(no subject)
Every Saturday, my brother, my sister, and I make our way to one of the many barns in our yard. We open the rotted-wood door and set up our supplies. Through many cracks in the wall in the middle of the building, we can see the old cars that have been parked in the other side of this barn for what I think is probably 100 years. There is a countertop and a broken sink on the wall with the door, and in the middle of the room stands a table that we had taken over as the center for our potion making. There is a dusty broken window on each side of the room.
My brother and sister put down an old bowl and wooden spoon that they had taken from the house. I follow the pair back and forth from the “kitchen” to the table, asking for my turn to do something. Finally, one of them lets me stir their concoction, usually consisting of water, grass, dirt, and various weeds they had collected over past weeks. After an hour of this game, we hear our mom calling for us and as we walk past her to go in, she scolds us for the millionth time about playing amongst our landlord’s things.
“I’m going to have him lock it up so you can’t play in there anymore, it’s dangerous.” It scares us for a moment, but then we remember that my mom is always full of empty threats.
A few uneventful Saturdays go by until one day we all get off the bus and something catches my eye-there is a piece of plywood nailed sloppily over the one window I can see from the driveway. I feel the butterflies begin to form in my stomach and I start to panic as I run around to the side of the building to check the door. My heart drops as it comes into view and I realize that all the windows and doors have been boarded shut-our potions and supplies locked forever inside. The three of us storm inside the house, furious at our mom for betraying us like this. What are we supposed to do for fun now? Incidentally, my mom didn’t even know about the boarding up of our “fort”; the landlord had done it on his own accord.
“Don’t worry,” my mom reassures us. “There’s always plenty of cleaning you guys can help me with.” Needless to say, none of us were thrilled about helping our mom around the house instead of brewing potions.