The Empty Lot

            by Arielle Usher

 

 

There was an empty lot behind Rollo’s house that was overgrown with dandelions and clover, and strewn with all kinds of interesting old junk. Maybe there had once been another house there, or maybe it had always been empty, a small square of green among the grey and brown buildings on Rollo’s block. Rollo didn’t care what the lot used to be, and in fact he didn’t even think of it. At six years old he knew many things, like how to read and write his ABCs, but he didn’t have any idea about History or How Things Used to Be. Besides, what the lot had been was nowhere near as important as what it was, and each time Rollo went out his backdoor into the lot it became something different. Last Tuesday it was a desert island, and on Wednesday it was an ancient castle. Then on Thursday it was raining and Rollo’s mother made him stay indoors, but on Friday the sun was out again, and the lot behind his house became another planet.

            Rollo’s mother didn’t like him to play in the empty lot. There was broken glass, she said, and there were rusty nails, and she didn’t at all enjoy getting him clean for dinner after a day of digging for buried treasures. But now it was summer, and it was very hard for Rollo’s mother to keep him occupied indoors when the sun shone so sweetly on the soft grass. And so every day Rollo played in the empty lot and had adventures in new places and times, and when he came back indoors he told his mother about everything he had seen and done. Though his mother often frowned at Rollo’s muddy hands, she loved him very much and smiled as he explained how he had climbed to the top of the tallest mountain in the world that day, and outsmarted an evil scientist named Zalgadorf.

            Rollo’s imagination was a magical thing, and very powerful, but he probably would still have been bored and lonely if he had to play by himself everyday. It was lucky for him, then, that his best friend lived just around the corner. Rollo’s best friend was named Skiddle, and Skiddle liked playing in the empty lot almost as much as Rollo did, but not quite as much because Rollo always made him be the bad guy in their adventures. And when there was a circus in the lot, as there was on Saturday, Rollo got to be the lion and the monkey while Skiddle was the big slow elephant and the poodle ballerina, who everyone knows is a girl. Even so, the two boys had a great time that day. The circus was bustling with spectators who were amazed by the wonderful things the circus animals could do. The lion roared the loudest in the entire world, the monkey climbed to the top of the tent and stood on his head, and the elephant balanced on a red rubber ball with no hands. Even the poodle ballerina, when she spun around twice in one jump, got a standing ovation.

When Rollo went inside that evening and told his mother how high he had climbed and how load he had roared, she told him that he was very, very brave. She had told him before, too. “You are fearless, Rollo,” she said. “You are my big brave boy.” Rollo swelled with pride every time his mother said these words, and he knew they were true. He knew this because each time he and Skiddle got ready to fight some monster with sharp teeth, Rollo stood in front.

 

Each time he and Skiddle had to cross a bridge over a bottomless pit, Rollo went first.

 

 

Each time he and Skiddle swam through shark-infested waters, Rollo led the way.

 

 

Rollo really was very brave.

On Sunday Skiddle couldn’t come out to play. He was visiting his aunts who lived in Cleveland, which was a long way away.  So his after breakfast of apple slices and Rice Crispies, Rollo went through the back door into the lot all by himself. In the bright sun the lot looked like it usually did, but not quite. There was quietness and stillness in the air, as if the lot was waiting for something. But for what? It was waiting for him, Rollo the Adventurer. But today he didn’t feel so adventurous. Rollo looked around and saw the shadows of the tall grass, and the old things lying in the weeds. Usually when Rollo and Skiddle walked into the lot and looked around, they knew immediately where they were and went about adventuring. But today the lot was just a lot and nothing more, and it seemed entirely too empty for Rollo’s comfort. With the toe of his shoe Rollo kicked at a small stone on the ground and then looked up at the wide blue sky. Then, in spite of the sun that shone brilliantly, he shivered and ran inside. And for the first time that summer, Rollo’s mother didn’t have to wash dirt off of his hands before dinner.

On Monday, Skiddle was still in Cleveland and on Tuesday, Skiddle was still in Cleveland. Rollo didn’t go into the lot on either of those days, but he wasn’t scared. Or at least he didn’t think he was; like he told his mother, it was just that nothing was as fun without his best friend.

On Wednesday, Skiddle was back in town, but it was raining. Rollo spent the day indoors again and looked out the window at the water falling into the empty lot.

Thursday morning dawned bright and clear, but after breakfast instead of running out into the lot to wait expectantly for Skiddle, Rollo stood quietly by the window and only went through the back door when he saw his friend squeeze through the hole in the fence that outlined the lot. Rollo walked outside into the freshly washed world, and Skiddle waved at him.

“Are you ready to sail across the ocean?” Skiddle asked.

Rollo nodded. Then he said, “But you can be the Captain today.”

And Skiddle was, and Rollo was the first mate, and when he went in for dinner, his mother shook her head and took him straight to the bathroom to wash the mud from his hands.