Chapter 4
What’s with me? I wonder.
It feels like I’ve landed here carried by the wind, just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.
The thought makes me laugh, and I am still giggling to myself when Arthur appears on the door of my room.
He grips the two sides of the door, a relaxed smile mirroring his open arms.
“Hi Iris,” he says, and I light up with happiness.
“Hi!” I exclaim.
Arthur is dad’s friend. I really like playing with him. Perhaps he’s my best friend here in Boulder.
“You seem happy,” he tells me, his smile broadening.
I shrug uncaringly, in an attempt to divert the subject. Talking about my feelings has always made me uneasy.
“You were giggling,” he says, ignoring my attempt.
“I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz,” I explain.
“I see,” Arthur nods, acting serious.
He might have understood me, but I am not completely sure about it.
“Do you ever feel like this?” I ask.
“Like Dorothy?” he laughs, and then, without waiting for my answer, he adds, “No, not really.”
“I mean like someone else, not like your own self,” I insist.
Now we’re both serious, and this time I know Arthur is not faking it.
“I guess I do,” he admits at last, letting his arms drop off the door.
I like it when Arthur talks to me as if I were a grown up.
I approach him and take his hand.
“Sometimes I wish I were a grown up,” I tell him, and as soon as I do an image flashes back to my mind.
“You liked me when I was a grown up,” I say, smiling at the confusion painted on Arthur’s face.