Yep, it's the family reunion.
I walk across my aunt's deck and look at the people who I don't recognize.
How much of a family reunion is it if I barely know anyone here? I think to myself. Now I realize that the older people who make up most of the family have every intention to tell me how cute I am in my jean shorts and with my hair in braids. They say how I've grown so much, and ask if I remember them, when clearly I don't, seeing as I am only five years old and this is the first time I've seen this person.
I gather around a group of my cousins about the same age as me. In a quest to find something to do, I suggest we have an adventure under the crawl space of the deck. We get on our hands and knees and scoot into the opening of the deck. The ground underneath it is riddled with dried leaves, and the space is tight and small like a rabbit's hole. We get to the end of the line and there, in the darkness, is the biggest spider I've ever seen, hanging on a cobweb. We turn around and crawl away quickly as if the spider is a deadly time bomb about to go off.
Mission accomplished. We successfully return from under the deck, back in the company of our relatives, who are apparently unaware of the adventure we just endured.
Based off the vignette: Chanclas by Sandra Cisneros.