She sat on the gray cement steps of her brick and stucco house squishing the minuscule, pesky, red “bloodsuckers” with her sneakers. The minion “vampires” as she called them that usually resurfaced this time of year as she got up from sitting on the steps to check under her jeans to make sure the coast was clear. She searched through her matching water-resistant polyester sack filled with books that told stories that would fill her mind with ideas that kept her occupied for hours, absorbed into the colorful worlds that would for prompt her to one-day create some of her own.

As she read, she could hear the neighborhood kids playing in the distance disappearing with every page she turned. It was summertime and time didn’t seem to matter much.

The air was filled with the sounds of youth, the older neighborhood girls playing double-dutch, while the boys hollering playing tag yelling “Your it!” as their Mothers cautioned them to “Stop the horsing around and don’t go too far, stay where I can see you!” The thick, braided ropes hitting the pavement in a steady rhythmic melody that broke into laughter, voices shouting “Your turn, Your turn!” accompanied by cruising cars with powerful stereos booming bass subwoofers blaring and thumping as they passed.

She occasionally joined in with the older girls but she couldn’t seem to turn the ropes without them hitting against each other and would often hear the crackling sounds of squeals, giggles, and irritated “oohs and ouch, that burns!” followed by “Natalie- You’re turning double-handed again,” which always ruined the jumper’s jumps. When she tried to be the jumper and there was always a slower pace set “One my baby, (pause) two my baby, (pause) three my baby, GO!” She was the baby of them after all and a beginner.

Sometimes she managed to stay within the ropes feeling the magic of being afloat, just a few feet up in midair; never wanting to feel her feet touch the ground.

A few times she managed to turn full circle in the middle of the ropes and she was a butterfly for just a few seconds feeling completely weightless, untouchable in that moment wishing the summer could last forever-right before the ropes collapsed onto her, the voices breaking to shared breathy, laughter “You did a good job today, Natalie!

Her neighbor could always be spotted with his pet snake wrapped around his shoulder, never found with his basketball, always waving hello as she passed peddling on her pink bicycle adorned with pink and purple silvery streamers, she would often stop to pet the snake. The sunny afternoons wore on and you can always hear the sweet, familiar sounds of Mister Softee as it signaled her to yell simultaneously with her sister “Mommy!” into the open front door echoing into the hallway all the way to the kitchen where her Mom could be found cooking dinner. Other days, she’d often find herself on the bench of sorts on her brick, grey cement porch steps, books in hand, bag filled with books by her side. Her older sister was a master at double-dutch and sometimes would ask her to play and join in.

Others, she’d wake up in the wee morning hours when no one was outside just yet and the sun was rising bright and anew, the air was quiet as if no-one had woken up yet. Surrounded by the peaceful silence of the dawning of a new day, she’d drag her red bag through the door to the front porch mustering all of her energy to pull it along.

She knew she did not need all of the books, but books were music to her ears, and one does not hear a song once and never again she reasoned, so why not bring all her favorites – those read and unread.

Summer was trips to the corner bodega to buy bags and bags of twenty-five cent potato chips and brown paper bags filled with sour power, and little colorful 25 cent “little hug” flavored waters. She’d head to the cash register with her sister splitting the cash their Mother gave them between Lemon Heads, and Jolly Ranchers-making sure they had a dollar left to get the face twisting sugary straws. Summer signified nights staying up past 8 PM to play Nintendo while the neighborhood kids snuck onto their porch to peek in and watch in their living room window,  water sprinklers in the backyard as she and her older sister invented games no-one has ever heard of, playing in the garage using sticks as microphones to sing songs no-one ever sang.