High School

“You can smell these eucalyptus trees. Wait, can you smell that?”

Beatrix walks ahead of me with her empty backpack, under the eucalyptus trees, nodding her head, “Yes.”

My linen top is marked with sweat pools. It’s muggy but when you are deep-valley and the sun is covered by cloud you are blessed.

Every ten steps that I take, it feels like I’ve been spat on. Those weird huge gob raindrops that are so few and far between and so… gobby. L.A. valley rain.

We are entering a large, white round quad of the High School Beatrix will be attending next week. This school is old and there are few kids here for registration: 9th grade, L-Z is sparse.

To the left of the quad is a football field. On the ground, a football field and stands are much more impressive than they are on T.V.

This football field has had no updates since perhaps the 1980’s.
It’s in good condition. But the white speakers on top of the wooden posts look very familiar to the speakers my school had in the 1990’s.

I tell Beatrix, ”Marilyn Monroe went here.”

She laughs, ”No, she didn’t.” She stops walking, still laughing, “This song. Who is playing this song?”

I pull my top off my stomach and boob sweat. I look back to the large football field, past the large eucalyptus, up the posts to the speakers and tune in to what Beatrix is hearing.

It’s Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Simple Man, someone controlling the arena’s speakers has turned up the volume.

”Someone is going through it.” Bea says and looks at me with her sweet eyes, clean thick lashes lining them. I imagine an old man up in the eagles nest or whatever sports people call the control room of an arena. I imagine he is wearing a baby blue jumpsuit.

Every moment with Beatrix is magical to me.

I sing along, and serenade her in the quad because no one is around. We begin to walk again, side by side. She’s taller than me now. All of my children are taller than me now.

“And be a simpllllleeeee kind of man. Oh, be something you love and understand. Baby, be a simple kind of man Oh, won’t you do this for me son, if you can?”

And the rain spits on my face again and I stop singing, knowing I’m exactly where I should be.

“Of course you know this song.” she laughs. “It’s pretty dramatic for registration day.”

I touch her arm.

”This is the best school I’ve ever been to. And I went to a great school. I envy you, with this music overlord. This year is going to be great.”