In the south land there's a city / way down on the river...

New Orleans called the other day.
It wasn't necessarily a certain part of the city, although walks down Magazine and French Quarter music at sunset had crossed my mind. I missed snoballs and jambalaya and Parkways' po' boys, but food didn't make the call.
This call came in the form of a "but I am four-years old now, Miss Wooldridge" kid. I was reading on my bed in Kirkwood when my phone rang, I smiled at my caller ID and answered to a student from last year who literally never did one thing wrong. He is, in my eyes, perfect, and I would pay money to have him again this upcoming fall.
We chatted about normal things--Chuck E Cheese got a new game, but you can only play it if you are the birthday kid. Summer was OK but he "wants to go back to school." Writing his name is "easy" but "you might thing my brain got bigger." We should probably go to the park together as long as Mom or Dad could go, and he double-checked with his dad to tell me his brother was at work. He might get to watch a Transformers movie later.
"I miss you!" I said, beaming that we had gotten to talk. "I will have the baby three-year olds in my class next year. You will have to show them how to walk in line!" This was hilarious, and he "can't believe that."
"Well," he said, sounding quite mature after I had emphasized, "I miss you!"
"You know where I can be?" he asked, accent and all.
"Where?"
"In your heart. Forever."
I don't remember how I responded.
I hadn't thought I was ready to leave St. Louis and summer until that phone call. I cried. My mom cried. I was being pulled. It was time.
So I hopped into the car with someone who makes me smile and headed south, leaving behind a trail of sleeping in, sister hang-outs, Cardinal games, road trips north, catching fireflies with a new kitten, one too many Tropical Moose snocones and all that summers have come to be. Ten hours, one sweet tea and some thermometer-exploding heat later, we came across a skyline with a dome and a city with a mending heart.
That skyline made me pray: praise and help, idealism and reality, love and fear.
I moved into a new house -- one of those I can only describe as simply being "New Orleans-ish," and that is a dream fulfilled. There were beignet and brass band and glasses-fogging-humidity welcomes. I went to appropriately-timed garage sales (that start at 9 and 10 a.m. as opposed to STL's 6 a.m.-and-you've-missed-the-deals kinds of things) and embraced friends I could celebrate one-year anniversaries with, although it feels like longer. There is an excitement in the air--a pretty cool feeling of semi-knowing the city and having friends and, to put simply, it NOT being last year. But it's also a place that still screams adventure and watch-your-step. That's a pretty good combo to have. If summer has to end, I'll just be thankful for a start in this city and for voices on the other end of the wire to give updates on Chuck E Cheese and where your heart is.