My Christmas Eve Adventure, Part I

I wrote this particular narrative two years ago, based on a childhood escapade. I'll give it to you in sections, over the next few days. Enjoy.
I was ten years old the year I ran away on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t that circumstances were so bad at home. I just felt the need for An Adventure of Great Magnitude. I led such an ordinary life for a fifth grader, I believed. No passion, no excitement! Just plain ordinariness. I wallowed in its monotony. I was a youthful romantic dreamer. I lived inside my head, imagining myself as the heroine of my melodramatic daydreams. It was time for my own real one.

I had been planning my adventure for months. It had become a near obsession. I had a little pink notebook into which I wrote every detail of my plan. I shared my scheme with only one other person: My best friend, Kerry. Together we plotted it out on the cold December playground. We dominated the top of the squiggly slide and considered all possibilities.

Where should I go? Someplace warm and tropical? No. My bathing suits were all stored away for the winter in some mysterious place in the house, and I didn’t want to ask my mother for them. That would arouse suspicion. Europe? Exciting, yes, but way too complicated. I’d have to stowaway on a plane. And that would possibly end in prison time. So that, to our juvenile brains, left Chicago. Living in Palatine, Chicago was in close enough proximity to get there by train, yet still far enough away to be exciting and glamorous.

Where was my favorite place in Chicago? That was easy. It was Marshall Fields on State Street, specifically at Christmas time, when the gargantuan tree was set up in the Walnut Room. I had absolutely loved that particular Christmas tree from the time I was a very little girl! My family made an annual visit to the Walnut Room to eat under the tree and admire the lavish decorations for that year’s theme.

Kerry and I conspired. The Great Runaway would occur on Christmas Eve. I would take the train downtown to Chicago, then walk across the loop to State Street and Marshall Fields. When it was near closing time, I would hide in the stall of the Ladies Room until the store was closed for the evening, and then have the entire place to myself! The tree…..the toys…...the animated windows……the makeup department……it would all be MINE MINE MINE! For one evening, I would essentially own the store! I would be like Eloise at the Plaza Hotel! I believed with all my being that my plan was possible. Not only possible, but entirely doable to an adventurous-sort of 10-year-old like me.

I concluded that I would spend the night on one of the beds that I’d seen in the Furniture Department. I’d wake up early on Christmas morning, then make my way back to the train station, board the next train to Palatine, call my parents from the station, and be home by breakfast. I expected that my parents might be a bit angry, but I reasoned that they would ultimately be SO grateful to have their only daughter back home safely, they’d welcome me with open arms and loads of presents. Then we’d talk about my adventure over eggnog in front of the fireplace. And they’d be amazed at my ingenuity and independence! Perhaps even more privileges would ensue! And my brothers would be so envious. I would definitely become the favored child.

My backup plan: If my parents were too angry to ever forgive me, I would just go and live with Kerry. She was the youngest of nine children, and her parents would barely notice one more child in their household, we decided. I didn’t eat much or take up too much space. Besides, I’d always wanted a sister.