5. Can I be your friend?

My life is ruled by anxiety, panic, and paranoia. Not mine. My father’s. We don’t own a car because we could get into a car accident. We are not allowed to learn how to swim because we could drown in the process. We can’t go skiing in the beautiful Slovakian mountains because we would break our legs, or worse, hands or fingers! We need them to play the piano, of course. We can’t open the windows because we live on the 4th floor and we may fall out and die. I am not allowed to go to sleepovers, not even to my grandma’s because I am safest at home. 

We live on a busy street, framed by 7-story high apartments. They are organized into two long lines of buildings that face each other and they are separated by a busy road. Naturally, I am not allowed to cross the road because I will get run over by a car. I understand this, I truly do. But…..there is one problem. All of my classmates and all of my potential friends live on the other side of the road. I am an outcast, I am an outsider, a weird piano girl. I watch my friends from our window and I see them walking and running around right in front of my face, right across the street. They sit on wooden benches and chat, they run on the green grass. I spend hours at our window with my nose stuck on it, glued to it at all times. The glass is full of my noseprints, making new patterns every day. My father doesn’t care about the dirty glass. As long as there are no prints on his piano, he is good. 

“Dad, can I please go outside with my friends? Look! They are out there right now!” I ask longingly, pointing through the window. “No, it’s too dangerous and it’s almost dark. It’s almost your bedtime. Go put your pajamas on.” he answers. “But dad!! It’s 5 o’clock!” I obey him because I am a rule follower and I don’t want to disappoint him. I go to my room and read a book as I already finished my piano practice for the day. I have a few books at home and I read them over and over….and then over again. I pick up my beloved “Pippi Longstocking” book and I immerse myself into the story of a girl who was different too.

The very next day, I try again. “Please, let me go outside, dad, I will be careful!” He gives me a look of disapproval but after a long pause, he says: “Ok, fine, you go outside but you have to stay on this side of the street. And you can only stay in front of our building, from here to there,” he outlines the boundaries to me, pointing out the imaginary lines I am not allowed to cross. “I will be watching you the whole time. I will watch through the window to make sure you are ok. You stay where I said, got it?” 

“Yes, yes, yes, dad, I will! I promise.” He looks like he is doubting his decision now so he quickly adds, “You can go for one hour, from 4 to 5pm.

I ask 2 of my classmates in school, Lexi and Monica, who live on the opposite side of the road, if they would come meet me at my apartment building after school. Miraculously, they agree and even their parents approve. I am so excited! 

We sit on the bench in front of my apartment and we chat and we walk around and we gossip. I see my father sitting by the window as promised. He is watching me but I don’t care. “Girls, there is a playground! Let’s go!” Lexi screams and takes off running, Monica following her. I start running too, but wait, the playground is right across my father’s boundary line. I abruptly stop and look up at the window. He is still there and still watching me. “I am sorry, I can’t go,” I yell after my friends. “Why?” they don’t understand but still keep running and sit down on the seesaw. I double check the window and oh, he is not there anymore. I know he will return…. but... I will be right back…I will just stay at the playground for 5 minutes…..it’s not even that far….maybe he won’t mind….he can almost see us from the window…if he leans and turns his head further that way…. he could totally see me……maybe I could say I don’t remember where the line was….My thoughts are flying fast, justifying and rationalizing. 

I can’t resist the temptation after all. The desire to be a child is too strong. I want to fit in. I want to have friends and I want to belong. In the moment I don’t care what the consequences are. I run after my friends, we spin on the mary-go round, we laugh, we push each other on the swings, and then we just sit and chat. They treat me like their friend, not a weird piano girl with a weird father. I try to soak up every single moment of this fleeting bliss of friendship and I lose track of time.  My heart drops into my stomach the second I see my father quickly approaching the playground. The look of fury on his face. “I looked everywhere for you! How could you just leave? Home!” he points in the direction of our apartment, grabs my hand, and drags me home. “Bye,” I say quietly, embarrassed to even look at my friends. “Bye, Jarka,” they wave at me and go back to their carefree play.

“That’s it, you stay home from now on. I thought someone snatched you away. There are so many bad people around. Do you understand? Do you?” “Yes, dad,” I nod. “Now go put your pajamas on and get ready for bed.” It is 5:05pm and I obediently put my pjs on and go to my room, to my books, and to my quiet space….

A few days later, there is a knock on the door around 5pm in the evening. My father orders us to be all quiet, not knowing what kind of criminal may be hiding behind the door. He looks through the peep hole, rolls his eyes, and slowly opens the door. “Hello! Can Jarka come play outside with us?” I hear Lexi’s distant voice. I am hiding around the corner, holding my breath, listening….. “Uhm, no, she just finished practicing her piano and she is about to get ready for bed and put her pjs on,” my father says and shuts the door in their faces. I gasp and run to my bed. I want to disappear and never show my face in school again. I feel so humiliated. The next morning, I hear whispers and I see smirks everywhere I turn. It doesn’t take long for the news to spread that Jarka goes to bed at 5pm and her father is really weird. Lexi and Monica don’t come over to ask for me to play with them again. And I don’t blame them.

Ray of Sunshine

I am in 3rd grade and one day my mom announces, “Did you know that Mary lives on our side of the street?” Mary is in the same class as me. She is sweet but we never talk. We are both shy.

Oh my goodness, yes! She does live on our side of the street! Mary and I become fast friends. I am over the moon ecstatic that there is a person, at least one person in the whole entire world that talks to me, doesn’t laugh at me, doesn’t mind the constant piano presence in my life, ignores my father’s weirdness, understands that I can’t play outside, listens to me, laughs with me, gossips with me, and becomes my unconditional friend no matter what all the other kids say. Mary saves me from my miserable loneliness. She helps me forget the piano monster in my life, even if it’s just for a few seconds or minutes. She saves me, period. Her friendship is the answer to all of my wishes and dreams. All I need is to have one, just one friend, and now I have Mary! 

****Mary and I stayed friends until the end of 7th grade. At that point our lives took on different directions and I never saw her again. I will never forget her. I even remember her birthday to this day and wish her a “very happy birthday” every year. I whisper it to her in my mind. It is on October 17.