Memoirs from the Past - Part 1

Here are some Memoirs from my past Journal. Part 1.

It was me against the world. What a great feeling. I ran across the street heading for my neighbor’s back yard, since that was where the flag was. I had to get there. The great celerity and determination in my mind would not let me hold anything back. As I ran into his yard, without a doubt each light green blade of grass knew I was the most determined man on the field. At 8 years old no one can really stop you anyways. My legs flew back and forth like a swing set striving to the backyard, but then my swing set became tangled. My legs fell to the ground as if the chain hanging the swing got tangled at the top of the structure. I fell to the ground. My eyes could not believe what was in front of me. The blades of grass between my feet could feel my change of heart. My eyes were flustered. I could not believe the sight. There was a tree right in front of my view…everything in that moment is so easily remembered. I stood next to the trash can, the sick and perverted smell of rotten pizza and apple sauce broke through the barrier of my nose, the clouds stood still, I embraced the ground. But my head stood up, the sound of a little boy crying sailed into my ears. My eyes fixed upon the rope tied around the tree…it was in that moment that nothing else mattered. My heart sunk. Apparently during the intense game of capture the flag my neighbor friend, “Sam” decided that because the game was taken as an intense war between the neighbor boys, that to win this battle he would tie one of my teammates to the tree in his backyard, and just leave him there. And so my eyes stared at him, shocked at what my neighbor had done. Could this actually be happening? At 8 years old it felt like the biggest event ever, my friend Craig, tied to a tree? Crying because of the pain of the rope? A moment I will never forget. The rotten smell, the blades of grass in-between my fingers feeling and sensing the mixed emotions of my heart and soul. The smell so bad that my tongue could taste the rotten pizza mixed together with apple sauce. The sound so bad my ears felt deaf after leaving the scene. I will never forget the sound. The sound of screaming, and crying, the sound of terror; the rope must have been extremely tight around his waist and hands. Never had I thought, will I allow Craig to be tied to a tree, never again will this happen, not during capture the flag. Never.

            Now that I am older whenever I interact with young children I always think about how immature they are, and yet when I look back at myself I stand in denial…was I really that immature? Was I that unloving, uncaring, un-thoughtful? When these questions arise I always point myself to the memory of the baby and the shovel. I distinctly remember the day quite well. Had just finished packing my back pack and out I went to wait for the bus as the custom in that day, old classic elementary school had involved. And then my eyes met an unexpected guest to our bus stop. A baby, yes a baby. Lying down on the sidewalk upside down I knew that I needed to help the poor thing but I was sure what to do. I knew that I couldn’t touch the baby; just standing near it I could smell its horrendous fumes, which instilled inside of me no desire to touch it with my hands. Oh wait, let me clarify, by baby, I mean a Baby Chick. Perhaps chick would be the proper wordage. At any rate, I knew I didn’t want to touch it so I walked into my garage and grabbed my shovel. My mind went through multiple scenarios but ultimately I decided that the best decision would be to just pick it up and flip it over, and hopefully it would just walk off. With that decision made I griped tightly around the shovel. My hands became blistered with traces of the wood impetrating my little fingers. I walked slowly over to the Chick and lightly began to slide the shovel underneath the chick. Its yellow hair, orange beak and brown legs almost glowed directly back at me. Its black eyes were almost conveying a secret message but I could not interpret it. The Shovel’s screeching noise was equivalent to that of a nail moving slowly across a chalk board. I felt frozen in time, until I picked the shovel up above the ground and flipped it over. The Chick was now right side up and hopped along into the grass, hopefully finding its mother. It was in that moment I felt I could change the world. I knew I could change the world. Perhaps it was just one Chick, but my heart had been overwhelmed with the sheer amount of Joy in being able to make a difference in that Chick’s life. Self confidence had been boosted greatly, nothing could take me down now…right?

            Only months ago I learned what could take me down. You always seem to live for the moments in life where you feel indestructible. Joy and happiness in your life so great that nothing can tear you down, not even for a second. Well I have been blessed to experience those moments, and also have been blessed to experience the opposite. I remember the words from her greatly, “Call me when you can” which when someone says that you know something is up. It was like a secret message hidden in the text message. Despite it just being letters on a screen I knew her emotions were different this time around. Now because I did not want my parents to here the entire phone conversation I decided that I would have to do this outside, IF I were to even make the phone call. I walked downstairs and took in a spoonful of yogurt. The taste was bitter, so bitter that I checked the expiration date, but it was still months away. Trying to escape her text message I could not, the emotions were now attacking even my taste. I ran upstairs put on my jacket and walked out the front door. It must have been 10 degrees outside. Already shaking with extreme nervousness, my body quivered, moved uncontrollably, twitching and turning, each house I passed probably could hear each passing step as I walked further and further away from my home. I looked around and suddenly a car came passing through the neighborhood, its white head lights blinded my entire life eye for what seemed like eternity. Eventually I became unblended and I lifted the cell phone up so that I could see the screen, punched in the number and pressed send. As it began ringing, and ringing, each ring meant something different. After 1 ring I felt some small amount of hope, after 2 rings, I felt discouragement as in, what is going on? Maybe she doesn’t need to talk? After 3 rings though, the game changed, after 3 rings then the questions arose, “Is she mad at me?” perhaps I did not text back fast enough, should I have told her I was about to call? And then the 4^th ring came. It was in that moment that not only had the game changed, but my body did too. My legs and frozen lips quivered, my entire motivation had been destroyed, and everything that I had hoped for in this possible conversation had ended. All hope was destroyed. It was the 4^th ring, which could mean absolutely nothing good right?  And then the ringing stopped and there was a still soft voice. “Hello?” it answered. I felt dead. Even the hello sounded faint, sounded like all hope had been lost, sounded like my worst dream just became worst than I had ever dreamt. Fatally wounded I thought, I will never make it out of this conversation alive…

            Without going into detail of what the conversation entailed, it was in that moment, that night that a friendship had ended for that portion of my life, maybe not forever but for the rest of that portion of my life that friendship would not play a pivotal role or so I thought. I have noticed that despite the fact that conversation had destroyed me for several days, in fact the effects of the conversation are still being felt today, it has not destroyed the dream. It did not destroy the dream. The goal has not changed. No matter what my eyes may see, no matter what may hurt me, changing the world, the life changer, that is who I want to be. 

Reviews

[Renny]

I LOVE MEMOIRS, AM COMING BACK TO GIVE THIS A PROPER REVIEW AFTER A RE-READ. THANKS FOR SHARING.

[Corwin T.]

For sure! Thank you, I look forward to hearing your full thoughts. As am I looking forward to checking out some of your own writing!

[Rebecca Buller]

This was wonderful, Corwin. So very vivid and descriptive that the reader actually feels as if they're sharing these memories with you. It was such pleasure to read. Thank you for sharing it:)

[Corwin T.]

Thank you for reading this piece! I am still looking forward to reading more of your short stories later today!!!