Youth

The street where Jake lived was a cul-de-sac. A quiet place, purposely far enough outside the city so that it would be safer. The lawns there were always green, at least in the spring and summer. There were so many trees! In October, leaves of every color would cover the ground in piles. The neighbors used rakes and leaf blowers to pile them up, and fill black plastic bags with them. Some leaves that stuck around long enough would get to stay all winter, covered in snow. Every morning there was enough snow that Dad would need to get out the snow blower and clear the driveway before leaving for work. The snow banks on the side of the driveway made for great caves and snow forts. The house, with its purple-red brick walls, rose behind the snow forts like a castle. Its windows were always lit up, and during the holidays, there was always something in each window: a candle, a wreath, a bow. Spring came slowly with rain. The family would stay inside and watch TV in sweaters. The sun room was always comfortable in March and April showers. The windows were all around, from floor to ceiling, and you could see the rain streaking down the window pains in the dim, cloudy April light.

One April morning, the sun was out so Jake decided to go out in the yard to play. He took out his set of Jarts, and his nurf guns, and his croquet set. The grass in the front yard was still sopping wet and spongy. Jake set up the Jarts target first, then he carefully counted out 10 paces to mark off the line to throw from. The grass was tall, and his shoes and the bottoms of the pant legs of his jeans were getting wet. Jake was 5 years old and an only child, but he always found ways to enjoy a Thursday morning, or a Sunday afternoon. The first round of Jarts was not good; all his throws were substantially too long, and some of them were rolling down into the neighbor’s yard. Jake collected the Jarts and walked back up to his throwing line. “Maybe if I throw them higher in the air”? Jake gripped a jart by the tail and swung it around and around in a windmill motion. With a yell, he released the jart at the apex of its swing. How high it flew! The jart whistled, like a firework, sailing across the blue sky. Blowing with the wind, the jart soared past the yard and past the sidewalk, landing in the street. As the jart rolled down the street and towards the sewer opening, Jake stood and stared for a second, then he took off running into the street after the jart. It rolled all the way to the opening of the sewer with Jake a few steps behind. Suddenly a pair of shoes jumped in front of the sewer, and a pair of hands scooped up the jart. “Is this yours?” She was wearing a jean skirt and a purple t-shirt with pink bows on it. Her hair was tied loosely in two pigtails. “Yes, it’s mine. Do you live here?” Jake was feeling shy. Ashlyn was smiling just a little “I just moved in to that house across the street” “What’s your name” “My name is Ashlyn , but my friends call me Ash” “Do your parents let you play outside a lot?” “I go out when I want to, as long as I’m home for dinner at 6:00” “Well nice to meet you Ashlyn , I’m going to finish my Jarts game now” Jake turned and started walking back towards his own yard. Ashlyn watched after him. Jake stopped, feeling a bit like he was being watched, he turned back to Ashlyn and said “Do you want to come play Jarts with me Ashlyn ?” Ashlyn stood there stretching her arms downward, holding her left wrist with her right hand. “Ummm... I don’t know how to play jarts” “It’s easy, I can show you how, come on, my yard is right there, and you said you can play outside as much as you want.” “OK I guess I will come; I’ll watch you play” Ashlyn followed Jake to his yard and she watched him play Jarts and Nurf guns and croquet until it was time to go home.

***

The kitchen table was cluttered with flowers. Jars of stuff. Toaster. Butter dish. Outside, a red hummingbird feeder was weighed down by the perch of several finches and the occasional opportunistic squirrel. Ashlyn and her mom sat on the couch, finishing the last few pages of one of her favorite stories. “And Streganona ate all the Spagetti in town... The end”. Ashlyn bounced off her mother’s lap and walked to the table, climbing on top of a chair, she reached for a slice of bagel sitting on a plate. As she delicately buttered the bagel, Ashlyn asked “Mom, did you know there is a boy my age who lives across the street?” “No, I didn’t know that. Which house does he live in” “He lives in the purple brick house with the big yard. His name is Jake. Today I met him on the sidewalk, and he let me watch him play with his toys.” “And did you get to play too?” “I could have. Jake asked me to. But I was scared.” Ashlyn’s mom picked her up and sat her down on her lap. “Mom, would you brush my hair?” She took a small purple brush from the coffee table next to the tv remotes and started gently brushing Ashlyn’s thin hair. “Ashie, I signed you up for swimming lessons. Your brother is quite the fish in the pool. We’re going to go up to Bemidgi next month for his swim meet. Maybe you and your sister can tag along.” “I don’t want to take swim lessons” “It will be good for you Ash. You can meet some kids your same age so you have more people to play with in this new neighborhood” “But I already have a friend” “Who is your friend?” “Jake.” “But you only just met him, there’s lots of other kids out there who you can have fun playing with.” Ashlyn twisted in her mom’s lap so that she was laying on her back, looking up at her mom. Ashlyn’s hair, straight, smooth and thin, cascaded gently around the couch. “Mom I like Jake, and he is my friend.”

***