The Sky’s the Limit: My Journey with Maryellen

Maryellen and I work long and hard on her presentation. There’s no internet in 1955, so we have to use a big set of books called the World Book Encyclopedia to look up the facts we need. Maryellen’s sketching skills comes in handy, since part of the presentation will be visual. She practices presenting her report to me over and over again until it’s perfect. And by the time we climb into bed, Beverly and Carolyn are already asleep in their bunks.

The next morning, Maryellen and I are both so excited about going to school that we can hardly eat breakfast. Well, I do eat six pieces of bacon. It’s so delicious!

Carolyn suggests that I take her bike to school if I want. She won’t need it. There’s a sock hop in the gym after school, so she’s getting a ride. I thank her. But when Maryellen and I go outside to go to school, she walks right past the bikes in the carport. I ask her if we’re going to ride, and she hesitates before saying okay. She slings her book bag with materials over her shoulder and wheels Carolyn’s bike out to me. Then she sighs, and she hesitates for a moment. Before I can ask her what’s wrong, she climbs onto a sleek, black bike and off we go.

It gives me a great feeling of independence to ride a bike to school. What a great way to start the day. I smell the morning breeze mixed with salt, and feel the morning sunshine in my face. I’m a little nervous about riding without a helmet, but the bike is a million times nicer than being crammed into the noisy, smelly bus that I typically ride home. When Maryellen and I get to the schoolyard, I notice the kids are running around and playing outdoor games. They’re using jump ropes, playing hopscotch, or zooming around playing tag.

And then, a loud boy in a beanie cap with a propeller on top calls out to Maryellen. He asks if Maryellen knows that she’s riding a boy’s bike. There’s a bar in the middle. What is she doing riding that? Maryellen blushes and tells him to cut it out. This is the “terrible boy” that Beverly mentioned, Wayne. I can tell his teasing embarrasses Maryellen. And now I know why she was reluctant to ride bikes this morning. Maryellen stands firm and says that she will get a girl’s bike, as soon as she saves enough money. Wayne goes on and tells Maryellen to ditch the boy’s bike. Girls can’t ride boys’ bikes.

I speak up and tell Wayne that girls ride boys’ bikes, where I come from. It’s not like me to speak up, but I can’t stand anybody picking on Maryellen. A girl in a poodle skirt comes over and says not to pay attention to Wayne the Pain. Another girl comes up and agrees. Finally, a girl with long, dark braids, turns to Wayne and tells him to go away. Maryellen introduces me to her friends. Feeling a little shy, I tell them it’s good to meet them. But they seem really friendly. Their names are Karen Stohlman, Karen King, and Angela. Angela says that she was new at the beginning of last year, so she knows that it’s confusing at first.

Karen Stohlman asks if Ellie asked a million questions when I first got here. I grin and nod. Maryellen did ask me a lot of questions. Karen King laughs and says Ellie is always curious. Maryellen nods frantically and says right now, she’s curious about outer space because that’s where she’d like to send Wayne. She’s so tired of him teasing her about the bike. She turns to me and says that her friend, Davy, gave it to her when he outgrew it. She’d love a new bike, but bikes are expensive, so she has to ride Davy’s old bike until she earns enough money to buy a girl’s bike for herself. And when she does, she’s going to wrap this one around Wayne. I joke around that then he could spin the propeller on his beanie and take off.

We all laugh together, and I feel right at home. Any shyness I felt at first has melted away. I realized I don’t have a lot of experience making friends because I’ve never had to. Emma and I have always been such an exclusive duo, a two-girl team. Maybe I could try to make new friends when I return to my own time.

Inside the school, Maryellen introduces me to her homeroom teacher, Mr. Garcia. He says that I can be a classroom visitor today, and then my registration can be sorted out after Thanksgiving break. The whole class stands, and we recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Then, Mr. Garcia sits at a piano and we all sing “The Star-Spangled Banner”. After that, he asks who will be giving the first presentation. Maryellen looks at me nervously, but I smile and nod to her, so she raises her hand and asks if she may go first.

Everyone whispers in giggles and surprise, as I turn off the classroom lights and pull down the window shades to make the room dark. Maryellen stands in the middle of the room, holding a flashlight under a piece of construction paper in which she has cut small, star-shaped holes. There, on the ceiling of the classroom, is the little dipper.

The whole class sighs with delight. Maryellen begins. She explains that one of the things she’s most grateful for in Daytona Beach is our big, beautiful night sky. Over the ocean, on a clear night, you can see a sky full of stars. This constellation is the Little Dipper. The big star at the end of the handle is the North Star. The North Star marks true north. In the olden days, travelers used it to find their direction. Maryellen switches the papers over the flashlight. This one is the Big Dipper. She talks about the Big Dipper for a while, before switching to another piece of paper and talks about Pegasus. When she’s finished the presentation, Mr. Garcia turns on the lights and everyone claps.

Mr. Garcia says that Maryellen did an excellent job. People have been fascinated about the night sky for centuries. Maybe someday we’ll be able to travel to outer space, or even to the moon. Wayne pipes up that that’s impossible. I smile. At home, I’m quiet in the classroom, but now I can’t resist telling Wayne that he’s wrong. In fact, I bet scientists will put men on the moon in less than fifteen years. I’ll have to remind myself to tell Maryellen that she might want to be at Cape Canaveral, which is only a little away from Daytona Beach, on July 16, 1969, to see the historic launch of Apollo 11.

Wayne scoffs. Well perhaps men will walk on the moon, but no girl ever will. I told him that he’s wrong about that, too. I think of astronaut Sally Ride, who went to space in 1983. As we take our seats, I whisper back to Maryellen that she has beaten her fear of public speaking. Maryellen says it was easy. Of course, it helped that everyone was looking up, not at her.

Later, Maryellen and I are walking home from school. For a while, the two Karens and Angela walk with us. Karen King compliments Maryellen’s presentation. She said she fell asleep during Wayne’s presentation about the car races. Whatever he went vroom, she went snore.

I tell Angela that I liked her report about Mary McLeod Bethune. I wrote a report about her last February for Black History Month. It’s cool that she lived in Daytona Beach and that the college for girls that she started is still here. Angela says she died this past May. She didn’t get to meet her, but she interviewed some people who did know her.

Maryellen tells Karen Stohlman that she liked her report about Jackie Robinson. Maryellen knew that he and the Dodgers won the World Series this year, but she didn’t know he used to come to Daytona Beach for spring training. Maryellen turns to me and grins. Maybe Daytona Beach isn’t so dull after all. She’s still curious about places that she’s never been to, but now she knows that her hometown is worth exploring. It has interesting people in it, too.

I wonder if I’ve overlooked interesting people in my hometown, and my home, too. I’ve just sort of assumed that my grandmother isn’t very interesting because she’s gray-haired and quiet and the dusty stuff she brought in with her books looks ancient and weird. But my mom says Gran used to be an archaeology professor, and she’s highly respected in her field. The ancient, weird things are actually rare artifacts that Gran found herself on digs all over the country. Now Gran and Daria’s mother are organizing the things to donate to a museum. Maybe Gran has some fascinating stories to tell. Perhaps I jumped to a conclusion about her, like the way people jumped to a conclusion about me in the ski race. Maryellen says she hates when people assume she’s fragile because she had polio. Perhaps I’ve been making wrong assumptions, too.

The two Karens and Angela split off in different directions to head home, so we say goodbye to them and continue on our way to the Larkins’ house. But with every step, I find myself asking if I should go home now and get to know my grandmother.