Every now and again the topic of my memory comes up. There are some things that I should remember that are totally lost to me. I went to school with a chick named Marisol that for the life of me I remember nothing about. She remembers everything about me including all the times we hung out and went to parties, etc. I got nothing. Then there's the opposite situation - times when I remember the most minute details of the most obscure moments. What really trips people out is that I can remember moments from very early childhood. I'm talking about times when I couldn't even crawl yet. I remember the first time I was able to scoot my way across the living room into the hallway. I remember the first time I was given corn on the cob and I didn't even have the teeth to eat it. I remember vividly my first day of kindergarten. Nicole thinks I should write about some of these memories because I also remember what I thought at the time. So, here's a story for you about the first time I really took a chance in life. It was the first time I decided to go out on my own and risk my life for adventure. It's become a theme of mine later on in life, but this is where it all started....
I'm pretty sure I was three years old. Four tops. I don't remember if I was wearing normal underwear yet but I remember I wasn't at that point where I was allowed to go to the bathroom by myself without someone checking to make sure I didn't make a mess of things. For some reason I remember it being early autumn - late September or early October. I remember my sister was wearing her school uniform that day but I also remember that it was close to sunset at dinner time. My dad worked an insane morning shift at work which meant that we ate dinner at 6:00 pm. No sooner; no later.
I come from a big family. In the end there were ten kids but at this time there were eight. Granted, my great grandmother, great grandfather and cousin all lived with us at the time. That and my parents made for a crowded house - thirteen of us in all. It also made for a strict ritual at dinner time. If it was your day, you had to set the table. I was too young for chores, but even then I remember that someone was pissed that it was their day to stop playing early because they had to set the table. Granted, it wasn't as bad as having to do the dishes after dinner, but it still sucked. I remember that my great grandma was in a wheelchair and my great grandpa used a walker. That meant that when dinner was "ready" you still had about five to ten minutes to play because it took them a while to get to the table. I remember that - being Catholic - we had to have everyone at the table to say grace before anyone could eat. That meant you had another couple of minutes you could stretch it before anyone really got pissed. It was those minutes that you picked your place, got your milk, and generally got settled. I remember knowing all this to a science at the time, even though I was only three.
When you've got that big of a family in that small of a house, you tend to work and play in groups. Being three, I couldn't ever really play on my own. I could only go outside if I went with a "big kid." Times were different back then. A "big kid" wasn't one of the kids in high school; it was one that was at least in elementary school. My sister Teresa is only two years older than me but she was considered an older child to me. When you get to Sandy (eight years my senior) then you were talking serious authority figure. On this particular day, Teresa, Jon (my cousin), and Mike were with me. Mike was one of the "big kids" because he was a good nine years older. To me he was an adult. My cousin Jon was about the same age. We were all playing in the front yard.
Times have changed and the neighborhood has changed, but there was a time in Canoga Park when you let your kids play in the street. We lived on a side street; three houses down from the end of the block. As a "little kid", I was allowed to go to the near corner but never around the corner. If I went in the other direction, I was allowed to go two houses over, but never any farther than that. It's not that I didn't know what was past that. We were a good Catholic family that went to church together every Sunday. I'd walked that way once a week and knew all the houses. Well, I knew the first five or six. After that it got confusing to me. That was until this particular fateful day.
It was late afternoon and the sun hadn't quite set yet. I was riding my Big Wheel. Red frame, blue seat and yellow handle bars. Big black wheel with the stick on rims. Tassels on the handle bars. I was cool like that. I was riding as fast as I could from the front gate to the near corner. I'd ride in circles as fast as I could when I got to the corner. I remember discovering centrifugal force at that age, but that's another story. I was on fire. I felt that burning inside me to push the limits of the Big Wheel. Fuck it!
I went around that corner. I rode all the way to the driveway of the corner house. It was only about twenty feet past the corner but it was no man's land to me. I'd never been there before. On the side of their driveway there was a flowerbed filled with raspberry bushes. I remember checking them out but being more interested in the paved driveway. Figure eights! I'm all over town, bitches! Check my ass out! I own this place! Feeling satisfied with my taste of freedom, I recognized that I needed to get my ass back around that corner. It was close to dinner time and Lord knows my ass was grass if anyone saw I went too far.
I kicked it into high gear and headed home. I spun around that corner with no regrets. I'd lived life and it was beautiful. Then I saw it as I headed home - my siblings were headed into the house. It was the unmistakable trot of kids who had just been called in for dinner. Oh shit. Busted! I'm screwed! As fast as I could I peddled to the house. Surely I would be able to get there before everyone was ready for grace and I'd be home free. Panic was rising in me so that I was almost in tears. My family was old school. You didn't get a time out, you got the fucking hairbrush to the ass. I knew I was too little to get the belt, but I also knew I was in big trouble. By the time I pulled up to the gate I could hear the start of the chant of the apocalypse as I knew it: "Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts..."
I was too late. Everyone was seated and they were already saying grace. I stopped. I didn't even ride into the yard. I just sat there on the Big Wheel looking down the street. Then it hit me. Just ride. Just keep on riding up and down the street like you didn't hear mom yell that dinner was ready. This could work! Just play dumb. Certainly they'd notice soon enough that I wasn't at the table. Everyone was worried about my baby sister, Carrie at the time. They'd already forgotten about little Tom and Tina. We were just rug rats that had to be taken care of. Mom would be worrying about getting everyone's plates full before she noticed I wasn't there. Oh, she'd notice, but I had a good two minutes until she'd start yelling. Just ride. Ride like a fucking lame ass until she came out and got me. This would SO work. So I did it. I started riding.
I rode to then end of our house. Normally I'd ride until the driveway and then turn around. Can't turn around now. I'm fucked if I'm this close. I needed a reason to not hear her first call for dinner. I kept riding. I rode until the end of the next house. An old couple lived there. I don't remember their names anymore but we knew them well enough that it'd be cool if i was only at their house. I kept riding. I rode until I got to Caroline's house. Caroline was a kid about my age. I only knew her because my parents knew her parents. I couldn't tell you anything about her except that she lived in that house two houses over. I rode all the way to their driveway and stopped.
I waited.
I listened.
Nothing.
Mom wasn't calling me. Had everyone forgotten about me? Maybe. Seriously, when you have that big of a family with as many issues as we had, you can't be expected to keep track of all those damn kids. I waited a little longer.
Nothing.
I looked ahead to the next house. They had an old blue car and a really nice garden in their front yard. They went to the same church as us and they always went the the 10:30 mass - same as us. They were old and had to drive their old car but we'd always see them. They'd drive away as we were walking by their house and they'd get home as we were walking back.
Somehow it felt right. Somehow it felt ok. I'd been here before. I've already gone farther than I ever should have. Fuck it. Let's ride.
It was at that point that something took over me. I didn't give a shit about dinner. I could give a damn about getting my ass spanked later. I'm riding, bitches. I rode past the old folks house. I kept on riding past the wide driveway house that I'd always wanted to do figure eights on. I kept riding to that house with the crazy ivy. I was back in new territory. I was on my own. I rode all the way to the house with the big dog. That was the first time I slowed down.
This house had the weakest ass gate you'd ever seen. It was loose enough of a gate that I could easily slip right through it. And they had the biggest fucking rottweiler you've ever seen. If it weren't so big, it would have been able to escape any time it wanted. It was only because it was so big it couldn't get through that gate. I slowed my pace. Maybe if I go slow enough it wouldn't hear me. The plastic of the Big Wheel on the cement sidewalk sounded like the rattling of bones on a jail cell. It was like the ringing of chow time for the beast. And there he is. Trotting calmly to the gate. Fear struck me like a bolt of lightning. I stopped peddling but the momentum kept me going forward. Then something amazing happened - nothing. The dog just looked at me. He knew as well as I did that I wasn't allowed to be here. His look said it all - "Where are your parents, boy?" I said nothing. I stopped the Big Wheel with the hand brake. This was my time.
I stared at the dog and he stared back. Fear dissipated into a calm understanding. He didn't want to eat me. Heck, he didn't even want to bark at me. He wanted to be me. He wanted to roam the streets free. He wanted to run until he couldn't run anymore. He knew it and I knew it. My heart jump-started. Fuck yeah! Who's going to stop us now? No one! I kicked the peddling into high gear. I didn't even check out the houses anymore. I just rode. Rode past the houses with the buganvilias in front. Didn't slow down for the oleander house. Before I knew it, it had happened.
I'd reached the far corner.
I had never in my life been there without my parents. At the far end of our block was a junior high. When you're my age, public school junior high kids might as well be Nazi's. I remember walking down there each Sunday for church and feeling the evil that emanating from that place. It's how I was brought up. They don't go to church - them public school kids. They are heathens.
But not this night. This night I was on my own. This night I was experiencing something new. I could care less about the empty school. I was fascinated by the corner. I threw on the hand brake of the Big Wheel and came to a skidding stop. I got off and stood at the corner. Being barefoot, I could feel the cement was still warm from the Valley sun beating on it. I walked to the curb. I was never allowed near the curb. I stared blankly at it. Without thinking I sat at the curb and put my feet in the street. I might as well have killed someone. I wasn't allowed in the street! Never! Ever! No how! No way!
Fuck it. Who's going to stop me? I'm on my own. I'm free. I let it soak in. It was quiet. I remember specifically noting how quiet it was. I'm not positive but I recall that it was the first time ever it being quiet while that sun was up. Coming from a big family, you notice these things. I just sat there. It was glorious. I don't remember how long I sat there but it seemed like an eternity.
For the first time ever I noticed that there was a street two blocks over that was really busy. Lots of cars were driving by. I stared and wondered where all those cars came from. I looked down at the gutter and noticed the wear the water had done to it. How many eons of rainstorms had flooded this gutter and worn it down. I would never know. I'd reached a state of nirvana. All was calm and right with the world. Then a car went rumbling by.
I snapped out of my trance. Who was that? That was the truck from three houses down across the street. Would they go to my house and tell on me? Would my mom suddenly be screaming down the street with the belt in her hand ready to whip me and then maybe kill me? FUCK!!! What am I doing here!?!? I am so fucking dead!!!!!
I hopped back on the Big Wheel and peeled out as I spun that bitch around. I peddled like my life depended on it because it probably did. The dog barked at me as I rode by but I paid it no mind. Nothing but absolute fear raced through my body. It may or may not be the first time, but I remember the feeling of adrenaline pumping through my body even at that early age. Tears started to form in my eyes at the thought of the beating I was about to take. I peddled and peddled as fast as I could. By the time I got to the old folks place, I didn't care anymore. Fuck it, right? That was so fucking cool. Who cares that I'm going to get the hair brush. It doesn't really hurt. I'd learned earlier in life that the louder I screamed, the sooner it'd stop. What if I got the belt? Could it really be that bad? Turns out I wouldn't learn for years how bad that hurts but it didn't seem like it was THAT bad that day.
A calm came over me. I'd take whatever punishment came my way. It was all worth it. I'd tasted what it meant to be alive and I was hooked. I was already thinking about how I'd get back to that corner again. I was plotting how I'd one day go all the way around the block and be able to stop to taste the victory of those raspberries on my way back around the other side of the near corner. Bring what hell you may, I have seen the glory of life and I will not be denied!!!
It was at about that moment when I came peddling up to my house. My mom had just come out to the porch. I was just at the edge of our property when I saw her come out. "Tom!" she yelled. I looked up dazed. This was it. It was time to face my punishment. A calmness took over me and I kept peddling. I'd just gotten to the gate when she yelled, "Where have you been?!"
"On my Big Wheel" I answered calmly. A stupid look came over my face. Instinct took over.
"It's dinner time. Didn't you hear me yelling?!"
"No."
"Well get in here!"
"Ok."
I turned and rode up the walkway to the front porch. I was sure she was going to grab me, lift me up, and tear every limb from my body. Instead she sighed and said, "Come on. Hurry up!" I got off the Big Wheel and took her hand as we trotted into the house.
"Go wash up."
I went to the bathroom and washed my hands. Did that just happen? No limbs missing. No sore red ass. No yelling. She didn't know I'd gone to the other side of the block. She thought I was just riding back and forth in front of the house and didn't hear her call for dinner. I'd gotten away with it.
I didn't say anything at dinner that night. I finished my tacos and took my plate to the sink. I went to my room and played with my Weeble Wobbles. In time Mom came in to put me to bed. I laid there with my green blankie and thought about the warm concrete of the far corner. I thought about that feeling of independence and solitude. I dreamed of the day I'd be able to do it again. But mostly, I thought about how I'd gotten away with it. I'd broken every rule I'd ever know except those involving fire. I'd lived life and lived to tell about it. It would become the foundation upon which I lived the rest of my life. It was the day I decided that I was going to ride that Big Wheel like I fucking owned the place.
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