Mama had made her wear too many uncomfortable clothes, the laces too tight around her ribs and the skirts too heavy to lift with her legs. Mama had made her talk with so many unpleasant suitors of all different ages and sizes and all of them dull. Jocelyn dreamed of running up the hill again to see Charles and his little dog, to play in the tall trees on the slope in the glowing sun. This evening Mama said that a special suitor would come, a very handsome boy. As the light shone orange from the hill through the windows of Jocelyn’s sitting room, the front door opened and a young man walked in. 

—Oh, what a delight it was to finally meet him

Jocelyn heard her mother talking in the front room.

The young man walked through the doorway of the sitting room.

—Oh, Charles!

Jocelyn stared at her friend, his vest and cap replaced with sleek new ones, his light blue shirt tucked in, shiny shoes on feet that had never before been covered.

—Why was he here? How could he be here? Why wasn’t he on the hill?

—He’d earned his wages with his father

he spoke so formally. 

Jocelyn’s mother was so pleased, but Jocelyn didn’t even look at her mother to know. She just stared and stared and stared at the boy who lived on the hill. 

Jocelyn finally moved her head

—she could not marry this boy, would Mama please tell him to leave. 

—But Mama’s darling had not even spoken to him yet.

—Mama’s darling didn’t need to. Mama’s darling wanted him to leave!

—Mama’s darling was being unreasonable!

Jocelyn ran crying from the room, all her skirts trying to make her trip. She ran out through the elegant dining room, out the back veranda, over the pebbled path, to the garden rock and lifted it for a note. Only dirt.

A few moments later, the boy’s voice came from beyond the tall brick garden wall

—why wouldn’t she see him?

Jocelyn walked to the wall

—it wasn’t him; he lived on the hill, he was free and wild, he was not in nice clothes nor confining shoes nor walking inside this stuffy house.

—What could she mean? It was the only way he could win over her mother; didn’t she want to be with him forever?

Jocelyn was silent.

—Jocelyn! Didn’t she want to be with him forever? She had said so.

Jocelyn thought

—she loved the birds and the hill and the trees, and running and running, and being free.

—Jocelyn! She didn’t even know what freedom was! She didn’t know what living in the woods meant, how much work, how much hunger, how much Charles’ father had to give up to support their family, how much his father had to give up for this cap—

the cap flew over the wall

—for this vest—

the vest flew over the wall

—for these shoes—

“Oh, stop!”

“You don’t even think about me!” the boy cried. “All you care about is freedom. You don’t even know what freedom is! You don’t even know what you have.”

The shoes landed with a thud on the garden rock. Jocelyn turned around, crying, gathered up all of the new clothes, and took them into the house.