imagination

I stepped into the dark bathroom. It took a moment before I could make out the object of the sink and the black window of the mirror. I was with my best friend Bryan and at the same time we began saying the words.

“Bloody Mary”

“Bloody Mary”

“Bloody Mary”

In the next seconds we were both running out the door screaming. And then laughing. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why we were laughing. I had seen something. Some kind of scary face that seemed to be moving forward. It’s all very vague now. But it was there. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why we were laughing.

That was something like 29 years ago when I was like 11. The world seemed like a movie in those days. There was a park behind my house and on both sides of the park there were woods. The woods were filled with monsters. Sometimes me & Bryan would create the monsters with the bodies of dead birds we found. Probably victims of the neighbor’s cat. We would sculpture a sand body on the ground and put the bird in the head of the body. Late at night, deep in the park behind the house, we would see glimpses of the creature we created. Seeing him move in the darkness while we watched below the windowsill. Our own little Frankenstein. One time we saw Bigfoot cross threw the park into the South woods late at night.

The park is about 200 yards deep from the backyard to the dark road on the other side. Passing through it at night was a frightening experience. I think that’s where I learned to run so fast. I was always the fastest kid in school. The park is full of scattered trees on both sides. Through the middle is a fairly straight path about 20 feet wide. At night it is as dark as the bathroom we said the Bloody Marys in. I would sprint full out from one end to the other. Always feeling something behind me. I swear my feet would barely touch the ground. One night in the park, gliding over the blackness, I slammed head-on into a very thick tree. It was like being run over by a bus. Lying on my back I didn’t think if my face was smashed. Or if my neck was snapped out of place. In that frozen moment, I thought about my own Headless Horseman that was chasing me. I didn’t think long. I got up and ran.

I love movies. I go to the movies to be young again. That is where my imagination is still alive. When I was young, life was a movie. Something exciting waiting around every corner. I could see something come alive in every cloud. These days, the monsters have all disappeared. Life doesn’t have the excitement it once did. Work and eating and TV are the focus of most adults. Boring. I know life must change with age. We have to survive on our own. I think working full time, the stress and tiredness of it. The losses and pain we go through. The worry, the fights, the illnesses, the addictions. Through the years they take their toll and we just get tired, and we hardly even notice we’ve become dull. It’s a slow process. It sneaks up on you. Life is a gift, and I’ve let all the dirt through the years bury it. I miss that passion for life. Imagination that would create excitement. I’m determined to find it. Maybe it’s still there. Below the surface of years of a monotonous adulthood.

It’s funny when your young, how you wish you were older. I remember when I was a kid my dad would let me steer our Volkswagen Thing. I would sit on his lap and keep the car in the middle of the road while he worked the pedals. Sometimes when the car wasn’t running, I would sit in the seat and try to reach the pedals and look over the dash at the same time. I would have to slide off the seat and almost stand up to do it. My parents would start laughing and tell me I could drive when I was a grown up. I would say I wanted to be a grown up now. I would be pouting, and then laughing. I couldn’t wait to get older.

Now that I think about it, I don’t know why we were laughing.