THE FIRECRACKER

When the child was a child, he stood with his mother on the slanted street outside the entrance to his building waiting for the bus that took him to day camp. The child had just turned four. It was the Fourth of July. The child had a firecracker of the old-fashioned kind. It was a stick. You put a little square of paper with a red circle in the middle down on the ground, and when you hit the little square of paper on its red dot, the firecracker went off. The child hit the little square with his stick and the firecracker went off. The child told his mother that he didn’t want to go to camp. He felt himself not smiling but also not being upset when he told his mother. He felt himself “not wanting” but this “not wanting” was not connected with an emotion.
“Why don’t you want to go to camp?”
“I just don’t.” The child hit another red dot with his stick and the firecracker didn’t go off.
“But the bus is coming. Here it comes. And Cousin Claire is going to camp too. She’s on the bus. She’s waiting for you. She wants to go with you.”
“I don’t want to go.” The child hit the red dot with his stick and the firecracker went off.
The bus came. He saw Cousin Claire. She was talking to the girl next to her. The child couldn’t tell from looking at her that she wanted him to go with her. He got on the bus and the “not wanting” to go to camp went away.

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About judyjablow123

In my youth I was a world class tournament golfer. I earned an MA in history at NYU, after which I knew I had had enough of academia. I have remained a student of history. I have a strongly personal - almost entirely negative- take on the contemporary pharmaceutical and mental health industries. That was the impetus for my Bluepolar blog, which will also include stuff on sports, history and anything else that strikes my interest.
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