Information

Ages
Legacy Name: Ages

The Nostalgic Feli
Owner: Laur

Age: 11 years, 3 months, 3 weeks

Born: December 26th, 2012

Adopted: 11 years, 3 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: December 26th, 2012

Statistics

• Level: 475
   
• Strength: 1,175
   
• Defense: 1,074
   
• Speed: 1,175
   
• Health: 1,332
   
• HP: 1,332/1,332
   
• Intelligence: 1,074
   
• Books Read: 1046
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Couture Designer

It would be good to give much thought, before
you try to find words for something so lost,
for those long childhood afternoons you knew
that vanished so completely --and why?

We're still reminded--: sometimes by a rain,
but we can no longer say what it means [...]

- Childhood, Rainer Maria Rilke

---

Ages was four and believed that her stuffed duck, the one she carried around with her everywhere, actually laid eggs on Easter.

Ages was eight and spent her days making forts in the woods.

Ages was ten and loved trips to the library and staying up late, reading by the light from the stairway.

Ages was twelve and discovered the wonder and mental challenge that existed in computer games.

But tonight, Ages was nine. Ages was nine, and it was the Fourth of July, and her small cul-de-sac of tight-knit neighbors was having a block party to watch the fireworks. The night smelled of hotdogs, warm pavement, and the still-dispersing smoke from the many sparklers and caps that had been enjoyed. When the sky began to darken and the fireflies came out, Ages, along with several others, chased the fireflies into jars in an attempt to see who could capture the most.

Less than ten minutes after the fireflies had ceased to be amusing, Ages found herself crouched behind a car in an intense game of Kick the Can. She couldn't have been more than twenty feet from the can, but "it" was right there. She couldn't move. She could hardly breath for fear that he would hear her and tag her.

The kids on her street were like this: there was her, four boys her age, her sister a year younger, and a girl her sister's age. There were younger children and older children too, but they didn't count. Ages felt she had to be as good as the boys. She had something to prove. That's why games like this took on an added importance in her mind.

"Got you!" she heard. She listened carefully. A small whine of protest hit the air, and Ages knew immediately that her sister had been tagged. If she was honest, she was surprised that her sister had lasted so long in the game. Her sister being tagged now meant that there was only herself and one boy left for "it" to tag.

She could feel "it" moving toward her. She pressed her back against the car and tried to make herself as tiny as she possibly could, holding her breath. As his dark figure walked past, she noticed he was fixated on a tree. Sure enough, another figure bolted from behind, wildly trying to zig-zag as he made his way toward the can. His eyes met hers as he ran. "It" was right behind him, and, right before the boy managed to reach the can, "it" hit him hard on the shoulder, making the boy tumble down. Ages could hear the fall. She peeked, carefully, around the side of the car. In the dark, she could see the boy on the ground stand up, lean over to "it" and whisper something in his ear, and then walk off to jail.

There was no doubt in Ages's mind what the boy had told "it". The boys were always happy to team-up against her, refusing to be beaten by a girl. Ages felt anger boil up from within her. She knew that she had to move, and she had to move now.

She quickly crept around the other side of the car. She listened. "It" was approaching from the side she had just left. With that knowledge, she got into a runner's position and waited. She turned her head to look behind her. When she saw "it" emerge from the other side of the car and begin to lunge toward her, she raced out toward the can. The small object glinted, just barely, in the new moonlight. She gave it a good, hard kick just as "it" tagged her. Even though kicking the can would mean they were free from jail, the boys all insisted that "it" had tagged her first. Outnumbered by boys four-to-three, "it" had won.

She wanted to cry. But at that moment, the fireworks started, and she forgot all about Kick the Can. The dazzling shapes and colors filled the air, and everyone became entranced with the annual beauty. No, Kick the Can didn't matter at all. She would deal with those boys another day. Tonight was a night of fireworks, fireflies, games, hotdogs, and laughter. It was the Fourth of July. It was summertime. It was wonderful.

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