Evelyn

Evelyn Tillgren

Ev'lyn Tillgren, my really first foreign affair

(They're more often than not more mature.)

I'm in fifth grade, she's fourth, although set back a year,

With Senerva, her sister, for sure.

Our houses were close -- two blocks (closer to three)

Both were nearly a mile from the school --

Nice, since we walked, I could carry her books

She invited me in -- That was cool!

We'd play games or just talk, with her sister on guard,

Making tasty treats (also a mess)

Nothing ser'ious, but fun to see Norwegian norms

Which were better than ours, I confess.

Then one day she shocked me -- as I turned to leave

She was standing behind their front door --

She said, "We could get married someday, don't you think?"

I didn't wait there to hear anymore!

I was ten. She was nine. And beyond playing house --

Getting married? So what about kids?

It was too much to think about -- at least for me,

Instead, I thought, just hit the skids.

The next time I saw her (She'd moved far away --

And had too, grown a number of years.)

Gary Smith, who had eyes for her, went with me there

To see if she'd shed any tears

For one or for both of us. I didn't care.

But I wanted to see what'd become

Of my little Norwegian, her thoughts and her dreams --

She still laughed, but had thickened out some --

Maybe seeing the two of us threw her off pace

The term "airhead" -- to her seemed to fit --

Satisfied, with no longing, I gave my consent

So that Gary knew now he was "it."