In a family where the women were strong with The Sight, Cassie was a child of destiny. While in the womb she was visited by the strongest of the old women who would place their hands on her mother's distended stomach and wait for movement. There was always shock, always awe. To a woman, they proclaimed that this child would be the most accurate seer the family had ever produced.
She was treated like a princess from the moment she was born.
Cassie didn't understand why her young cousins would ignore her, pinch her, or isolate her as a child. She didn't understand why her aunts and other women visiting would smile evilly when her mother wasn't looking, and they saw no evidence of greatness. Through no fault of her own, she was a celebrity without cause and that brought petty jealousy.
No one cared that Cassie was a cute little girl with a surprising resemblance to Dora the Explorer. No one cared that she didn't know what was expected of her. No one cared that she was smart, kind and talented. Cassie was this generation's daughter, all the signs said so. She had a mantle to assume and this rude child was ignoring the portents with her stubborn averageness.
Her mother loved her, but always seemed worried. Her grandmother was stern and cold, and Cassie's grandfather ignored her. She found refuge in her cats and her beloved father. Everyone was afraid of Grand-mere except Daddy. He was big and he was strong, and he would rage and rage, but never against Cassie. He would yell about bruja and Grand-mere would seem confused and upset and stay away for weeks at a time. He didn't act as men should act around her and it shook everyone to their core.
Daddy called her Princess and told her she was perfect as she was.
Cassie's mother would come to her at night and hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Some old customs said that a child wasn't fully part of the family until their fifth birthday, when they were sure the child would survive. Mother assured her that her fifth birthday would mark her time. That was when everyone would see.
No one saw. It was her fifth birthday and there were smirks from ladies with too much make-up, there were consultations with the important old women, there was some crying from Mother. Daddy had a man bring a pony and Cassie was happy.
Peter Santorini was different. A friendly boy, he sat next to Cassie on the first day of school and he just turned to her and started talking about Dog, his turtle. He had allergies and couldn't have a dog, but he could have a turtle. He assured her that Dog was a very smart turtle and knew Stay and Sit and Stay For A While. Cassie didn't know what to make of Peter. He didn't exclude her and didn't expect anything of her.
Cassie did know that she liked his hair. It was blonde, like some people on TV. Peter was different and she was fascinated. She took out her eraser and put it on his desk when he wasn't looking.
"Okay, everyone. I'm Mrs. O'Malley. Welcome to first grade! In a minute I'm going to call everyone's name and I want you to raise your hand really high when you hear yours, but first, let's go over what you should have brought with you today. Ms. Gould will help you find your cubbies and we'll put everything away. Raise your hand if you have your backpack."
Mrs. O'Malley saw all the hands raised.
"Wonderful! Raise your hand if you have four pencils."
All the hands raised again.
"Excellent. Does everyone have their eraser?"
Cassie's hand stayed down, and Peter searched his backpack frantically. Ms. Gould came over to Cassie and helped her check. No eraser. "That's okay, sweetheart. We'll send a note home to your mom. We have an extra for you for today."
Turning, Ms. Gould ruffled Peter's pretty yellow hair. "It's right here, silly."
He looked down at the eraser with the imprint of the dinosaur and seemed confused but happy. Cassie smiled.
*****
"How do you feel, Cassie?"
Her mother had been asking her that at least once a week since she turned ten.
"Okay."
"No... stomach-ache or anything?"
"I'm fine."
"Good, good. That's... good. Most girls, well, you're 12 now, you're not a little girl. Your Grand-mere believes that when you're a woman is when... well, lots of changes, lots of changes. They'll see."
"Can you ask Dad to get Hawaiian?"
"Hawaiian what, dear?"
"Pizza."
"With the pineapple and ham? That's disgusting. And we're having chicken for dinner."
"It's not gross. Peter says..."
"Enough about Peter. That boy isn't one of us. And we're having chicken."
Cassie heard her mother on the phone later. "Yeah, smelled like sulfur and the edges were grey. I'll return it tomorrow." Pause. "Disgusting." Pause. "Can you pick up Chinese?" Pause. "Okay, love you."
Her father came home from work with a large pie and garlic knots.
*****
It was hard to believe, but Cassie's Grand-mere grew more distant as she aged. Nothing helped. Cassie sang in the school chorus and stood scanning the audience. Her peers had their siblings, parents, grandparents and aunts and uncles. Cassie had Dad and sometimes Mom. She'd grow sad but try to smile for Dad. The smile would turn real when she spotted the boy with the yellowish hair. He'd be sitting in the corner, often on the floor with his books out. Peter would look up and smile shyly when he noticed her looking his way.
She knew that other people's grandparents would hang report cards or papers or artwork from their refrigerator. Cassie loved to paint but gave up sharing her work with Grand-mere when she overheard her yelling at Cassie's mother about how she was receiving trinkets when she should be training her granddaughter's Gift.
Her cousins didn't care much about grades, but they loved football. Three of them played on the school team. Family trips were made to games with dozens of people showing up, including Grand-mere. Cassie joined the softball team. Her father cheered her on and her mother sometimes came and brought snacks. Looking at the bleachers, she would wonder where the rest of her family was. Across the diamond, the boys were on the baseball field. She'd catch glimpses of his bright blonde hair as Pete would beat out a throw to first.
They sat next to each other, backs against the dugout fence. Tryouts were coming up. Cassie reached into his plastic Ziplock and pulled out some gorp. "You should try batting lefty."
"I can barely get the ball out of the infield righty."
"That's why you should try lefty. It makes you more valuable."
"Yeah, I don't know. I think I should concentrate on my swing and getting some pop."
