Ella-Mae
by Claire Niederberger
When I was a year too old to play with baby dolls,
my friend and I filled up water balloons half-full so they wouldn't break,
drew faces on them
and cared for them like they were purebred dogs.
I named my Ella-Mae.
We would alternate taking our toys to each other's houses,
She would bring her mom's fabrics and fancy papers
and we would cut them and tape them into the shape of nests.
We took our half filled balloons to school every day even when time had worn pockets in the otherwise smooth flesh of the rubber skin.
I loved my balloon
and when my friend left
and school was out
I would tuck it into its paper nest
and tell it about how wonderful life is.
One day my friend came to school without her balloon.
And I said to her, "Where did it go?"
And she replied, "I threw it on the ground and watched the water spill everywhere."
And I said, "Really?"
And she said, "No, I just wanted to see what your face would be like. Do you actually care about that thing?"
That night I popped Ella-Mae.