There Comes That Moment

Fortunately, when I was young, what I perceived - 'my kingdom' - spanned - and I'm not kidding you...seven - city - blocks! But being neither worried about - nor having fully mastered - the tricky technicalities required for reading clocks, 'Time' would have no relevance! It truly mattered not! What meant the most, to me, at least, were --- what we'd find to do --- Who would search at 'hide-an'-seek' --- who would win at marbles --- and any chance encountered for recruiting someone new! Absorbing kids who'd just moved in was absolutely vital, but none would be admitted 'til they'd learned our secret code, And each was made to advertise their hierarchy ranking with a magic-markered emblem on the bike or trike they rode. Big ol' Bucky Becker was elected King, of course. At 4 foot 6 and ninety-five, it only made good sense! And Becky Becker - Bucky's twin - our one an' only female, had only gotten in because she'd done so...as a prince! With 'tom-boy-hair' an' dressed in jeans - and pret' near big as Bucky - half the kids, I'm bettin', never knew I'd bent the rules! Thurston Twiddle never knew! Though super good at marbles... Thurston's 'tool box', trust me, pal...was short as hell on tools! We'd seized control of seven blocks of 1880s Boston, upon which stood - at one- per-block - a huge Victorian home, And each one had a garden decked with statuettes and fountains that endowed its noisy peacocks with a lovely world to roam. The gardens were our battlefields for all the wars we fought, providing countless 'hide-behinds'...which kingdoms sorely need. Problem was...our mascot was adept at gettin' loose... and Labradors, believe me, are a very clingy breed! Every time she'd get away she'd find where we were skirmishing and give away where each of us had moved our troops to hide! At least the ornery traitor was respectfully consistent... though all fired up to join the fight...she'd never to take a side! Now and then a ticked-off peacock made the staffs aware that someone - unbeknownst to them - was out there - on their lawn, So...two things we got good at, at the risk of soundin' cocky, were - dodgin' grumpy peacocks...and the art of - gettin' gone! Darnell Scat - the only knight who'd never won at jousting - blamed it on the training wheels his folks had made him use. He claimed they greatly interfered with things like - leaning out - to help him dodge the lances - and would thereby make him lose! No one bought his reasoning but we let him think we did. The lances - which were billiard cues twirled 'round to use their butts - Cost him six or seven teeth and, one time, broke his glasses, so each and every one of us revered him for his guts! The weirdest kid of all was from an undertaker's fam'ly. Chester wasn't stupid, he was simply - slow to learn! His bike was super tall and - while his straightaways were perfect - he'd sometimes lose control and wind up wreckin' when he'd turn! And when we'd do our wrestling matches, Becky - though a girl - if not paired-off with someone twice her size - would often win, So when Nathaniel Pinkerton made fun of Becky's stutter... it wasn't somethin' Pinkerton would ever do again! Conflicted by his rude remarks, she popped him in the snot box! Largest loss of nasal blood I've ever seen to date! And t' think that - gettin' older - at the time, was what I yearned for - a more exciting, grown-up world for which I couldn't wait! A spoiled-rotten, only-child named Elawishus Duncan, joined the club in '42 and asked to run for 'King'! We had him chat with Bucky, after which - and, as expected - no one that I know of ever heard another thing. They'd made a deal between themselves --- the one who spit the farthest would, unless he passed away, be King, while...all the while... All the members new full well the new kid wouldn't win 'count o' Bucky's field of expertise...that dude could spit a mile! Jebadiah Dooley, who we voted in as Sheriff, kept the count when pickin' teams to make sure things were fair. Ya' really had to watch him 'cause he'd only just learned numbers, and...if and when there was one...Dooley'd choose who got the spare! For two an' a half years our mob played war in other peoples' yards, yet not a child in any house had once came out to play! We were ridin' bikes and trikes...they were ridin' ponies - and yet, I swear...compared to how those kids turned out today... Me an' the gang, I'll bet ya' big...despite our lives weren't 'fancy'... cherish every bit as much the mem'ries of our past. Mem'ries made with rusting modes of lifeless transportation nowhere near as 'classy' and, of course, nowhere as fast! The way we lived was, I'll admit - compared to them - quite hard... but as I've watched them struggle in their fights to reach - the 'Top', But a few have failed to comprehend 'there comes that moment' when clocks that tick - 'our chances to enjoy our lives' - will stop! This was back in '43. My God...how things have changed! High-rise condos stole those seven blocks where we once played! The 'Kingdom' we enjoyed has been - 'upgraded' (so they say)... but I'll be first in line for swapping every change they've made For one last friendly sunny day on which the gang and I could run those massive gardens where we'd feign 'medieval war'! Truth is, far as I'm concerned, they've yet to gain one attribute that I perceive as being worth the lives they traded for!