A Walk into the Past

2023 Write Now Winner - Grades 9—12

“But mother! Veronica, Andrea, and Abby all have leather boots! And guess what: they all have boyfriends. You know we have the money, why can’t I just get the cool shoes?”

“Julia, you are being ridiculous,” her mother scowled. “When I was your age, people were happy with their flip-flops and tennis shoes. Imagine the poor girls in your class that don’t have either.”

Julia looked down at her new sneakers. 

“But those kids don’t have a future because they didn’t make the right connections in high school. Mr. Andersen said: It’s not what you know, it’s who you make an impression on.”

Her mother sighed, “Julia, go walk Schnitzel. We’ll talk about this more when you get back.”

Five minutes later, a very fat pug shuffled out the door with a very annoyed teenager behind him.

“Oh, Schnitzel,” Julia sighed. “Why can’t I be like you and not care what people think of me?”

Schnitzel gave a sympathetic whimper in response.

Julia spotted a shiny paperclip on the road beside her.

“I’m like this paperclip. I start shiny and beautiful like everyone else, and then as I get older, I am bent and stretched by everyone around me, until I get to a point where I’ve been changed so much that I am no longer recognizable.”

She reached down to pick up the paperclip.

“I think that we all need to realize this about ourselv-”

Suddenly, a low rumbling sound began around her. A thick fog rolled in, and everything started spinning. Schnitzel disappeared.

“What’s happening?” screamed Julia, but her words were ripped away from her as soon as they left her throat.

Soon enough, the fog cleared, and Julia was able to move without feeling nauseous. She seemed to be back on her street, but something was different.

Furniture was stacked outside many of the houses and her neighborhood looked decrepit and barren. Families huddled together among small fires and men walked around with: “Needs work” signs. 

“Where am I?” shivered Julia, “I don’t think this was here before. . .”

She walked over to a lady standing in front of some furniture,

“Excuse me, Ma’am. Where are we?”

The lady turned around and scowled at her, 

“I don’t have any food for you hooligans. Heaven knows I barely have enough for myself. The soup kitchen is on the corner of 38th and 39th street. Now run along.”

Frightened, Julia kept walking. She still had no idea where she was, but she now had a lead: the soup kitchen. It was on 38th and 39th Street; she was currently on 36th. Did she really want to go? The last time she had been at a soup kitchen was on a school volunteer trip during 6th grade. She had hoped to never set foot in one again. But if she wanted to get home, she had to take risks. So, she walked past looted businesses, abandoned buildings, and hungry people until she was in front of the 39th Street Food Pantry. She became nauseous almost as soon as she stepped inside the doors. 

This soup kitchen- in 1930’s Cincinnati- was significantly worse than the one she had visited (though in reality, they were the same place). A thick layer of scum lined the walls, and every open surface was covered by dust and debris. The workers struggled to keep up with the masses of hungry people that constantly grabbed at any crust of bread or any hunk of cheese they saw. Birds nested in the open rafters. Water dripped in through holes in the roof.

Suffice it to say, the 39th Street Food Pantry was not the place that Julia wanted to be. But she got behind the counter and hesitantly started dishing out food to the hundreds of people that came in. As it got closer to suppertime, children started coming in. And not just children- teenagers like herself. Even in the harsh cold, many of them only had on cotton dresses or thin shirts and pants. And shoes- the ones that had shoes had faded work boots- nothing even remotely stylish like the girls at Julia’s school. 

As she looked at them and numbly gave them their portions of food, Julia began to question herself: 

“How have I been living my life? Why do I care about what shoes I have if there are people in the world who don’t have any? If this was my reality, would I have the same things that these people have?”

As she considered this, the pigeons perched on the beams above her took flight. A feather from one landed in the bowl of soup Julia held in her hand. As she reached in to pluck it out, she looked at the girl she was serving. It took her a moment to recognize who it was, but she soon realized: it was herself. As she stood there in shock, she heard the rumbling again. Everything turned gray, and when she woke up, she didn’t recognize where she was. She heard beeping, everything was white, and she had a horrible headache. Her mom suddenly ran over. 

“She’s awake!” Her mother yelled. 

“What?” Julia said, confused. 

“Julia,” Her mother said in a concerned tone, “You were hit by a car while you were walking Schnitzel.” Her mother held up the paperclip. “The paramedics found you holding this.”

Julia didn’t know what to say, so she said the first thing that came to mind: “Can we volunteer at the food pantry on 39th Street?”