The Field

Behind Foth's house, next to our backyard, was "the field". There the grass got really tall in the summertime, and we would create tunnels through it, with the grass bending above us to form a sort of roof. We had a whole maze going through it. I enjoyed being a jungle cat there. It was a meeting place for all the children on the block. We played all sorts of imaginative games; Tarzan, cowboys and lots of hide and seek. When the grass was finally cut at the end of each summer, we were terribly disappointed. Then we would play softball there, so it was not too bad that way either. It was surrounded by backyards, and felt like our own territory.

One evening when I was about 12 or so, I was down by the railroad tracks in my pink striped blouse and bermuda shorts with my friend Carol. An older boy appeared and started to talk with us. He seemed nice. He let me ride on his shoulders for a while. It started to get dark, and I said I was going home. He said he would walk me home. On the way, I asked him what his last name was. He had told me his first name already. He said his last name was Anheuser. I knew that had to be a lie, it was the name of the brewers of Budweiser beer.

I became really alert then. We got to a point where I could cross Porlier Street and cut through the field, or go around the corner and down the sidewalk to the front of our house. I decided to cut through. He offered to walk me the rest of the way, but I said no. I ran across and into the darkness of the field. I hid under the lilac bush and watched in case he had followed me. No one came, so I went home, relieved.