The morning started like most others—Mama in the kitchen, humming softly as she made breakfast, and Papa already off to work. But today felt different. There was a buzz in the air, a feeling I couldn't quite place.

As I pushed my fork through my scrambled eggs, Mama set her coffee down and gave me a knowing look. "Emily, you know what's right around the corner, don't you?"

I paused mid-bite, then groaned. "School..."

Mama chuckled. "Don't sound so excited now."

"I just—" I started, but stopped. I didn't really know how to explain it. I liked learnin' and all, but school was different. There were other kids, and sometimes it felt like I didn't fit just right. I liked climbin' trees and catchin' frogs, and a lot of the girls at school liked pretty dresses and sittin' around talkin' about things I didn't care much for.

Mama must've noticed the look on my face. She reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. "You'll do just fine, sugar. You're smart as a whip, and you're kind. That's what matters."

I nodded, though I wasn't so sure. "We goin' to town for supplies?"

"That's the plan. We need notebooks, pencils, and you'll need some new shoes. You wore the soles clear through those old ones."

I glanced down at my bare feet under the table and smiled. "I like not wearin' shoes."

Mama laughed. "I know you do, but they won't let you run 'round the classroom barefoot."

We finished breakfast, and soon we were loading up in the truck, heading into town. The breeze from the open windows was warm, carrying the scent of pine and a hint of something sweet—maybe honeysuckle.

As we drove past the familiar houses and fields, I watched the trees blur by and thought about what this year at school might bring. Would it be better? Worse? I didn't know, but part of me hoped maybe I'd find someone a little like me—someone who liked swords and frogs and adventures.

I thought we were just going to the Dollar General, but Mama decided we'd head to Regency Square Mall in Jacksonville instead. When she mentioned it, I nearly dropped my fork.

"Jacksonville? Really? That's far, Mama."

"I know, sugar," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "But you need some decent shoes that'll last you all year, and the Dollar General just doesn't cut it for that. Plus, we can get all your school things in one go."

I didn't argue. A trip to the mall was special. It was bigger and busier than our little town, with bright lights, shiny floors, and stores full of things I didn't even know I wanted until I saw them.

We climbed into the truck, the seats warm from the sun. I liked the drive to Jacksonville. It was long, but the kind of long that made you feel like you were goin' somewhere important. Mama rolled down the windows, letting the warm breeze rush in as we pulled onto the highway.

For a while, we just listened to the hum of the tires and the crickets that seemed to be everywhere this time of year. But before long, I started talkin'. I always did.

"Mama, do you think I'll have the same teacher this year?"

"I don't know, baby. You liked Miss Parker, didn't you?"

I nodded. "She was nice. She let me read the chapter books even though the other kids weren't readin' them yet."

Mama smiled. "That's because you're a smart girl. You always have been. But school's more than just books. You makin' any new friends this year?"

I shrugged, kickin' my feet up on the dashboard until Mama gave me a look, and I quickly put 'em back down. "I don't know. The girls... they don't really like playin' what I like. They wanna talk about hair and wear dresses. I tried, Mama, but I don't really like all that."

Mama glanced over at me, her eyes soft. "Ain't nothin' wrong with that, Emily. You're you. And any friend worth havin' will like you just the way you are."

I fiddled with the hem of my shorts, lettin' her words settle in. "You think Papa would build me a treehouse?"

Mama laughed. "You're still on that, huh?"

"I was thinkin' maybe it could have a rope ladder... and a place to hide if I wanted to read. Like a fort."

"Well, you talk to your Papa about it when we get home. He might make you work for it, though."

"That's okay. I'd work real hard."

We passed through the outskirts of Folkston, and I perked up as we neared the railroad tracks. We slowed down at the crossing, and I craned my neck, hopin' to catch sight of a train.

"You see anything?" Mama asked, already knowin' what I was doin'.

"Not yet..." I leaned forward, eyes squinting against the sun. Then, like it was waitin' just for me, I heard the distant rumble and the low horn. "There it is!" I pointed, practically bouncin' in my seat.

The Folkston Funnel was famous 'round here. Trains from all over passed through, headin' down to Florida or up the coast. They didn't stop in Folkston, but folks still came to watch them. Sometimes, people even brought lawn chairs and cameras, sittin' by the tracks like it was a baseball game.

"That one's movin' fast," Mama said as we watched the long line of freight cars roll past. "Headin' south, I bet."

"Where do you think it's goin'?" I asked, eyes wide as the train sped through.

"Could be Jacksonville. Could be Miami. Maybe even all the way down to Key West."

I let out a low whistle. "That's far."

"Sure is. That's the thing about trains, baby—they're always goin' somewhere."

I thought about that as we drove on, the train disappearin' into the distance. Sometimes, I wished I could hop on one of those trains and see where it went. Maybe it'd take me somewhere with pirates or cowboys—or a place where I could build a treehouse so high up it touched the sky.

The rest of the drive was quieter, but it felt good—just me and Mama, the windows down, the warm Georgia breeze tangled in our hair. Jacksonville Mall wasn't far now. Soon, we'd be walking through those big glass doors, pickin' out notebooks, pencils, and maybe—just maybe—some shoes that didn't pinch my toes.

But for now, I was happy right where I was.

The drive to Jacksonville felt like it took forever, but when we finally pulled into the parking lot of Regency Square Mall, I perked up. The place was big—way bigger than anywhere back home in Folkston.

But what caught my eye right away was the AMC Theatres across the parking lot, its bright sign standing tall above the cars. A huge movie poster hung on the side of the building, showing a spaceship zippin' through the stars with a group of cartoon characters aboard.

Disney Pixar's The Enchanted Galaxy.

I pressed my face to the window before Mama even parked. "Mama, look! That's the new movie I was talkin' about. Can we see it sometime? Please?"

Mama glanced over, smiling as she shifted the truck into park. "We'll see, sugar. Maybe we can come back with Papa one weekend."

I sat back with a sigh, but my eyes stayed on that poster. It looked like the kind of movie that would make you wanna run outside and pretend you were explorin' planets as soon as it was over.

Once we got inside the mall, the cool air hit me, and I felt a little better about not seein' the movie—at least for now. Mama led me straight toward Jimmy Jazz, one of the shoe stores she liked. It was loud inside, with music thumpin' through the speakers and racks of sneakers that seemed to go on forever.

Rows of bright, clean shoes lined the walls—reds, blues, yellows, ones with stripes, and some with shiny silver designs. I wandered over to a shelf with sneakers that had little splashes of purple and orange. They looked fast, like the kind you'd wear if you needed to race through the woods and leap over stumps like a deer.

Mama was already chattin' with a saleslady. "We're lookin' for something sturdy. She's rough on her shoes."

The lady laughed. "We got just the thing."

A few minutes later, I was tryin' on a pair of white sneakers with blue and green on the sides. I walked back and forth a few times, even jogged a little when Mama wasn't lookin'.

"These feel good," I said, grinnin'. "Real good."

Mama nodded, satisfied. "That'll last you through the school year—if you don't go climbin' too many trees in 'em."

I made no promises.

As we paid, I snuck another glance toward the glass doors of the mall, where the AMC sign was still visible through the windows. I wondered if anyone was sittin' in those theater seats right now, watchin' the spaceship blast off into the galaxy.

After we left Jimmy Jazz, Mama led me toward the part of the mall where they sold school supplies. We passed a few clothing stores, and I stared up at a big sign with models wearing fancy jeans and jackets that didn't look the least bit comfortable.

Mama noticed me eyein' it and smirked. "Don't worry, we're not buyin' you any of those."

"Good," I said. "They look like they'd be hard to climb trees in."

We made our way into a store that had shelves stacked high with notebooks, pens, crayons, and all kinds of things. The smell of new paper and plastic filled the air, and the floors were so shiny I could see my reflection when I looked down.

Mama pulled out her list. "Alright, we need some notebooks, pencils, a couple folders... and—Emily, stop playin' with the rulers."

I had been tappin' a plastic ruler against my hand like it was a sword.

"Sorry," I mumbled, putting it back.

As we worked our way through the aisles, I helped pick out a notebook with blue swirls on the cover and a pencil box with little frogs printed on it. Mama let me pick some crayons even though I was old enough for colored pencils now. I still liked crayons. They felt simple, and they smelled nice.

When we finished up, we stepped back into the main part of the mall, and that's when I noticed it—a big sign, way taller than me, with bold letters:

IMPACT CHURCH.

The doors were glass, but I couldn't see much inside. The windows were tinted, and everything about it just seemed... bigger than I expected. Bigger than our little white church back home. It looked important, like the kind of place you had to dress real nice to walk into.

I tugged on Mama's hand. "Mama... why is there a church in the mall?"

Mama glanced over. "Oh, that's Impact Church. It's a big one. Some churches don't look like ours. They don't all have steeples or sit out in the country. Some are right in places like this."

"In a mall?" I wrinkled my nose. "That's kinda weird, ain't it?"

Mama smiled. "It might seem that way, but it's still church. Doesn't matter what the buildin' looks like. Long as folks are there together, praisin' the Lord, that's what counts."

I thought about that as we started walkin' again. I peeked back at the doors, still wonderin' what it looked like inside. It was kinda funny—right there next to a shoe store and across from a place sellin' phone cases, there was a whole church.

Maybe it wasn't so different, though. Maybe church could be anywhere, as long as you had the right people with you.

I slipped my hand into Mama's as we walked toward the food court, my new shoes swingin' in the bag by my side, and my mind still wonderin' about all the different ways folks found their way to God.

After we finished getting my school supplies, Mama checked her watch.

"Well, we've got a little time. Anything else you want to look at before we go?" she asked.

I thought for a second. "Can we go to the toy store? Just to look?"

Mama raised an eyebrow, but she was smiling. "Alright, but just lookin'. We've spent enough today."

I grinned and followed her through the mall. We ended up in a store filled with shelves stacked high with toys—board games, action figures, dolls, and those little animal figurines I liked collectin'. I wandered down the aisles, pickin' things up, pushin' buttons that made noises, and dreamin' about all the cool stuff I'd buy if I ever had a million dollars.

I lingered by a display of plastic dinosaurs, runnin' my fingers over a bright red T-Rex with its mouth wide open. I pretended it was stompin' through our backyard, chasin' Ruby and the other chickens around while I fought it off with my stick-sword.

Mama let me wander for a bit before callin', "Alright, Emily, time to head out."

I sighed, puttin' the T-Rex back. "Okay, Mama."

On our way toward the exit, my stomach let out a loud growl. Mama heard it, and we both laughed.

"I guess all that shoppin' worked up an appetite," she said. "How about we get a bite before we head home?"

"Can we get fries?" I asked, my eyes lightin' up.

"I reckon we can manage that," Mama said with a wink.

We drove down the road and pulled into a Burger King. The smell of fries and burgers hit me the second we stepped inside. I ordered a kid's meal with nuggets and got one of those little plastic toys inside. It was some kind of robot that looked like it transformed into a car, though I couldn't quite figure it out.

Mama got a burger, and we sat by the window, watchin' cars pass by while we ate. I dipped my fries in ketchup, takin' my time because fast food was a rare treat.

"You excited for school now that you got all your stuff?" Mama asked between bites.

I shrugged. "A little. I just hope this year's better than last."

Mama reached over and squeezed my hand. "I think it will be. And even if it's not, you'll get through it. You're strong."

That made me smile. "Thanks, Mama."

After we finished, we got back in the truck and started the drive home. The sun was lower in the sky now, hangin' just above the trees, and the road stretched out long and straight in front of us.

As we passed by Walmart, I sat up a little.

"Mama... why didn't we just go there for everything?" I asked. "They got shoes and school stuff too."

Mama laughed softly, keepin' her eyes on the road. "Oh, I know, but I like goin' to the mall sometimes. Feels nice, like a little adventure. Plus, that mall has more choices for shoes. And we got to spend some time together."

I thought about it, then nodded. "Yeah... I guess I like it better too."

"Good," Mama said. "Besides, if we went to Walmart, we'd probably still be in there, tryin' to get out."

We both laughed because it was true. Walmart was big, and sometimes it felt like you could get lost in there.

The drive home was peaceful. We passed the train tracks again, but no train this time. The sky turned pink and purple, and the trees along the highway cast long shadows over the road.

I leaned my head against the window, watchin' the trees blur by. My belly was full, my feet had new shoes, and my backpack was gonna be packed with fresh supplies for school.

It had been a good day.