My 3rd grade fantasy — that some cataclysm like those I’d read about, the eruption of Vesuvius, or the Plague, or Frost Giants taking up residence in the sweet-gum grove — would close Lafayette Mills School in the spring so Kenny and I could go biking around the creepy abandoned Old Scots’ Burial Ground all day; or James and I could hunker under a thorny bush trying to smoke “grass” — yes, fresh green lawn rye ripped up in handsful and rolled in newspapers, lit, then inhaled; or Brad and I could go out into the soybean field at the end of the block, and dig a pit and find a human hand locked in a chained box, but not really; has come true for today’s tots.
As an adult, even without kids (especially without kids?) I am fully aware of how taxing and scary this kind of event must be for the parents.
Still — if I were a kid with a bike….




