Off We Go
Until we get found
WELCOME TO SATURDAY STORIES. I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND. THANKS FOR SUBSCRIBING OR JUST STOPPING IN AND READING FIRST LIGHT. ON SATURDAY I TAKE A BREAK FROM THE DAILY DEVOTIONAL AND PUT OUT A STORY FROM LIFE. SOMETIMES THERE IS A MORAL TO THE STORY. SOMETIMES IT IS JUST A STORY.
My first memories in life are from the years my family lived in Aurora, Colorado. We lived on Dallas Street not far from the main drag through town, Colfax Ave. It is there that I met my first friend, Dan Cevalos. Dan’s family lived right next door to ours. We were the same age and we spent as much time as possible playing together.
One Saturday my sister had a school play. Mom was trying to get all of us kids dressed and ready to go watch that historic moment in theatre. For some reason I was the first one dressed and ready. Mom sent me outside to wait while she hurried my brothers and my sister along. Looking back on the whole incident, I realize everything that happened was really Mom’s fault.
Sending me into that yard was like locking an alcoholic in a bar. The last thing a four year old wants to do is sit through his sister’s school play. In that yard were the things I loved – my red tricycle and Dan. It was a potentially hazardous combination.
As I lay draped across the handlebars of my little red tricycle I vented to Dan about my unhappiness about what the torture of attending my sister’s school play, with a smile and in a flash Dan ran to his yard and returned on his tricycle which was almost indistinguishable from mine.
“We don’t have to go to school. It’s Saturday. Let’s go play!”
The logic seemed inescapable. It was Saturday. No one goes to school on Saturday and even if my sister does, it is no reason for me to be there. She doesn’t need me around. It was beautiful weather, and we were sitting there on those wonderful trikes given to us by our parents. They wouldn’t give us these machines unless they intended for us to use them.
It all added up. So off we went, Dan and I, down Dallas Street. Oblivious to danger and inspired by adventure we made our way three blocks north to Colfax Ave. Making a right turn and somehow avoiding being run over, we crossed several intersections until we had arrived at the destination which must have been providentially planned. Before us in all its glory was the local bowling alley.
With our hands cupped to the sides of our faces which were peering through the glass door, we could see that just inside was a counter loaded with all sorts of delectable chocolate bars and gum. Dan held the door open for me, I rode in, dismounted, and returned the favor as Dan joined me inside.
The bowling alley was also the gathering place for the local men. They were sitting around chewing tobacco and telling stories when Dan and I showed up. They seemed pretty pleased that we had come along. They showered us with candy and gum like we were celebrities. This was paradise found, especially when compared to the thought of sitting through some boring school production. Little did we know that while pretending to be our servants these old guys were actually playing the role of Judas.
After being showered with gifts of chocolate, with congratulatory pats on the head, they sent us out the door and into the awaiting arms of officers from the Aurora police department. We had been had. Loading us into the back seat and our trikes into the trunk, we were escorted home. They already knew who we were and where we lived. They didn’t have to ask. Apparently, mom had panicked and called the cops on us. Moms! They can’t appreciate a good masculine adventure.
Even though we had been ratted out by old men masquerading as allies, and even though we had been turned in by our own mothers; the ride home was a blast. Pre-seatbelt days allowed us the freedom to hang over the back of the seat in the police car and play with sirens and radios. What a day! At least until we pulled into the driveway and I saw mom.
That was a day of discovery. Dan and I discovered parts of the world we didn’t know existed. We discovered you can’t trust everyone who gives you chocolate. We discovered that moms can love you while simultaneously beating the living daylights out of you. None of these discoveries would have been possible without our little red tricycles and the adventurous spirits of two four-year-old boys.
It was a “concert” and I was to play the Triangle. 😆