Ever since I can remember, I recall the old people; my parents age and up, referring to me as adventurous, independent, free thinking, etc. There were other people who appeared to see this as a discordant note and tried to get me to think about changing, "Why don't you be like your friend, Timmy and go into sports or find a hobby that other people do."

I found the latter comments as strange as I had plenty of friends and we rode bikes, walked about, built things;- usually to destroy and explored at the park. Timmy was a friend who lived a few houses down the street and had a sister named Marcia. Next to them was the Perry's and there was Vanessa, who was Tim's age and Linda who was a year older than me. Around this time, the street was going to have three more girls grace it; Beth, Michele Perry and my sister, Cindy.

There were people at Parkville Elementary School that considered me poor, as the family had only one car, my mother was a homemaker that stayed at home and I walked to school from third grade on. Kindergarten was interesting as the class rooms weren't located at the school, but across the street at Hiss Methodist Church.

From Kindergarten to third grade it was either Miss Lois or Mrs. Perry that gave me rides, back and forth to school. I just go to their house and get a lift. They were always at a particular place outside of school to give me a lift home. I enjoyed the transportation, but there were times it was grating on me. Occasionally, I was yelled at for being late, despite the fact that I had to wait for quite a while until they were ready and constantly hearing comments about my dad from one of the ladies.

I think I started walking to school in the spring of third grade. To get to school was simple, it was about a nine tenths of a mile trip; down my street, up another one and then up the hill on Harford Road. Getting home, usually involved a diversion, either crossing Hiss Avenue to get to Classes; which was one of the last soda fountains and candy store, to join the throng of other students or to stop off at the farm store.

Essentially on the way home, I was retracing the steps that I had taken while walking to school. I did know all of the side streets in the area from the summer months and my bike trips. It was obvious that Jean wouldn't be at all happy with me looking at her, but I got the bright idea to find out where she lived, which I figured would be a lost cause thinking that her mother would be driving her.

At the end of the school day, I had my books ready and coyly let Jean grab hers and followed her out. She walked! I let her get so far ahead, she was nothing more than a small blond-haired blob about the size of a period on this sentence. All I knew was she went straight, when I had to turn off on to Wilson Avenue, which ran parallel to Harford Road.

I figured it was best to follow her like this from afar, but there was a subliminal process going on that I wasn't aware that was occurring. The blond blob of her bouncing hair was getting bigger, instead of the force field of a hundred feet, it slipped to 50ft; the next day twenty feet. Before I knew it and Jean realized it, I was faithfully walking about ten feet behind her. Sort of, the reverse of the traditional Indian and Muslim way.

That distance only took a couple of days before Jean became aware of my presence. A couple of times it seemed that Jean wanted to look behind her, but didn't and the second that she did, I stopped dead in my tracks. Jean did this a few more times and without control, I instantly stopped dead.

She made it to Wilson and yelled at me to make my turn, "Now!" The next day, it was pretty much the same, but Jean started to walk up to me and I tried to hide. I actually thought a thin metal sign post would hide me. She walked a little further and stopped and walked up to me. I started walking backwards and she yelled, "Stop!" She stuck her face in mine and growled, "Grrrrrr." Thank God the weekend was coming! I couldn't have handled much more.

Another day of school and time for the walk home; this time it was Jean waiting for me. As soon as I got to the base of the steps on the side of the school, Jean said, "Come, on boy! Come on!" She jutted out in front of me and started walking, but I didn't like her attitude and tried to hang back, but Jean noticed and yelled, "Come on boy!" and started skipping. As it became time for me to make my turn, she simply started laughing. I didn't feel this change in her was good at all...

It wasn't. Jean bolted from the class at the end of the day and I figured that this was all over, but I still took that way home. To my surprise, Jean was again at the bottom of the steps and said, "Come boy, it's time for your walk!" Than making a gesture with her hand, of pulling on a leash; which totally pissed me off.

Every once in a while, she would look back, start laughing, making that damned leash gesture, before she would start skipping. At that time, I couldn't think of a word to describe that feeling that her behavior gave me, but "totally humiliated," fits perfectly.

We were now on her road and there was a woman, on the other side of the street working on her garden. Jean stopped, then I stopped; Jean got the woman's attention and yelled out, "Hey! Do you want to see my new pet?"

The woman said to her, "I sure do!" I was interested to see the new pet as well.

Jean pointed to me and yelled to her, "There he is!" and ran away. I was in near tears.

The woman had her laugh and told me, "Don't get upset, she likes you. You picked a very nice friend to have." I sure didn't think so anymore...

There was one more item of added humiliation, when it was time for me to make my turn, Jean started laughing at me and yelled, "Oh, you're such a good boy! If you are good tomorrow, I'll take you home and we'll feed you. Give you a bath... Maybe my sister will even rub your ears; she does that sort of thing." With that, Jean turned and started walking home, bursting out laughing.

For me, it was a very heavy and long walk home; all that I knew was that with this situation that I found myself in, had to change. I just couldn't take it anymore. I figured that one of two things had to happen; either I had to stop trying to walk home with her and switch back to walking Harford Road, or I had to step up and be a man about things...

"But how does a sixth grader, become a man? Is that even possible? What would a man my age do?" Well, I prayed to have Jean come into my sixth grade life; I prayed and thanked God each day for having made this possible, I prayed to express the desire to be even closer to Jean, so that we could do things together and now... I am now praying to God, because I am desperate to turn this situation around.

"Dear God, please help me because I need it. I like Jean and want to be around her, but not as her pet... I can't stand that one. Please help me out so I can be closer to her as I want her as a friend... God, I'm afraid that I love her... Oh, God..."