March 06, 2006
Walk On By
I went by the apartment where I lived for kindergarten and part of first grade today. It was dirtier and dingier than I recalled, and it was now gated closed with gates that didn't close. I wandered in, scared of trespassing into this place where I no longer belonged.
The South entrance. I recalled an apartment on the left side of a building. Upon exiting the apartment, there would be a park to the right. Sean lived just below the park, and he used to have a light-bright set. I always thought his name should have been pronounced "seen". Towards the top of the park was a friend's dad who could breathe smoke from his nose. We would play Captain Planet in the park, though I'd never seen the show.
There was no more park. It was an overgrown isle of grass with a couple of grills. There was no more slide, no more pole, no more bridge; just a few pieces of concrete and a lot of wet grass.
Going more towards the top of the complex, I remembered her. My cousins lived at the top of this part of the complex and I would often go to their house after school so my mom's mom could take care of me. I was expected at a certain time to return to my own apartment so that my dad's mom could take care of me. I would make the long walk down the street and halfway I would duck to the right and into a park with a big round thing, a slide, and a little girl. Megan Garfield. Meghan? Meagan? We would play ninja turtles with her dad, and run around for what seemed like hours. Eventually one of my grandmothers would wander over, scared for their lives I'd been kidnapped or murdered. Upon seeing me running around the park, they would grab me, scold me, and tell my mother what I had done after they'd dragged me back to the apartment.
As I walked towards the top of the complex, I expected to see a small cul-de-sac to my left, with a park and a girl. I wandered all the way up to my cousin's old apartment, right next to the pool, without ever seeing that cul-de-sac the way I remembered. I wandered further up, to the old dumpster where I'd been harassed by the kids, the house of the other kid that liked playing with hot wheels and making them jump, and by the entrance where the ground was made of unevenly leveled stones such that the car shook like crazy when we drove over it. I followed this same path back down and I finally found the cul-de-sac.
It wasn't actually a cul-de-sac at all, just another part of the parking lot. It also was no longer a park, just another overgrown piece of lawn with rocks and concrete strewn about. My grandmothers would not come scold me if I stayed too long, and no longer was there a little blonde girl with her father, waiting for me to play with them.
I lingered, wondering, hoping, but no matter how I stared and no matter how I reasoned, I realized that things were the way they were and things are the way they are, and oft-times these two states are different.
I walked out the same entrance I came in, through this place where I celebrated birthdays and happy playtimes. Past the park that was no longer there, past the home that I no longer lived in, past the friends who had long forgotten and been forgotten. A man was at the gate that didn't close and he yelled at his dog. The dog had pulled the leash from his hand and he called for the dog to return. The dog pretended not to hear at first, and eventually sank low, put its tail down, and crawled back to the man. "Thank you Shiva."
The South entrance. I recalled an apartment on the left side of a building. Upon exiting the apartment, there would be a park to the right. Sean lived just below the park, and he used to have a light-bright set. I always thought his name should have been pronounced "seen". Towards the top of the park was a friend's dad who could breathe smoke from his nose. We would play Captain Planet in the park, though I'd never seen the show.
There was no more park. It was an overgrown isle of grass with a couple of grills. There was no more slide, no more pole, no more bridge; just a few pieces of concrete and a lot of wet grass.
Going more towards the top of the complex, I remembered her. My cousins lived at the top of this part of the complex and I would often go to their house after school so my mom's mom could take care of me. I was expected at a certain time to return to my own apartment so that my dad's mom could take care of me. I would make the long walk down the street and halfway I would duck to the right and into a park with a big round thing, a slide, and a little girl. Megan Garfield. Meghan? Meagan? We would play ninja turtles with her dad, and run around for what seemed like hours. Eventually one of my grandmothers would wander over, scared for their lives I'd been kidnapped or murdered. Upon seeing me running around the park, they would grab me, scold me, and tell my mother what I had done after they'd dragged me back to the apartment.
As I walked towards the top of the complex, I expected to see a small cul-de-sac to my left, with a park and a girl. I wandered all the way up to my cousin's old apartment, right next to the pool, without ever seeing that cul-de-sac the way I remembered. I wandered further up, to the old dumpster where I'd been harassed by the kids, the house of the other kid that liked playing with hot wheels and making them jump, and by the entrance where the ground was made of unevenly leveled stones such that the car shook like crazy when we drove over it. I followed this same path back down and I finally found the cul-de-sac.
It wasn't actually a cul-de-sac at all, just another part of the parking lot. It also was no longer a park, just another overgrown piece of lawn with rocks and concrete strewn about. My grandmothers would not come scold me if I stayed too long, and no longer was there a little blonde girl with her father, waiting for me to play with them.
I lingered, wondering, hoping, but no matter how I stared and no matter how I reasoned, I realized that things were the way they were and things are the way they are, and oft-times these two states are different.
I walked out the same entrance I came in, through this place where I celebrated birthdays and happy playtimes. Past the park that was no longer there, past the home that I no longer lived in, past the friends who had long forgotten and been forgotten. A man was at the gate that didn't close and he yelled at his dog. The dog had pulled the leash from his hand and he called for the dog to return. The dog pretended not to hear at first, and eventually sank low, put its tail down, and crawled back to the man. "Thank you Shiva."
# posted by Yann : 20:04
