Morse Code Messages

I bit down on my burnt toast, pushing my legs on the dirty floor of the front deck, the oak porch-swing creaking underneath my weight. It was a sweltering hot day, but no one cared; it was summer and because it was summer it was practically a rule to be outside. It’s not like it would make a difference to us anyway, there was no air conditioning in the house.

“What are you girls doing today?”

Aunt Nan’s fingers wrapped around the needle, pushing the thin thread back and forth. She was stitching Emily’s skirt back together. It had torn while she was playing on the swings of the Church playground last Sunday and Aunt Nan was determined to get it back to looking like it did the day she bought it. No one believed she could actually get it looking new, but we all knew she could make it wearable once again.

I shrugged, “I don’t know,” I swallowed the last of my toast, leaning to my left and squinting my eyes up at the sun. “We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Really?” Aunt Nan cocked an eyebrow, pausing mid-stitch. “You girls always plan out your summers.”

“I know,” I mumbled, glancing at her from the corner of my eye and frowning.

Aunt Nan merely went back to her stitching, murmuring something about growing up and moving on. I knew we were growing up - I mean, of course I knew - but I didn’t really think that meant moving on. All of us were just busy, we didn’t have time to talk about what we were going to be doing over summer break. But it was finally summer and that meant we were capable of talking about what we were going to do for the rest of summer.

Aunt Nan and I had sat in a tentative silence, allowing the sun to slap our backs. Perspiration glistened on my forehead, tickling my hairline. I was about to bound down the front steps and see if anyone was at home when my mom made her way onto the porch, an easy smile distorting her usually stressed features.

I frowned at her, watching as she sat down beside me. “Why are you so happy?”

My mom flashed Aunt Nan one of those “motherly” looks before patting my knee. Her thick blonde hair had been pulled into a loose bun and her brown eyes were hidden behind a pair of black, square glasses. “What, I can’t be happy?”

“No,” I muttered feebly, “it’s just that you’re not usually smiling.”

My mom just shook her head, sipping at the glass of lemonade she had been gripping in her left hand. She and Aunt Nan looked nothing alike. Aunt Nan had wispy brown hair and an ugly shade of green eyes. Mom was tall, Aunt Nan was short. Mom had a slower metabolism, Aunt Nan had a faster metabolism. Mom was easy going and fast witted, Aunt Nan was stricter and believed in following the rules and not causing a rift.

They were polar opposites, but so incredibly alike.

“Is the gang coming over?”


I let out an aggravated sigh as Aunt Nan explained to mom that “we were all growing up and probably had no interest in associating with one another now that it was summer.” I loved my Aunt Nan, but she was too quick to think that her judgement was the only way to go.

“That’s not it,” I rolled my eyes, frowning at my mom. “All of us have just been busy, you know?”

Mom nodded, smiling at me. “You girls were just busy finishin’ up school, and now that it’s summer you’ll start to act like yourselves.”

It was Aunt Nan’s turn to roll her eyes as she set down her needle and thread. “You and I both know that’s not what’s up. The girls are getting older. They all have new interests, new friends.”

Mom laughed airily, shaking her head at her older sister. “You’re just too uptight, Nancy.”

Mom turned to me before Aunt Nan had a chance to retort. “You guys are growing up, but you are not tearing apart. You were simply busy with school, and now that it’s summer I’m sure I’ll be seein’ less of you ‘cause y’all will be gallivanting to God-only-knows where.”

Aunt Nan interrupted mom’s speech, “speaking of gallivanting, you girls really shouldn't act like you’re so independent. There are pedophiles out there, you know.”

I ignored her, awaiting for the last of mom’s speech. She sighed contentedly, continuing. “You’re fifteen, sweetie, being fifteen means living the great life. This’ll be the best summer of you girls’ lives, I promise you that. Wanna know why? ‘Cause y’all are fifteen now, and being fifteen means you’re teetering off the age of a mere teenager and becoming a real teenager. You’re on the verge of being sixteen, and that means being fifteen is the best time you’ll ever experience in your life.”

Something told me not to believe my mom, and to maybe even take Aunt Nan’s side, but I hadn’t, because I didn’t want us to be going our separate ways. So, I’d let mom’s words sink in. I’d absorbed them like a sponge and allowed my brain to believe her words. ‘Cause we were fifteen and being fifteen meant having the time of your life, right?

So, I nodded my head, turning away from my mom and squinting back up at the sun. Aunt Nan had completely ignored her stitching, telling mom that fifteen was probably the worst age a girl could encounter. I ignored her words, knowing - somewhere in the back of my mind - that I probably shouldn’t have.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, allowing the sun to burn my retinas. “Being fifteen is great.”