I knew a boy named Guy
with sea blue eyes and long black eyelashes
He would pick buttercups for me.
"You like butter" he would say
as he held the flower under my chin.

He would hold my hand at recess
in first grade, while the other children laughed
"He's not right", they would say,
Because they couldn't speak Spanish.
"Te amo" he would say, and call me his "novia"
"¿Quieres casarte conmigo?" he would ask
"But we are too little", I would say
thinking he was silly.

He'd stand on the church steps
waiting for me
to run and play with him.
When it was raining, his sister would drive him
so he could be with me.
He would never leave
without a kiss.

At lunch time he would share
His fish sandwiches with me
And laugh as I tried them and winced
I would offer him my peanut butter and jelly
He declined because he liked his
"pescado bocadillo".

He invited me to his birthday party
Where everyone spoke differently.
They would laugh heartily as I tried
To speak Spanish.

Guy's father would show me his guns
He was obviously proud
He explained that guy would have one too
As soon as he was old enough.

"Guy is a bum" my Grandfather would say
Because he couldn't speak Spanish.
He would talk to my Grandmother
About why "we" let his family into the country
And let his parents run a grocery store
In a nice American town.
I didn't understand.

One day I came into school
to find an empty chair beside me.
The teacher never explained.
I always wondered what became of the boy
Who was supposed to teach me Spanish.
I thought he would never leave
without a kiss.

I remember the boy named Guy
With sea blue eyes and long black eyelashes.
He would pick buttercups for me.

Copyright © Carrie Batcheller, 2024, All rights reserved.