Nelly 1962.  

I couldn’t wait to get to the fishing water. My used pole was strapped across the handlebars of the fastest bike on Birren Avenue and Sunny Side Street. The fishing reel had a habit of falling off my pole so I brought the cure all of our house.....duk tape!  Duk tape was Dad’s fix anything sure fire fix. I didn’t think he would miss it because almost everything in our house was wearing it already. My dog (Trusty Ted) was running alongside me with a smile. A hot day at noon wouldn’t hinder us. We barreled down the dusty gravel road as if we were two jets trying to break the sound barrier and after 20 minutes we were about to do it. Ted dropped way back and rolled over on his side... lifeless!  In a slight panic, I got to him. No pulse. No breathing but I still felt a surge of energy as I got off my bike to help him. He was experiencing the same issues as I was. A true bond. The only way to save him was fresh air at high speed.

Duk tape comes in handy at times like this. I draped Ted over my shoulder and taped each front leg under my chin. His back legs were taped to the front of my belly. We launched forward at a desperate speed. Five minutes before reaching my home he came alive and was somewhat startled and was arching his back like a frightened cat... on my back. I passed a few adult neighbors who were bug-eyed and laughing as total hard-hearted individuals are prone to do. I just yelled out to them several unsavory words and knew I would pay for it later but I was not in the mood to be civil to even adults. Ted was thrashing wildly and even lost control of his bowels on my lower back. He still was a champion in my book. I careened into my front yard and rolled off the bike screaming for my mother. She came running out with a pair of scissors and cut him loose... She then went into the house and sat down next to the phone knowing it would be ringing very soon. Ted and I ran to the backyard for privacy and more private time while we both took a bath with the garden hose. Refreshing!

The next Wednesday was the free matinee. The feature was The Mummy from the 30s. Black and white scary movies were the best. The Johnson brothers were knocking at the front door and I burst outside to join them. I was stunned!  Buttface and Crusty each had a bar of soap in their mouths. “Why are chewing soap you idiots?”   They both responded with a gurgling throat... “ Practice! “   I brushed off the moment of juvenile idiocy and we biked down to the Ben Franklin store and bought some “ pea shooters,” the secret weapons of the movie house. As the mummy started to move his dusty arm to strangle the archeologist who was busy reading some Egyptian “How to Be With a Mummy” book the kids in front of us screamed and covered their eyes. We knew it was the perfect time to shoot the peas through the special plastic straws. The screaming got really loud then. The otherwise useless usher found us in the back row and shined his high-beam flashlight into our faces. The Johnson brothers each had shoved their bars of soap back in their mouths. A dead giveaway to them. I was smiling as they got kicked out and I enjoyed the rest of The Mummy sitting next to a gorgeous teenage woman. The end.

Hug your neighbors and love your kids. It’s getting scary in this world!