Fear of Play for Keeps

It’s just for the program,
the teacher pleaded, and
it would be real cute, you
and Astrid. The boy shook
his head, set lips in a stubborn
line. The schoolroom gave him
no support, blackboards stared
blankly, the map offered no
route of escape, the big
dictionary just squatted on its
table with closed covers.
He couldn’t do it, he just
couldn’t do it. Oh, he could
sing the tune and liked the song
until he realized what the teacher
wanted. ‘‘Come now, won’t you
play house, won’t you play
house with me? You shall be
pappa, I will be mamma, won’t
you play house with me?’’
It made him sick to his stomach.
He didn’t mind Astrid, she was
all right for a girl . . .
What was play and what was real?
He couldn’t have Astrid
hanging around his neck
for the rest of his life.
He scraped his shoe. ‘‘No, ma’am,
I won’t do it. I don’t want
to play house.’’