friend 1: But – but – a report on a science textbook?
Teacher: THE ENTIRE BOOK!
Friend 1: But – but – I don’t have it –
Teacher: YOU’D BETTER HAVE IT BY TOMORROW OR
YOU’LL REPEAT THIS GRADE BEFORE YOU EVEN STARTED IT! (Straightens up and addresses the rest of the
room) Now class, let’s begin our study of the American, English, and Russian
Civil Wars by simultaneously proving Fermat’s Last Theorem and translating the Constitution
of France into Middle English, backwards –
(Friend 1’s eyes snap open as a buzzing cell phone nearly falls off the lamp table)
Friend 1: (Answering the phone) Hellllllllooooooo????
Friend 2: (On a cell phone at an office desk) You sound awful – everything OK?
Friend 1: It is now; what’s up?
Friend 2: Well, I was gonna leave a message just checking on whether you’ve gotten over your “Back to School Phobia” or whatever it is you have going on.
Friend 1: (Lies back and rubs forehead) Actually, I just woke up from a nightmare about the whole thing, and it was probably the worst dream I’ve ever had in my entire life.
Friend 2: Oh, wow, that stinks.
Friend 1: Yeah. But, in a strange way, I think it may have been exactly what I needed.
Friend 2: How so?
Friend 1: Well, it was so ridiculously and unrealistically horrible that now my actual memories aren’t so bad in comparison.
Friend 2: (Leans back in desk chair in triumph) So: I was right.
Friend 1: Don’t rub it in. Suffice it to say, I am now at peace with Back to School and can look upon that time fondly and enjoy this season at last.
Friend 2: Good, because the reason why I was only going to leave a message instead of having this full-blown conversation is that I figured at this point in the day you’d be at post-school era, adult-world work, so now I think you’re about two hours late.
Friend 1: …I wanna go back to school.
