Childhood Memory

So maybe we weren’t the coolest kids in kindergarten, and maybe we couldn’t do splits like Nozzad or backflips like Ann – but we knew a secret. A secret that no one else had figured out.

We knew that on the other side of the fence lining the playground, was the supermarket. And inside the supermarket was the candy isle. And in the candy isle was the Kinder Eggs.

And we were going to steal them.

All we had to do was climb the fence. True, none of us had ever climbed a fence before, but how hard could it be? I mean, so what if I wasn’t able to hang from my hands and so what if her toes pointed inwards where other children’s toes pointed forward – none of that mattered. We just needed to find a stepping board.

On day one we found a bucket. It was a really tall bucket. Someone was playing with the bucket, but despite her feet, she could outrun all the other kids. Maybe it was because she used dirty tricks. In any case, the bucket was ours. 

There was just one problem.

It wasn’t tall enough.

Standing on my toes on the bucket, I could see over the fence. But seeing wasn’t enough. We needed more. We needed taller.

On day two, we found a ladder.

It was made for kids. A pretend-ladder. It only had four steps. But if you put the ladder on top of the bucket, it would totally work.

“You can’t put a ladder on a bucket. It’ll fall down!”

That’s what I said.

Here’s what she said:

“Are you scared?”

On top of the ladder on top of the bucket, I was practically over the fence already. I took a moment to enjoy my victory.

I shouldn’t have taken a moment.

“What are you waiting for?” she hissed, fighting to steady the ladder.  I swung one leg over the fence. I felt the rung disappear under me.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,” she cried. The ladder clattered to the ground. I clung to the fence, one foot lodged in the grove between two planks. At this point I figured the plan wasn’t going to work out.

I hung there, weighing my options. I figured I was just going to have to stay put until I grew tall enough to climb the rest of the way. Then my hands slipped and I crashed to the ground.

She was already making plans.

 “We got far! We just need something taller.”

“Um.”

“Think we can drag a bench?”

“Um.”

“What?”

“I kinda… I kinda lost my shoe.”

 “Oh… Think we can get it? Maybe we can make a fishing hook.”

We didn’t make a fishing hook. We caved and called for the grownups. I don’t recall them being upset. All I recall is them asking backflip-Ann if she would fetch the sandal. Before we knew, she’d swung herself over the fence, grabbed my shoe and swung back into the playground. She didn’t even need the bucket.