"I dunno, 'Lan," my little cousin tells me, never calling me Chris or Alan since she was around a year old. Nine years of being 'Lan to her, I just answer to it now because I know it's her.
"Pookie, just do it. Besides, I already have your parents' ok."
"You'll be driving through Clarion, right?" she asks, thinking about it.
"Yes, we will live in my apartment in Orlando and Molly is coming with me."
"Molls is coming?" she asks with so much excitement.
"Yes, she will attend high school down there. Mom is moving down there by the end of summer, Pook."
I call her Pookie for the simple reason that she tried to say 'cookie' but it came out 'pookie' instead and it's the first word she said to me. She was about one or two and I was in fourth grade, plus mom has it on tape. "Can we meet some celebrities?"
I laugh at her enthusiasm. "That's LA, not Orlando," I tell her.
"No, there's a beach near there! And MMC is taped there!"
"Right! I forgot about your obsession for the Tony kid and that Ryan Gossomething boy."
"Ryan Gosling," she proudly announces. She is a Nickelodeon and Disney kid.
"Yeah, maybe we can attend a few tapings." Oh, her name and birthdate? Cassandrya Jaylyn Kirkpatrick and was born June 17, 1979 in Clarion.
"Maybe."
"I'll make sure you meet them."
"Cookie promise?" A cookie promise is where I get her a Cookie Monster doll and my mom sews a velcro closure pocket in its back to write promises and store them. A new start calls for a new one.
"I uphold the cookie promise with a new monster," I ensure her.
"Ok, deal. I'll go. Promise is a promise."
"I'll scoop you in two weeks. I leave in a week, Pook."
"Do me a favor, 'Lan?"
"What's that?"
"Call me anything close to my name in public and only Pookie at home."
"Sure, 'Drya."
June 13, 1990
It's four days before her 11th birthday and I'm minutes away from picking her up to head to Orlando after some down time. I'll be staying here the night and all day tomorrow until after dinner, sleeping while she has her final full day of school here in Clarion. I have to drive 18 hours to get us to Orlando, Molly in tow.
I have on a Pittsburgh Penguins jersey, jeans and a pair of Converses that need replacing soon. Mom will be here early tomorrow with my other three sisters, Kate, Taylor and Emily. Pookie said something about having a Christmas present she forgot about for me and one for each of my sisters. She's never been cheap on us, always spending her allowance and babysitting money on things we need. I know she's always thought of us because we mean so much to her, more than the rest of the family. Molly is asleep in the backseat and I have my little beater of a Volkswagen Rabbit.
It's almost time for Pook to get up and I'll be outside, leaning on this piece of shit to give her a ride to school.
Talk about timing it all just right. I pull out front and sit on the edge of the hood, patiently waiting for her to come outside. She's plugged into her Walkman as she comes out of the house, locking the door after herself and being the last one out. She's an only child. She walks down the porch steps, looking at the ground to ensure her footing. I sneak up behind her and reminiscent of that weirdo that breathes down Helga's neck in 'Hey Arnold'. She whips around and punches me in the stomach, I hunch over as I hold my gut while I wait for the pain to subside. "Jeeze, Chris! You know not to do that!" she scolds.
"I forgot," I wheeze.
"You'll think twice before doing it again, huh?" she comments, shoving her Walkman in her sweatshirt pocket and placing her fists on her small hips. In a year or two, she's going to have curves and I know that any guy that tries anything will be owned…by her!
"Yeah," I say, sucking in a breath and standing up straight. "I'm so nice that even after that greeting, I'm still willing to give you a ride to school."
"Where's your hot rod?" she retorts teasingly.
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