May 93

It was May 1993. Chris often thought back to one particular day during the evening – a school night nonetheless – down at his grandparents after supper time. For whatever reason, this day stood out in memory. It was the perfect day weather-wise and he was also given permission to do something that would usually be denied.

He was going through a trying period in his life at this time. His parents were in the midst of a separation. He had also just recently lost his grandfather on his mother’s side. And his mother was not the most understanding parent coming from a strict catholic background in Ireland. Little did he know, the next year, 1994, would be one of the most difficult of his adolescent life leading into his teens.

Chris had his arms crossed, rested atop the rusty-red painted fence marking the edge of the yard behind the house. Below was a gradual embankment – a blending of dirt and clay and staggered boulders of varying sizes that dropped to one of the lower fields about ten feet down. His eyes were fixated over the tree line that bordered the far field at edge of the property to the mountain in the distance. The sun had been perfectly perched atop the peak’s tip as though it were a balancing point. He couldn’t get this view from his house. The bushes were too close and trees too high to even see the mountain.

“Hey Chris, what are you doing?” It was Leanne, his cousin, inquiring from the edge of the porch. As kids they were always told not to get too close to the edge of the deck as it didn’t have any rails to keep them from falling.

“Nothing,” he said. He wasn’t about to admit to her that he was admiring the scenery. It wasn’t in his character – at least the side that he portrayed onto others.

She started down the stairs. As she was coming down, Sugar, one of several cats belonging to their grandparents, bolted from her hibernation spot under the stairs. Her crisp white fur standing on ends as she flashed across the yard and vanished somewhere to the front of the house. Both kids chuckled at the sight of her scurrying.

“Have you actually been able to pet Sugar?” Chris asked.

“Nah,” said Leanne, “she just runs every time I get close.”

“Yeah, me too. She likes to hide down by the freezers. I can see her eyes glow when I get down there, but then she runs when I go into the room.”

She walked up to the fence beside him. “I get to stay the night here tonight,” she bragged.

Chris’s eyes widened. “Really? Even when there’s school tomorrow?”

“Yup. Grandma is going to drive me in the morning.”

The feeling of being left out overcame Chris. After all, they were the same age, separated only by two months, and in the same sixth grade class. “I wonder if my mom would let me stay the night?”

“Why don’t you ask? I get to stay out in the camper.”

Chris perked at the idea. It would be just like camping in a way and there was more than enough room for the both of them.

Overcome by excitement, Chris dashed for the porch, catching himself as he almost lost his footing on the first step. “Mom,” he cried, “would I be able to stay the night here?” He had barely opened the screen door by the time he asked the question.

“No,” were the first words out of her month, unsurprisingly. “It’s a school night.”

“But Leanne is staying. She even gets to sleep in the camper.”

Luckily grandma was there as he popped the question. She shrugged before giving her input. “I’ll take him to school tomorrow.”

Chris’s eyes widened, bringing about a smile across his face from ear to ear. Surely that would be enough to convince his mom.

She held her breath momentarily before releasing a submissive sigh. “Okay. I’ll bring you back a change of clothes,” she stated, “but remember that it’s a school night so you’re not staying up late.”

“Thanks mom. Thanks grandma,” he answered ecstatically. He turned back to the yard to see Leanne returning his excitement. It was indeed a rarity that he was able to do such a thing when there was school the next day. It was a small gesture, perhaps one that didn’t matter to many of the kids he knew his age, but he considered this a major feat.

“So what are we going to do tonight?” Leanne questioned.

On a careful note, Chris took it slower down the stairs this time despite his exuberance. “We should go over to the camper,” he recommended.

In agreement, they both raced to what would serve as their bunkhouse for the night. Leanne was quicker than Chris and ascended the camper steps first. Upon opening the door, a waft filled their nostrils – a mild synthesis of campfire smoke and stove top coffee – a common scent during regular camp outings.

“I’ll take the top bed,” blurted Leanne.

Chris nodded in approval. He preferred the bunk over the table anyhow. It got too hot on the top for his liking and the roof was too low, often hitting his head on it.

“I can’t wait until my mom leaves. We’ll be able to get some ice cream and take some cookies in here with us.”

“Yeah. I like staying with grandma,” she said. “This will be fun.”