Summers Past
What a wonderful eternity summer break appeared to be from the Memorial Day side of June: it would for sure last at least a thousand mostly-sunny days with a new adventure for each one.
It began the morning school let out, with a parade of bikes from the grade school yard (a quick trip home to change into our sloppiest, most comfortable clothes and back) across town over the rickety Sixth Street bridge to Riverside Park. From there it just a small dare to the edge of town.
Not rushing to beat the 8:00 morning bell was luxury enough, though I woke up at the same time as a school day. Breakfast and checking off the sometime creative list of chores the folks made up for the day, and I was off. Maybe to the library, bringing back books on sharks and deep sea diving, rock collecting and bird watching, and “How to Collect and Preserve Insects”(Mom’s favorite!) Or to explore the woods that were near the house back then, before the expressway took them away. Every path and every clearing had a name (e.g. “The Devil’s Soupbowl.”) One summer, the Moss boys purposely got me lost in there. One time I dented some guy’s fancy car with a stone from a slingshot; I ran and ran (sometimes in my nightmares I’m still running.) One time I killed a squirrel. Icried and cried, and, to this day, I’m not entirely sure I’ve been forgiven.
Sometimes I would lay on my back in the yard, and look up at the endless parade of shapes of clouds and an occasional propeller plane (a family outing was to drive out to the airport and watch a plane or two take off or land, and then a stop off for some ice cream.) On rainy days, I would build a laboratory or church or space station in the basement until it was time for old movies on afternoon T.V. and then CARTOONS!!
And there was Sherry, “Smokey” Macomber’s sister. Smokey and I would ride our bikes around and around, pausing only for a cold pop, for dinner or when it got dark and the folks called us home. Their dad was a mean sonofabitch, who drank a lot and, I think, beat them quite a bit.
I liked Sherry quite a lot. One day I gave her a ring I bought at the corner store. Her mom made her give it back. I resolved to be a deep sea diver and never come up, not even for dinner.
Even now, as I write this, I close my eyes and see Sherry sitting on their porch railing one summer afternoon, a breeze blowing her hair in her face. She brushes it away and as she does, she turns and catches me staring at her. We both blush, smile, and quickly look the other way. I decide not to be a deep sea diver.
"The summer came and went quickly which is the nature of summer for people who are not children, those lucky ones to whom clocks are of no consequence, but who drift along on the true emotional content of time." (Jim Harrison)
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