The lot on Van Houten Street

The Lot on Van Hounten Street

I looked out the bay window of our second floor apartment. “Here comes Nelson!” I yelled to my brother. I immediately looked across the street. Perfect. I thought. The thick blanket of snow that dressed the vacant lot across the street was perfect. The sun shined so bright and the snow sparkled. “Okay, everyone bundle up. We’re gonna play football.”

My two brothers, my sister and I layered on the socks, at least three pairs, as many shirts as could fit under our coats, and thermal pajama bottoms under our sweatpants. We ran downstairs and Nelson and two other boys from up the street were already taking their places on the lot. The two boys that lived on the first floor apartment made nine. We formed two teams.

“Set...hike!” My brother Angel charged towards me. I braced myself. I flew three feet back and landed on my butt. He was a scrawny twelve- year old, but although I was two-years older, he was starting to get stronger.

“Are you okay?” I looked up at Nelson and saw the smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine, let’s play. Set…hike!” This time I was ready. I saw Angel coming for me again. I needed to teach this boy a lesson. I braced myself, but this time I grabbed his shoulders, tripped him over my left foot and “bang” – he looked up at me and all I saw was a mouth full of snow. Got him back!

So far my team had not scored. I took my position. I wiped my nose with my arm as I felt snot travel down to my lip. Can’t let Nelson see that. “Set…hike!” Nelson ran towards me this time. I happily braced myself. I used the same shoulder trip on him but purposely landed on top of him. I took my time getting up. He smiled.

“Hey, while its daylight.” My brother Angel commented from behind.

Jerk. I thought.

We played for an hour if not longer. Every part of our bodies was numb but we wanted to take advantage of the winter weather. We knew that the snow would soon melt, the leaves would soon come back, and the vacant lot, which served as our playground, would wear a different attitude.
Wildflowers and the most beautiful butterflies would adorn it if the owner did not cut the grass. On the alternative, the smell from the gas station to the left of it would linger causing an unwelcomed high. Worse yet, the smell that crept from the meat market to the right of it. No one could bear that smell: it travelled up your nostrils and if you swallowed, you wanted to gag. Spitting was the favored thing to do.

“That’s enough playing…everyone inside before you catch a cold.” No one dared complain when my mom gave orders.

Nelson and the two other boys walked back up our one-way street through slush. Our friends from downstairs went back into their caves to play with their playing cards, I assumed. We went upstairs, struggled with removing our wet clothes and reminisced the hour that just passed, over freshly made hot chocolate, which our mom had ready for us, and a spoon to scoop up the melted cheese from the bottom of the mug.

Florencia Ruano
www.awomanslifestages.blogspot.com