Find Your Own Way
Find your own way. A saying lodged deep inside of my sub conscience. As far back as I can recall. At the age of six is the time I became aware of a need for thinking of my own survival. An early start, on thinking of oneself at such a young age, but it is the way I was. It was my beginning as a loner was born. It struck me while waiting on a corner one morning. A corner up the street from my house. I needed to make the left on my way to kindergarten school. Instead, I decided to look in another direction. My mind wandered, and feeling safe with the thought of danger was appealing. Safe with danger-being not afraid, and challenging my inner self. My nickle and penny for milk and graham crackers in hand. The one favorite thing about sitting through the day at my table, there all lone; getting milk and a sweet snack, while starring at the chalkboard, its all I ever enjoyed about being there. It was better than standing on the corner, but I felt free staying there on the street corner at moments. Afraid to go to school, fear was etched in my mind for some reason,which who knows why.
But not for me to say. On one morning, I started leaving home earlier. My stalling became an obsession with me. A fun time to explore with my eyes at first, but then after feeling brave enough I ventured farther. Looking to see if no one was checking, I had to cross the street. The opposite corner gave me a wider view, and a great feeling of real freedom. I remember standing there, thinking, and watching what was going on. The thought of who was going to take my place where I used to stand. This to me, was the best, my best two spots; it lasted only a week.
At night, while throwing out the trash, my new excuse for adventure formed. I would normally go out the back cellar door. Put the trash bag in the can, and close the lid, and then go inside. I wanted so badly to walk around alone at night, outside in the dark. So I waited, thinking, and thought my mind was being heard as I planned how to get myself not seen, and not noticed being gone. No one around to talk to, but always felt someone was listening to the voice in my head. A sneaky nature for a six year old boy; I have all the answers.
While coming up with a way to do it, so the next night, my plan was set. My only answer was to drag the trash cans from the back cellar, then set them out front under a tree. Watching and standing there all alone in the dark, exactly where I wanted to be. Now the view of my corner was covered by night. I had to see if anyone passed by there. Wanting to see a safe path for myself, I though hard for a way to venture there and back, before trying to venture it first. I thought of running up there for a better look, but chickened out that first night.
As for the mornings, I still had my corner to think things through before getting in line for kindergarten class.
My corner started having strangers coming and going around. Something I either didn't notice before, but there were. Now I started getting somewhat scared. Only once before did a person stop to ask who I am, and where my house was. Never saying what house I lived at, and out of fear my feet started walking to the brick school on the corner, exactly half a block away. It seemed closer than any other time before talking to the stranger for some reason. That was the morning, and how a six year old lost his voice. Finding my way became difficult, but still always had my thoughts to comfort me through. Not much, but a few things also happened.
Finding your own way, comes with help by a good citizen once in a while for a six year old. Like a time my prized nickle and penny was taken from me. I had to give it up, fear made me nervous and confused. Its because of being brought up smothered through tough times, and nurtured to death. A bully must have been watching my corner, and seen me standing there. He was taller than me, and must have went to the same school. Bully came right out and said " Give me your milk money " Have to run now...in a moment, I felt my soul tremble, and really so scared that my mind went in several directions in an instant. Those words; " Give me your milk money " and I wasn't scared off right away, because this never happened to me before. I stopped thinking a second; which seemed like forever.
Being frozen in those seconds seems like a very long time as frightened as I have ever been. Especially if you think your going to be beaten up. I went straight home after handing my stuff over. Really too scared by then to pass by the bully anyway. I tried denying it, only if my mind could have handled it. But the bully knew how to scare it out of me, or it was myself not knowing what else to do about it. Too much emotional breakdown in a six year olds life for one morning. Not realizing it, the come back kid was on the way. On my way home, someone without my realizing it, watched the whole thing. My bully episode finally had an answer. A man across the street from my house, he told me how to deal with my bully. An only way for handling it if the next time he bothers me. No brothers to help me figure this out, finding my own way with some help from a good neighbor once in a while helped out. "Make a fist, and hit him in the nose" After that, my bully went flying into the bushes. I never felt so good, and was never, and ever bothered by that bully again.
My summer was going at a pace, so I spent most of it all alone with just my sinister thoughts,which seemed like all the time. Climbing roofs were one of my favorite pastimes. Having figured out how to cover my entire side of the street by roof hopping. My view of the street by roof,and the fact that I could see the whole neighborhood gave me a sense of empowerment. Seeing the entire street was interesting, and in no time at all I became really good at going from one to another by sneaking my way across rooftops.
There were my favorite roof hiding spots for spying, and hanging out to kill time. There was plenty of cover from the street, and at least I thought no one would catch me. There was one spot on the ground between two garages that I liked. There is where I could hide to light matches. Fire fascinated me for the whole summer,and enjoyed the small bonfires I lit.
Another hiding spot on another roof, was to bother the local garbage picker, KOMEO. I used the top of his garage to hide and wait for him to come up his driveway. Always pushing his cart filled with junk, and newspapers. Smelled bad all the time when he passed by me on the street, and always yelling something like, "CASH FOR RAGS" The old man fascinated me, and his dirty run down house was a fascination too.
I often found time for a lot of stops to spy on KOMEO. The bravery, second thoughts about myself consumed me more though. Taking a crazy risk was always on my mind. I wanted to test my courage constantly. Every idea started out like something smart, an interesting idea to try. Being frightened always makes a young boy test his own courage by doing the darndest things. I always wanted to figure out what I would do next. Especially while most of my time was spent trying to torment old man KOMEO. Climbing roofs was always going to be there waiting for me. I always needed new ideas on how to test my strength and be challenged by fear.
The bully incident made me realize fear was a real thing. I knew not liking it, and believed fear and being afraid could be conquered if I tried something that felt dangerous. A storm was brewing one fine day, plus I could feel the wind kicking up. The sky became darker, as more stronger winds blew our trash can across the yard, and into the air. I thought of climbing all the way to the top of a huge pine tree next to our house. If I got all the way to the tip, hanging on through a storm. This would be a good test of facing my fear, and my courage. The wind on the ground was really bad, and the pine tree was already bending back and forth.
Even before I started up the tree, my mind thought of the last stunt I pulled. Which, by jumping off of a roof with a pillow case to break my fall; this wasn't my best idea. Hitting the ground faster than I thought, hurt my feet, and now my left foot has never been the same since. But the pine tree idea had limbs to hand onto. The tough part was making it all the way to the top. I didn't stop climbing until I did it. I did it though, and held on for my dear life as the wind blew so hard it had knocked me around. My body flung with the tip of the pine tree, hanging on, I felt the top swaying as I held on tigh to the tree as it flung against our attic windows. That is how fast this thing happened. The fear went away real fast though. I had to figure out how to hang on tight while climbing my way back down. Talk about being scared though, I had my whole body clung to that pine tree. My inner fear turned into utter survival. There was tree sap on my face, hands, and my clothes were covered in it. I was scared twice by pulling that stunt.
First attempting the climb, and later thinking of it. I think I learned a lesson, but really never do. Climbing that pine tree was one of the most exciting things I did that day. You can say, that the pine tree helped me to learn being fearless. After that, when my feet touched the ground; I was fine. Finding my way was certainly the goal accomplished that day for sure. Then my next adventure was formed soon after the tree climb. A thought crossed my mind I wanted to span the roofs from one end of the block, to the other. Just to see if it could be done before school starts. In my six year old life; in my mind it would be a dream come true for me. First, I decided to scope out a plan by ground. I checked out most of the garages from the backyards first. Which doing so, I learned where most of the fruit trees and grapevines were in our neighborhood yards also, and that became a favorite thing to do while cutting through the neighbors yards. Getting around all these places alone was definitely the way to go. I was only worried about the older kids catching me. I didn't want to get beaten up, or worse.
Finding my own way by cutting through the edges of peoples yards, over fences, and squeezing through the sides of their garages was fun for me. I made a few stops along the way to break, and eat some pears and apples sometimes. I even found it necessary to hide under a grapevine, my way of watching my own back all the time became normal. It seemed like a survival skill, thinking no one was watching, no one catching me, and no way could they see me. I was still scared half the time though, but I thought I always had things covered. The more I kept moving, the safer I felt. Climbing one roof at a time, and trying to find a spot to make a connection to the next took me a while to figure out. I wanted to dedicate all summer, until I was finished doing the roofs, my summer couldn't end. Not knowing whether it can be done, but it didn't matter. Climbing down trees, which were next to one roof, and hopping up another was not easy sometimes. If I had to walk across to the next roof, though tough, it didn't matter to me. Knowing that the worse thing for me, was trying not to run into anyone. The best thing to do, was not thinking about it, and just going for it. Every place I picked had some form of cover in one or two spots for hiding. It was getting there first, which was the interesting part from most spots. Hiding; I thought was exciting. There was a trick to hitting everything else. Believe me when I say it; I stayed up nights planning my roof capers to keep me sharp. I grew up in a rough neighborhood. Getting caught climbing on peoples roofs, and picking their peaches can get you an a*s kicking. But I always started out in one place; always at the same place every time. It was my favorite thing, finding my own way, because climbing the trees was easy for me, but only after a lot of practice. We lived in the middle of the street, and I already covered half the block, and the left side of the street. There wasn't much to climb that way, and so they were hard to reach. My roof jumping was always centered on reaching the corner where I stood before going to kindergarten. I thought about my adventures, and saw myself as a loner.
I was going in the first grade, so watching the playground from a rooftop felt like a good by forever feeling every time. There was always one tough spot to cross while climbing, and really rough, so I had to be brave to get ready for a jump though. This was going from an angle roof, to a flat roof, and there was a space with a thirty foot drop in between. I had to make two jumps, and this is where a six year old loner mind came in handy. At least I thought I had a starting plan for it. Until slipping too far, then sliding down on my butt off one roof, and falling between two garages. I had to slide on my butt and use my feet as a brake to the edge of the angle roof, and time the jump just right. Too scared to leap, so I used my hands to hold on, and down I went. Somehow, I didn't fall all the way down. To this day, I don't know how I managed not to fall thirty feet. I caught myself by extending my arms and legs; pushing against between the back of two garages stopped a long fall.
Getting back up took more thought than anything else in that corner slot. If there were an easier way getting down there, it would be a hiding spot for lighting matches.
Later I picked a spot right near there for lighting my matches. As a six year old, I was fascinated with fire. I never used the same exact jumping spot, I went closer to the edge, and then fear went away, no more problems. Bravery took on a whole new meaning after the fall and the tree climb. I knew I could live through anything. The fear never totally went away that summer though; to this day it's still within me... . But my roof climbing was fulfilled, and even tormenting KOMEO came to an end. First grade rolled in, and my first day was the best thing that ever happened to me. All my fears and being scared were left behind me for a while in that summer. In my six year old mind, I couldn't wait for first grade. Staying up the night before first day was the best feeling in the world for me. Being alone all summer's with no one to play with. I only met a few kids once in a while. Two black boys next door, one white kid, whose father ran the church, and one black girl from...who knows where.
I also had a Spanish friend, but didn't know whether he liked me or not. Staying mostly to myself all summer, so going to first grade seemed like heaven to me. I remember all the other kids crying, because they didn't want to see their mothers leave. To me, that all seemed too strange. Why would they do that I thought to myself. While for me, I was so happy to be there, because I felt all grown up, and dressed in my uniform. With a tie, clean shirt,and dressed in a jacket and shiny new shoes. This was a really big step in my life to me. There is where I met, Sister Mary James. My summer days of being a loner kid were over. Its the way this Nun greeted me, she was so nice, with a blank smiling stare, like being happy with a permanent smile. I mean it was always on her face constantly. The expression gave me confidence, and I liked it. I was hooked on first grade, and it was my life at six years old. That is all I had on my mind for a whole year. Its also where I met Bernadette Thomas, my childhood sweetheart. I also said,in my thoughts; good by KOMEO. End of Story ' Be immune to rumor' Jimmy Nuzz
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