I had to finish what my 5th grade self had been yelling out to me subconsciously for 30 something years. Anyway) I saw Singularity sitting, dusty on the shelf and having just finished a book, I knew what I had to do. (Side note: Thankfully we already own all the HP books and I don’t have to make the moral decision to financially support that woman’s horrific viewpoints or make my kid stop at book 6. Until yesterday when I was putting my kid’s Harry Potter book back on his bookshelf. The description of Singularity sounded vaguely like the book I was remembering, but like, vaguely? I didn’t remember a toothy eel or whatever those Saved by the Bell looking boys were trying to make me look at, but there was a lot about this thing I couldn’t remember, so I bought it on the off chance I could close that chapter and move on. The only other brief fleeting feeling I had was that the cover was blue and someone with a badly drawn face was naked, which didn’t make a lot of sense to be on the cover of a book I was reading in my 5th grade classroom, 4th desk from the front, 2nd row in on the right. For one thing, I didn’t recognize the title. And then a friend named Nissa, who I imagine has read every book ever written by this point goes, “Is it Singularity by William Sleator?” I was about to give up and declare myself the new author of a cool book I knew I had read but no one knew of. I had spent years looking it up, asking everyone I knew if they had ever heard of it and I ended up with no leads, no one that had ever read such a book, nothing. And it has perched itself on the edge of my brain like a dream that slips out of focus as soon as you realize you’re thinking about it. All I could remember was it was about twin brothers and one gets locked in a shed in the backyard of some house and when he comes out, he’s significantly older than his brother.
There has always been one specific book that settled itself so deep within my soul and yet, I couldn’t for the life of me remember the title or author or any detail google-able enough to light my path. I do not remember my 5th grade teacher, but, looking at the list of books we were reading, I do think she might’ve been going through some soul searching. I remember making the diorama for The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. I remember what seat I was sitting in when I read Where the Red Fern Grows. I remember exactly what seat I was sitting in when I read The Bridge to Terabithia. The books I read in 5th grade have stayed with me for a long time. 5th grade was a really important year for me, I’m learning.
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