Take off your hat, I want to stand up.

Chapter 3: Life is like that sometimes.

Chapter three. Life is like that sometimes.

We would play in the dirt and fight over a stick.  

Our parents were not clever garden people, they were more the let it grow if it looks good keep it, if not cut it down. Dad order three truck loads of dirt for the yard to start a new lawn. The piles were still there in the spring of the following year. We played in this dirt for two whole years, playing war, trucks, tunnels, sculpting the contours in a hundred different fashions, piling up the dirt and tearing it down, making castles and highways. As it happens we found out the dirt was really three piles of old cow manure from the local cattle farmer who sold good, rich dirt to the city people. Despite the idea we loved playing In it. The cow crap, was better than lego, no harm no foul.

Makes me smile when I think about it, parents come home from work, mom looks over lovingly, greeting her kids, playing in the big dirt hill. Today the children would be hustled inside, clothes in the laundry, bodies in the tub, they would be scrubbed until their skin glowed raw and shiny, different times, different sense of values.

We had no T.V., no real toys to speak of, sometimes we just had each other. We also had clever, wild imaginations and tools from nature. We had things such as; a stick for a sword, a stone for doing battle or our voices to whoop, whoop, shout, scream and yell. People viewing this active nature today would call the authorities, probably from their cell phones or post rude remarks over the Internet. To us, we had fun, real fun, fun we could repeat in a myriad of variations every day. When we went to bed we were tired. We slept well and got up with new adventures in mind. Maybe build a fort, play kick the can, go down to the creek to catch frogs, skip stones across the glassy water surface, five no six skips that must be a record, it was for me.

We knew to go home when the street lights came on, no body called, we just knew, everyone took their cues from natural forms. Such was the case if you were big, no body bothered or bullied you because, you were the bully. If you ran fast you could also have a fast mouth, until you were caught or trapped, then a body tended to do a little praying rather than mouthing off. There was a balance people respected with each other, we all got along just fine, we would play pick up games in the field. We accepted anyone who wanted to play or watch, it was a simple time but it made sense. We all looked after each other. If someone fell and scrapped an elbow, or bloodied a knee, the kids were interested and sympathetic. However, the injured party would be expected to continue on playing, in spite of the injury. The game never ended, darkness merely delayed the outcome until another day.

I recalled a time when both parents took leave of the house for an extended trip to Lake Tahoe. It was a business trip, but my mom wanted to go at the time. This left them with the problem of who was going to look after their children?

When mom and dad went on the business trip they secured a live in sitter. Not a baby sitter, we were not babies, just a normal sitter who happened to stay over. She was an older, steel grey-haired, elderly woman of an indeterminate age. She was bent with a permanent hook in her back. Her head would forcibly stand out at an odd angle to investigate her surroundings. Once the car had left the driveway and the good-bye waves were thrown into the air she changed into the righteous weaver of regret for children of all ages. Her dark dusty countenance made me think of running for cover. I needed to stay out of her reach and out of her way. She was mean, nasty and produced a hideous range of negative vibes. How could we survive? It would be impossible.

After one day with this lady I knew fear. It was early spring. It was wet, muddy and cool in the mornings. Mrs. Sitter would repeat, I'll scalp you a good one if I need to. She would add that she had thrashed lots of children that did not mind their elders. So to avoid getting thrashed at the door we tried to go before she got us. As we fled her parting remarks melted into my brain, go to school do not come home wet, stay out of the mud, now get. I shook my head and moaned, this is going to be very, very hard.

My boots were not on properly, in my haste to leave I had placed my right boot on my left foot, my left boot on my right foot. It actually felt pretty good so I did not change them. Besides I was instructed to get, which meant do not come back unless you happened to meet death or on the brink of dying. At age 7 my life was in serious jeopardy, how could I not get wet or dirty muddy in the springtime? It was so not possible, I shook it off and started for school, three blocks what could happen?

The alley offered untold adventure and excitement, I always opted for the alley, there was always good junk to see and neat stuff to do, the alley it would be. Except on this day the gutters had frozen over with a sheet of crystal clear ice. When you stepped on the ice it made water bubble move under each step of the rubber boot. The ice crackled and moaned, streaks of pressure fissures moved rapidly with each step.

What would happen if I pounded down hard, harder and now with both feet together jump up and down, the bubbles moved. The whole sheet flipped. I was astonished to no end, the whole sheet rotated, it did a one-eighty, I went down as fast as could be. I slid under the ice, soaked up to my chin, my clothes a ratty mess.

The spring run off water took the breathe out of my body it was so cold. As my fight or flight adrenaline kicked in my beating heart sounded heavy in my skinny chest. All I could think was the last word form the witch at the guarded door, do not get wet, do not get muddy or else. Or else what? Puzzled I got up pushed the sheet of indignation away, stretched and walked in bow legged fashion. I walked kind of like my hero John Wayne. Well little buddy you are in it now, thank you John Wayne, I know I am in it deep.

Wait I could just keep going to school it was not that bad, I took a step towards school, my boots were full to the very top with water, both boots. Also I discovered I had peed my pants as I hit the water. Disturbing news, I had to go back home. I put my head down and waddled back across the street. I came to the back door, it was locked. I had never, ever seen our door locked, what should I do? I went to the front door, it was locked, I knocked, waited, and knocked again, ran the door bell, I heard her coming, mumbling under her breathe, I waited for the inquisition to pronounce a hellfire and brimstone verdict.

I squinted when she opened the door, what do you want now? Get to school she pronounced. I fell in the water I announced. Then I presented my own self for execution, please make it quick I thought. Go to the back, I will let you in, take your boots off outside then she said some demeaning things about kids in general.

I changed, put back on my wet boots and ran to school just as the final bell rang for everyone to be In their seats. This was not my day, my boots had not dried out by recess so I just put them on any way and went out with Harvey, Keith, the Ross' and Gartley Scott. We all loved Gartley he was the best runner, so naturally we all wanted his talent on our scrub games at recess. Gartley did not say much, but he was a smiley face kid. Today we played in the field with an under inflated soccer ball it was like kicking a bee bee or a metal pole. But we scrambled after it like it was on fire. With Gartley well out in front and the rest of us trailing behind, as if we were streamers on the tail of a kite fluxing in the wind.

We all really went to school so we could play together at recess. Our time in school was just time that passed slowly. We were pacing time in seconds as the big black clock at the front of the room ticked, ticked, ticked. The bell would sound and we got ready to go home. I wish my mom was at home, I thought.