Carpet

Mrs. Crook's 4th grade class lined up against the wall. We anxiously waited until we could file through into the Library. The librarian wasn't ready for us yet, so many students began to hang on the coat rack handles. Others sat down on the 30-year-old, brown and orange specked carpet. I chose to remain standing--I didn't want my bottom on that kind of surface. Mom, who went to JA Taylor Elementary School when it was brand new, said that even then the carpet seemed dirty. I cocked my head to the side and stared down. Hmm. It didn't look that dirty, it was just a really ugly color, like the dead mashed brown leaves of fall--or maybe leftover vegetable stew. "That's what they want you to think." Mom advised me one day. I now knew that the carpet really was disgusting, but once something looks dirtied and brown, any filth added to it just accumulates rather than making it look worse. My eyes narrowed in on the carpet, and I could almost see the 30-year-old dirt tracked in by my mother's 4th grade shoes. I eagerly joined the group of kids hanging on the coat racks, their feet leaning against the wall, and wondered if I should maybe wash my shoes when I got home.