"ART IN MY SANDBOX"

I love my sandbox of memories,

the sifting of the sand through my fingers,

like sifting and flowing through the hourglass of time.

We listen, we look, we think.

As little girls we play in our sandbox.

We make mud pies to give to mean people to eat.

We play with our dollies in the sand.

Then the little curly headed boy from the next house over

yells "Can I play with you?" I will bring my truck over to play with your dolly."

We yell back, "Oh okay, but I am thinking of playing alone today."

He replies, "Oh come on, I will comfort you and guide you like a real boy.

I will protect you and guide you in the sandbox.

Your dolly needs a truck to ride in and a real man to drive."

She replies, "Oh, okay then bring your truck over."

He brings his truck and his little curly over to play.

He jumps into the sandbox with buzzing noises filtrating from his mouth.

He accidently hits her shoulder with his truck, "Oh whoops, almost gotcha' there pardner."

She replies, "That's okay for now."

He throws her dolly onto his truck with mud and dirt flying everywhere.

"Oh gosh darn I got your dolly all dirty. Can I give her a bath?"

We yelled at him, "Yes, but you are a jerk!"

He replies, "No I am a real man. I play with trucks and mud."

She tells him, "Oh yeah, then take this mudpie. It tastes really good."

She shoves the mud pie into his gaping mouth forcing the mud to run down his cheeks, face, dribbling down his chin.

He runs away yelling, "Oh you I will get you for this; all I did was dirty up your sandbox and get your dolly dirty. That's what a man does you know. I will get you for this mudpie."

Later in life, the little girl grows up. She is 17.

She starts to date the smooth talking curly headed hunk next door.

He picks her up in his bright red pickup. He drives them to the local hangout. They laugh together about being so young and so vulnerable in life.

After a burger and soda, he pulls up to a park. He tells her, "You ever been here sweetie?"

"No, I have not" she tells him. "It is gorgeous here", as she gazes at the river flowing and winding back into the oceans of sand. "Thank you for bringing me here."

He looks at her, grins pulling her closer to him, grabbing her boob, pressing his lips against hers in a sloppy juicy kiss. He begins to push himself against her breasts and fondling her legs gradually moving his hands grabbing her vagina.

She pushes him away, "Let's go for a walk along the river, play with the rocks and sand between the rocks." He nods, winks.

They got out of the car and began walking by the river. He throws his arm around her waist, winking, kissing her neck, whispering, "Let's do it on the rocks." She waves him off, "Ouch, that would hurt!"

"Oh no, baby after the foreplay and the sex on the rocks will feel like a sand bed with pillows."

She smirks, "Whatever, I am bored; need a change."

They lay on top of the rocks on the sandy beach of the riverbed. He begins to fondle her, caressing her breasts as passion overflows between the two as they share red hot kisses.

He pulls her dress up to her waist. She grabs his protruding apparatus, and he pulls undies down to her ankles, whispering "Do it baby!"

Afterwards they get up and dress.

He takes her home, dropping her off in front of the house telling her, "See ya' round you sexy thing."

She leans on the car window, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

H replies, "Oh, who knows? What is fate?"

He goes home to San Fernando. The next week he moves to Austin.

She never saw him again.

She is frantic when she finds out she is pregnant six weeks later.

Her parents send her away to give the baby up for adoption. Her mom yells, "You whore!"

She is driven to a home for unwed mothers. It is 1967. Women are still second-class citizens.

After she gives birth, she returns home. She goes back to school. Her days were sometimes filled with sadness as she swallowed her pride and attempted to keep her dignity.

Upon graduation she moved to an apartment in Hollywood. She walks out her door running into the curly headed guy, her neighbor. He winks, whistles, "Wow, look what the heavens dropped here for me."

They begin to date. He stands her up for the third date. She is frantic, thinking, "Hmmm, the asshole is probably in North Hollywood at the Palomino with some chick dancing, wooing her, kissing, all that."

She walks out to the parking lot, gets into her 1966 white mustang with red interior, steps on the gas speeds out onto the street. She takes the 101 freeway to North Hollywood exiting Lankershim Blvd. She drives to the Palomino Club, parks, says hi to Tiny the bouncer. She bellies up to the bar sitting on a bar stool, asks the bartender for a tequila shot. She looks around the club that is completely packed. The blues country plays loudly as the house band backs up the stars.

She spots him in the far-left corner snuggled up to a red head chick.

Walking up to him she says, "You fuckin jerk!" She splashes her shot of tequila onto his face.

He says, "Oh honey come over here, join us, threesome is so much better."

She sits down at the booth. He leans over pulling her closer to the pair, "Feel my cock baby. You pretty girls should let me watch."

She jumps, he pulls her back inside the booth. She jumps back up, "Fuck you bitches!"

She runs out of the club knocking drinks out of people's hands. She gets into her mustang away to her apartment in Hollywood.

Four hours later at 3am there's a knock on her door. She opens the door to the curly headed neighbor.

He grabs her arm, "You bitch!" He slaps her. 'You whore!"

First time we did it on the rocks by the riverbed. You chased me out here moving next door to me."

She replied, "No bitch I thought you moved to Austin."

He slaps her throwing her onto the rainbow-colored carpet. She lay there with bruises, tears running down her face. She can't believe that the grown-up man next door is the same curly headed boy who impregnated her, ran off to Austin now back in southern California.

"Why me lord? Look what has happened to the sandbox and the curly headed next door, now an insecure man."

Then she grins remembering the mudpie running down his neck and chest as he regurgitates the mud.

Then she visions him choking on the mudpie. "Only a dream!"

The sandbox of time filters through the hands of time.

Abuse was taught at an early age for the curly headed little boy in the sandbox.

The girl, now grown, plays with the sand, filtering through her fingers as she sits on Santa Monica beach. She stares out at the undulating waves carrying the sand, the rocks, the seashells out into the depths of the Pacific Ocean.

She sighs, "Now that I am much older the abuse could not happen again, but like the tides of the ocean of the shifting sands of the hourglass, he loves me, he loves me not,"

This is a fiction story, a period piece from the 1960s through 1970s.

Women have made great strides away from this scenario in 2023.

However, we could slip back into the reality of the story.

This is not political. It is about dignity, respect, and equality of women all over the globe.

Partly prose, partly fiction, partly reality is life happens.

By Vicki Trusselli 2023

Los Angeles, California