Across the Fence

June 23, 2011
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A long, long time ago, before school and this house and everything, I was young and my brother was younger and we lived in a little white house. At the end of our yard there was a fence, and on the other side lived two little boys, Harley and McCain. Harley was my brother’s age, and McCain was mine. We played together all the time, especially climbing trees and badminton across the fence. Bikes too. My dad would sit with their dad, Jim, in their screen porch while Jim smoked. He had a gigantic mustache. Jay Jay, their mom, worked at Rookies and yelled a lot and had flaming red hair. She didn’t seem be around as much as Jim, and they eventually split up. The funny thing is I don’t think we have even one picture of any of them, and we were so close. They moved out of their blue house before we started school. That was 12 years ago. I remember Harley cried a lot and McCain and I were fearless.
That’s all I remember.
And it’s sad because we were invincible and happy and really best friends. He was really my first best friend.
It’s happy though, I think, because he left before any of it could really be ruined. Who knows what would’ve happened if they had stuck around.
But now I’ve just got these few memories.
They had a mean, loud dog but I still liked it.
Eventually the fence came down and we ran around like crazy, I remember.
Because we were indestructible and invincible and we could do anything.

I wonder if he remembers me. I wonder if any of them do.

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