It must be something that is completely inherent to children, and only children. The innocence that lets them wake up at every sunup, and greet the day with utter delight. I will never forget something that my grandmother once told me when I was a lot younger. ‘The world is like a candy you stick in your pocket for later...or to forget completely.’ And I won’t lie and say that it made no sense to me at the time, but started to once I grew up. It made all the sense I needed it to make...because chocolate is best after being forgotten in your pocket for most of the day. A slightly melted, always sweet world, that you lick off of your fingers.


     It was just such a candy riding in the left hip pocket of my comfortable jeans, as I slowly made my way down the stairs of my building. Seven floors to walk was nothing, no elevator needed, thank you very much. Adults hardly ever took the stairs, and so there was never anyone to stop me from doing anything. Like slouching for instance. I could slouch with the best of them. In fact, I was a master sloucher. I could slouch so well that it would look like I had a hump! And so going down those stairs, I slouched. I slouched for everything I was worth with both hands stuck in my back pockets.

Once in the Autumn daylight though, I had to once again walk properly. No one wanted to be haggled by the old ladies that always sat outside the building. They were always there, especially when you were slouching or doing something else that you shouldn’t have been.

Sure enough, the first thing I saw was the semi circle of old women sitting on the benches. And even surer, all looked up at the exact same time, hoping to catch a kid like me doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. Like slouching. Turning on my most winning smile I strolled out of the building, nodding to the women. There were only about ten yards between the doorway and the little gate out into the street. I was more than half way there, confidently striding, sure that nothing could stop me at this point.

“And where do you think you’re off to walking like that?”

Surely this wasn’t aimed at me, some other kid probably blundered right into their midst while chewing gum or something. Only about three yards to go, but my stride wasn’t nearly as steady now.

“I said…..”

There was nothing steady about my stride now, I could see the cracking paint of the gate. So close, so close….but what could they possibly want, what could have caught their old eyes? My hands! I groaned inwardly and looked to the sky in dismay. I had been in such a fine mood that I had kept my hands in the back pockets. Which naturally made me look as if I were strutting across the little courtyard like a rooster in a hen house.

I could run. I could run and stay out all day. Surely they would find some other kid to reprimand by the time I had to come home. But what if they saw Mama when she went out to shop? Mama would be so very annoyed at having to listen to the old women because of me. Steeling myself, I cast a look at the gate, now just inches away. Turning, I retracted my steps. The old women were all looking at me now, they looked hen-like at that moment. With their round bodies, and bobbing heads. I had seen hens all the time at the market in the Village Square, and this is exactly what they looked like. I stood looking down at the ground, awaiting what I knew would come next. The clucking. They were very good at the clucking. My mama had once taken me with her to see a choir singing, it was neat how all of the men and women could sing the same exact thing together and sound like one voice. The old women were kind of like a choir, a clucking choir. They were so well practiced that all together they sounded like a very big and upset hen.

“What’s a boy your age doing strutting around and swaggering like some big shot? Don’t you know that little boys are supposed to stop and say ‘good day’ politely instead of just strutting by? Why, if your grandmother would have seen….cluck”

I looked up at the sky and noticed the sun was a lot higher now than just a little while ago. The day was well underway, and I hadn’t gotten to do anything yet. I thought again of making a run for it and taking my chances later.

“Do you see that? He’s not even listening! Counting birds no doubt.”

My chin hit my chest, eyes focusing on nothing as I listened to the choir of clucking. The ground under my feet was mostly bare earth with some loose gravel. One stone in particular was shaped like a submarine. Gently I nudged it with the toe of my shoe. Periscope depth Mr. First Mate. Periscope depth sir! Periscope up, keep her running steady. Running steady sir! There was an enemy destroyer somewhere in these waters, she hid in the fog. I could feel her though. The rolling waves would show her to me, outlined against the red sunset. She would be running silent. Destroyer to port! Come about and ready tube one!
The pebble submarine had made a circular swirl in the dust, something was missing. Something was wrong, there was a tickle in the back of mind, as if I had forgotten something. It was way too quiet, that’s what it was. Whatever it was that had been making all the noise, had finally stopped. Unfortunately my relief was pretty short lived, I remembered what the noise had been. I don’t know how long I had been standing there, pushing the pebble across the ground. When I chanced a quick look from under my eyebrows, I found all of the women looking at me expectantly. This was it, this was my chance to free myself. I only wished I knew what they had wanted from me. Another glance at the sky made me fidget all over. So close….so close…

“I’m sorry?” Yes, that must be it. My head came up off my chest. I tried to make myself look like I was actually sorry. I stuck out my lower lip just a bit, I forced my eyes to grow larger and look sad, I wrung my hands. “I am sorry” It sounded funny coming out, almost like I had something sticking out of my mouth, making it hard to speak clearly. Sort of like the kid who sits to my left in class. The way he says things makes saliva fly all over the place, kind of like his lips are tripping all over themselves. Maybe that was it. I must have stuck my lip out too far. Well it was too late to do anything about that now.

My breath caught in my throat as I waited for something to happen. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a small bird that was watching me and the old women with his head cocked to the side.

“Go on with you, such a little nuisance.”

The words were directed at me, but their eyes were already looking somewhere else. Elated and at the same time somewhat annoyed at being sent away like that after everything, I turned and quickly made my way to the little gate.

“Silly hens!” I muttered under my breath with my hand on the gate.

A sharp intake of breath, kind of like a steam engine, froze me in my tracks. The dead silence had returned, but it seemed even more serious this time. The knuckles of my hand went white,  clamped down on the gate.

Don’t look back, just keep going, keep walking. I heard rustling. I chanced a look behind me, and this time I did run. Right over the little gate and onto the street, I ran as fast as I could. The hens were coming after me, and they looked like they wanted to peck my eyes out.

The buildings sped by in a blur, the grocery store, book store, shoe repair, another store. My feet bounced off the pavement, I could run forever at this rate. I was racing now, racing for the gold medal in the Olympics. Just like I had seen the tall, skinny, men do on the television with my grandparents. They had not only let me watch the whole thing, they made me watch it. It was actually very neat, I had to watch television every day for about a week! A kid’s dream. Of course not everything had been interesting. Like the dancing on ice skates. My grandmother hardly said a word during the whole event other than, “Did you see that? That was wonderful!” I on the other hand watched and could not understand why no one was falling down. Wasn’t that part of the fun of ice skating? What’s the point if you just skated around in a circle to strange music the whole time? Even adults fell and laughed, while skating at the pond in the park. But no one was laughing on the television. They just jumped around a lot, spun, and then cried while a bunch of numbers were being announced. I didn’t get it at all.

“You don’t get it all,” my grandmother had said. “It’s like dancing on ice, like a ballet.” That made even less sense to me. I had seen a ballet just last year, the older kids in school had put on a whole show at the auditorium. Kids had fallen left and right to wonderful, blaring music. It had been the greatest thing I had ever seen.

My head snapped forward, something had me by the shoulder. I was yanked back, and almost off my feet, which were still trying to run. Oh no, the hens! They had somehow caught up to me, even though I had been running like the men in the Olympics. Squeezing my eyes shut, I twisted, struck out with my foot and screamed.

“Watch it there kid!” The pain in my foot meant that I had hit one of them, good. I struck out again. “I said watch it there!” The voice was defiantly not a woman’s voice, and defiantly not a clucking, old voice. My head bounced back and forth as I was shaken by the shoulder. Popping my eyes open I was looking at nothing but dark blue. With some shiny buttons. And a badge.

My mama had often said to me that I may one day bite off my tongue if I kept sticking it out of my mouth. I had also heard her say more than once, that daddy learned to swallow his tongue when in public. I always thought that was a rather funny thing to say. I mean, how could you swallow your tongue? Now though, with the policeman’s hand firmly on my shoulder, I must have swallowed my tongue. I did not feel it going down my throat, but I couldn’t seem to find it in my mouth either. I couldn’t even open my mouth for that matter. All I could think was, the old women had called the police on me. And now they were going to arrest me, and put in my jail. Just like all the criminals they always wrote about in the newspapers. “What’s your name, kid?” I stood frozen,