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Posts Tagged ‘Cape Cod’

The End of the Cold

by Kaylee R. – 8th Grade

My brother is the figure in the left bottom corner and my cousin is the long silhuette.

My brother is the figure in the left bottom corner and my cousin is the long siluet in front of the boat.

Hunger. I guess I could call it that. I have a growing hunger to be free. Not from a literal prison, but from the cold chains of winter that bind me inside. I’m not the only one who feels this way; my family, friends and the Earth itself share the pain. The Earth has been hidden and is finally stretching after a long, frigid sleep.

My cousin and I are starting to get a bad case of “Cape Sickness.” “Cape Sickness” is when you are tired of winter and need spring and summer or you will explode. It is called “Cape Sickness” because we miss our summer home at Smaland Beach, Island Pond. My family has been going to this part of the Cape since my Pepe (grandfather) was a kid. Always exit 2 before the bridge’s traffic, a perfect place to stop with impassioned children in the backseat. I don’t know how my mom deals with the screams that open every spring; maybe she did the same.

An hours drive of music and excited talk. I look back into the mental pictures I’ve had since I could stand. “There’s the water tower that looks like a spiral rainbow and there’s the McDonalds with the totem pole in front.” These thoughts buzz in my head like an angry bee. Exit 3, almost there, just two more minutes, but I can’t take it and start to bounce in my seat. Finally Exit 2 comes into view and my mom pulls into the exit lane. At last my brother, my cousin, Rachel and I open the windows and scream as we approach the red school house that welcomes the highway travelers. Suddenly I feel faint and calmly breath in the Cape air.

I’ve memorized every tree and house (except the new, “fancy” ones, that take away from the Cape experience). My heart starts to beat on my chest as we pass Great Herring pond with the boats attached to white, yellow and red buoys. Three more turns and we’re there. One and now two. I can see the pond through a patch of trees. Last turn and I see my summer home, my cottage! Mom parks in the driveway that is cluttered with leaves and dirt. The kids push to be let out, of course the doors are locked and our fingers fumble with them.

Finally we’re out and high-tailing it down the crooked stairs that unfamiliar people would fall if they ran, but this is our element. We brake free of the trees and look out. My breath has left me and my heart skips a beat as I look at the clear pond that has been my inspiration since I could read properly. A smile creeps on Rachel’s face, I know what she’s thinking and I start removing my sneakers like her. We put our socks in our shoes and wade into the cool water and I am at peace, even with my brother saying we’re crazy and he is going to visit a friend. Oh well, his loss. Rachel and I get working on our summer plans as we scrunch our toes in the sand and celebrate the end of the cold.

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