Feb. 06, 2002 - 20:08 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Microcosm

I don't remember how old I was then, I could converse, I could just about get my eyes above the edge of our sink. I was trusted to be out of the sight of grown folks but not for long at a time I had to be show up in plain sight now and then.

It was a heady feeling, that. There was a vacant lot across the alley, within sight of our house and that vacant lot was a magnet to me. There were these huge weeds taller than I was and there were these roundish weeds that when dry were called Tumbleweeds, there were the things we called Milkweeds that would ooze white liquid when they snapped. Nestled in the coarse grass would be what we kids called Sand Lilies.

Over there were hidden dangers too. Sand burrs, goathead stickers too. Scary spiders would show up now and then. Then were the red ant piles around. Oooh man did those bites hurt. There was the once in a while piece of discarded junk that would find a home there. House flies were numerous back then and there was usually some bit of dead or decayed something that would draw them, they would buzz noisily. The errant bee would now and then find some kind of flower or another or would be traversing the vacant lot to go to the next yard with something growing there. It was easy to tell the the difference in buzzes, the bee's buzz had the sound of danger to it somehow. Dogs were allowed to run loose then and they would come through the lot sniffing here and there and then going their way. Once in a while a cat would catch some critter or another and seemingly head for home with it.

Back then, in Denver, most every vacant lot I ever saw had its population of Horny Toads. Being ornery I would hunt them, chase and catch them and put them in a pen made of sticks or confine them in some way, turning them loose when it was time to go home.

There were times that bigger boys would go to the center of the lot where the weeds were the tallest, build a fire and roast potatoes. I was an avid observer of this activity, but had sense enough to split when I would spot a grown up approaching. Those boys would get chewed out for building a fire and chased away by grown folks who feared a house catching on fire from an activity such as that.

When there I was surrounded by big weeds, much taller than I. I could evade observation for periods of time, showing up at the edge of the alley from time to time so that I could be seen. But it was my little world that always had something going on, something to examine, something to fiddle with and material to build an imaginary building. I would bring bricks now and then and make forts of them, maybe three bricks high but surrounded and assailed by the enemy from afar. I would chase, catch and bottle bugs and would catch butterflies and put them in a box. When I got older I would catch butterflies and pin them on a board. Messily of course.

When my cousin who was my age and height was visiting he would go over to the lot with me, but somehow he didn't seem to enjoy being so small in the gigantic weeds. I don't think his imagination was as wild as mine and he would bored. Soon we would be back in my yard playing tag or something.

It was my little world, I knew where the bodies were hid (dead pets), where the interesting places were, I had interlaced weeds and had a kind of shelter from the grown up world. It was somewhere that let me feel big and gigantically grown up in the dangers of the wild. My mental alarm clock would go off and I would pop out of hiding going to the edge of the alley and wave if someone at our house was looking my way.

If I behaved it would sometimes be possible for me to be over there from right after lunch until called in for dinner. I had imaginary friends and acquaintences over there, and was accompanied by my alter ego, Big Bill. We had such serious, under the breath conversations he and I and told imaginary tales of derring do.

In the middle of the lot I would look up at the clouds and pretend being far from the city, just me and Big Bill, making plans for the nights encampment.

As I grew older the vacant lot was still there, but I could see over the weeds and the lot seemed much smaller than it looked when I first started playing there. I built fires and roasted potatoes and a snitched weenie and maybe a marshmallow or two. I would still chase Horny Toads but without the thrill of the chase I had when younger. As I grew older the lot became a place to play in the snow, usually a circle where we played some game, what was it ? Fox And Geese or something like that. Of course there were snowball fights and snow forts.

The vacant lot across the alley had an important role in my young life, it was truly my Microcosm . . . . . . . . .

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