Summer

I was 4 and a half years old when my brother was born. I was not at all happy about it. He was a chubby little thing with a perfectly rounded head and rosy cheeks that I would kissbite whenever mom wasn’t looking. He would cry of course and mom would say that she was going to put him outside in the trash can for the fairies to take him away. I actually liked the idea of that. I would ask her if they would feed him? I wasn’t evil after all.

When he was about 18 months old he started to grow on me a bit. By 2 and a half he was pure entertainment. In the mornings mom would give him his bath. Some how every time she took him out of the tub he’d manage to break free of her grasp. Holding onto a dry 2 year old that’s fully clothed is hard enough but keeping a hold onto a wet one is nearly impossible. A full on chase would ensue. You would think she’d be prepared after the third or fourth time of this happening, but nope! Whenever she’d start running his bath I would head to the backyard to prepare for the finale which always culminated with mom cornering his air dried naked body between the side of the house and the front gate. I would head up to the backyard gather a few marigolds from the flower garden that grandmother and I planted every year or grab a handful of some of the velvety red cockscombs, or even a handful of carrots or radishes and then wait until I could hear the commotion coming from the house. Once I’d hear the inevitable “ you get back here! “ I’d perch myself on the third step from the bottom of the patio and wait for the show. I spent my entire summer in 1968 like this. So completely enjoyable and satisfying!

My brother loved trucks. He was obsessed with them. Every birthday and Christmas he got a new truck. Some were actually large enough for him to ride. Mom always made sure that they were indestructible. My brother was rough and hard on toys so they had to be. Sometimes I’d play trucks with him but he was just as happy playing alone, with our cousins or many of the kids in the neighborhood.

One summer mom bought a used army tent from somewhere. We were delighted. We would set it up in our backyard and have sleep overs outside with our friends. We would take turns between his friends and mine. Sometimes we would have lunch inside of it. It stunk a bit of mildew but we didn’t care. We became the hit of the neighborhood. I suspect after the 2 summers of that smelly tent mom made it disappeared quietly one night. Maybe the fairies took it.

Sometimes he would follow me and my friends to my extreme annoyance. Sometimes mom would say take your little brother with you! Ugh! We got along like cats and dogs but if there was ever anyone that wanted to start in on me in any unpleasant way, usually over a came of kickball or hopscotch, little brother was there for my defense. He was tough and very protective of his big sister. He still is today.

Every summer we would spend 4 or 5 days a week swimming. We loved going to the community pool. We taught ourselves to swim and to dive. My brother was a natural athlete. He became a very good diver. When we were at elementary school together I was 5 grades ahead. I was a serious and devoted student. Him not so much. He was the class clown. His teachers, several of them that I used to have as my teachers, would often compare us and tell him to behave more like me. That really wasn’t fair. We are different in almost every way. My genius is completely opposite of his.

We mostly played in our back alley or sometimes the “slacky” which was an actual slag dump. Well it was the 60s. We would play from just after lunch to dinner time and then back out until streetlights came on. Endless games of hide and seek, touch football, softball, baseball, and release the den. That was my brother’s favorite. Sometimes grandmother would turn on the sprinkler in the yard and we would all put on our swimsuits and run through it for an hour or so. We didn’t realize that she was actually watering her lawn. We would climb trees and eat crabapples, tomatoes and grapes straight from the source. Our backdoor perpetually stayed opened all day until it was time to go to bed at night. Every now and then we would all pilfer something from our family refrigerators or pantry and hike into the woods. We’d make a campfire and roast whatever goodies we had gathered. I didn’t grow up watching tv. There was one black and white television in the living room that the entire family shared. My brother and I were not in charge of the programming so I couldn’t really relate when my classmates were talking about Gilligan’s Island or the Brady Bunch. I honestly didn’t miss it though. I also had no idea that bread was white until I was in the fourth grade when a classroom produced a bologna and cheese sandwich on this anemic looking slab of what I would later find out to be Wonder Bread. In our house bread was brown.

My brother’s love of trucks never dissipated. For the remainder of his life and until now he has been obsessed with trucks. He drove big rigs professionally and has a trucking company now which is so fitting. He loves what he does. Summer is still my favorite season. No matter how hot it is I still love it the most. I have replaced the popsicles and sprinklers with barbecues and cocktails but it still brings me the same joy.