Ever wake up from a weird dream, then go through a string of thoughts only to end up with some particular moment of time?
Well this time it was some dream of going back through some place in Appleton, WI. The back yard was flooded like some kind of huge creek. (a little bit of background: these were a string of town homes that had no fences bordering them. I lived there from about age 6 to 10 or 11 years old.) In reality I don't remember any flooding occurring in the back yard of these houses, but it occurs in several dreams enough to make me wonder if it did happen but something I had forgotten. (there was though a creek in a field nearby the houses.)
In some dreams, the flooding is so deep, I can go through with a boat. This time there were all kinds of plants growing in the water. Many of them were invasive species from who knows where. They were choking out the native plants. My goal was to quickly catch some of the native plants and try to put them some place before the weeds could get them. At several points I was reminded how healthy and beautiful everything looked. Even the weeds were admirable, but they were growing fast..almost enough to be able to watch. My time was limited.
The dream shifted to a scene of grandma and I looking through buildings in downtown St. Paul. (in my dreams all cities seem to be painted by a landscape of towering sky-scrapers. Almost never does any city look as it should.) Some reason we were squabbling over a wok. If I were to find a yellow gas burning
stove, she wanted me to give her the wok in exchange for another that could be used on the stove. Whatever....
In the dream, she and I were both looking for apartments. I didn't get to see the outcome, because my dream fizzled out and I woke up at some climatic point... (that always happens?)Upon waking up and several thought processes later, I was brought back to some time I was riding my bike down some old lady's lawn. Previously I was trying to find some friend's house, but neither she nor I seemed to know what neighborhood she lived in or what her house looked like. I tried to find it based on a sketchy description. Frustrated and to the point of crying, I gave up and headed home. But just in time I glanced over and found a neat looking huge backyard owned by an old lady.
Her lawn composed of a really steep hill. It was well mowed and provided the ideal place to just glide down with ones bike. It gave a great thrill, but not dangerous enough to fall or run into anything. It was just what I needed after a frustrating time. For a moment I forgot how upset and frustrated I was and had a great time.
Whatever the case, the owner wasn't impressed. She came out and had an impressive, over the top, fit. I mean, like as if one couldn't do any crime worse than do a little damage to her great amazing lawn. Forget murder or terrorism... This was the top crime anyone could ever imagine. She yelled out in a fit of rage, "I'm gonna call the cops! Get off my lawn now or I'm gonna call! I'm calling the cops right now!" This lady was shaking both her fists in the air, probably stomping her feet as well.
I didn't really get to study her interesting behavior. Utterly terrified at the the thought of being handcuffed and sent to jail, I petaled my bike as fast as I could out of her lawn and far away from her sight. Miraculously I got home safely.
Even then as a 10 year old, I felt like I did something seriously wrong. It wasn't the fact I trespassed into some old lady's lawn. (legally it is a crime.) It was that I failed to speak up and potentially make a difference in someones life. Once again I was rather cowardly and took the easiest way out, rather than speak out.
I had met this lady before. I was with my dad at the time and we talked. At the time she owned a chunk of land. She was trying to keep it rather neat, didn't like some teenagers coming in with their beer bottles, etc.. I expressed I didn't like them either. (they liked to scare and harass me.) My dad brought up about the developments going on with the field. The DNR had regulations against developing land so many feet from a creek. The land was considered a wetland and was supposed to be protected. The developers were illegally filling in the land so they could develop it later. The lady expressed that she was keeping her land until the value went up so she could sell it. At least that's what I picked up with my 10 year old mind. She was interested in selling it to be developed, with little interest about keeping it for the environment. I may have mentioned to her my concerns, but it was irrelevant to the story.
This was a women that needed something, perhaps a childhood... In my 10 year old mind if I could do this moment over, I would not have fled. Now as an adult I am left wondering, what if... Maybe it would form the basis of an interesting story. If I were to write it in a story it would be something like this:
Gathering up all the courage I had, I walked my bike up the steep hill. Meanwhile the lady continued to hurl threats about calling the cops. Perhaps she did. But for some reason, this time I wasn't afraid. I had a mission to follow. This mission was to help this old lady. Why help an old lady? I didn't know. Something inside me wanted this. I stopped in front of the little old lady. She was barely as tall as me, if not a little shorter. For a moment she stopped yelling and looked surprised.
"Why are you standing here?"
Lost for words, I stood there for a few seconds. She continued, "Didn't you hear me? I'm calling the cops."
"I was just having a little fun," I answered timidly.
"This is my lawn," she responded grumpily, "You're not supposed to be here on someone elses' yard."
"Where you ever a child?" I asked suddenly. The old women was taken aback. What a stupid question. Of course she was. Offended, she frowned even more than she already was.
"What does that have to do with this? Of course I was."
"Have you ever ridden your bike down a hill?" I asked.
"Not someone elses' hill," she answered. For once she looked less angry. Perhaps she was feeling sorry for me. "Don't you have a playground or some swings to play on around your house?"
"No," I answered, "they won't allow it." After all, My dad had tried to install a swing set in our lawn. The landowner forced him to take it down. There were no parks that I could walk to by myself. The closest one was kind of a distance and I would have to cross a busy street.
The old women looked even sorrier than ever. For once she realized, this kid must not have what she used to have. This was a child trying to build happy memories. On her lawn. What harm could it do? Quickly the women thought about other concerns. What if the child got hurt? Would the parents sue? How could she say that in a way a child could understand?
"You could get hurt," she stated.
"I have my helmet," I answered, "I should be alright." Without hesitation, I asked, "Would you like to try?" The old lady looked surprised. How dare a child ask such a silly question? This question had to top the "where you ever a child?" question. What if she got hurt? But then again, maybe it would be worth a risk. If only she had a bike.
"I don't have a bike." she answered.
"I can lend you mine." I offered her my bike.
"I don't fit it," she answered. With some hesitation she thought. There was a moment of awkward silence.
"You can ride your bike on my land, but please ask me first. I don't want you to get hurt."
"Sounds good to me," I answered.
Some time time after meeting the strange child, the old lady decided she'd get a bike. Just a simple one; single speed, banana shaped seat, basket in the front, with some streamers on each handle bar. It had a nice shiny magenta-pink finish. Mustering all the courage an old woman had, she secured her helmet, knee and ankle pads, sat on her bike, and petaled at top speed down the hill...
"Wheeeee!"
