Cali Marshall

Yesterday, I hobbled down to the basement to fix our Internet connection and while waiting for the modem and router to sync up I noticed an old note with a phone number: Cali Marshal, XXX-XXXX. Cali Marshal, at first I couldn’t place the name; then it hit me and sadness overwhelmed me.

In the days when I owned an insurance agency I hired a couple of middle school girls to do filing and envelop stuffing. I don’t remember how she contacted me, through the Boys and Girls Club I think. Small, slight, blonde, pretty, and thirteen years old full of excitement and wonder. I met her first but a short time later she dragged in her friend, Elektra. Elektra was a round brunette and obviously more intellectual and sensitive than Cali, they made an odd couple but they were in middle school and the juxtaposition of personalities fit. I worked, the girls chit chatted while they filed, and their parents picked them up a 5 PM. We hummed along for a semester or so, summer came, and the girls moved on. They left middle school and they were growing up.

One day, a year or so later, I was reading the morning obituaries and recognized a familiar name, Cali Marshall, age fourteen, died in an automobile accident. I wrote a short note to her mother followed by a short phone call. A year or so later, I ran into Elektra and we commented about how sad the loss.

The last couple of years I’ve run into Elektra twice. She’s graduated from college, has a local job, and a boyfriend. Cali is no longer a topic but the remembrance will always remain..