Boyhood Days of Mischief

by Brad MacDonald

Remember that summer when we used to spend all our time in my tree house trading hockey cards and looking at old playboys? Each day, with wide-eyed innocence, we climbed the ladder into an exciting world of imagination and newfound independence. Barking out swear words with glee and discussing our favourite cartoons, we felt like Kings holding court in a cloudless kingdom of sunshine. Then our boyhood days of laughter were broken by sudden shouts outside, as the sight of several boys throwing rocks at us and declaring war upon our beloved abode cast our paradise into peril.

I remember watching you with pride as you lifted your grandpa’s novelty pirate treasure chest and threw it down upon them. That thing must have weighed 40 pounds. But only Duane could tell for sure how much it weighed. Cause he broke its fall with his head. X marks the spot. That was a pirate joke. Inappro-pirate? I’m on fire over here. After Duane bit the dust, the other boys took off. Suddenly we were men. As night fell, we carried Duane’s headless body to the woods and set fire to it. We both remained stoic, knowing full well that this was all part of growing up and we’d look back on this moment years later and laugh. Hell, I still laugh. Y’know the phrase “Laugh to keep from crying?” Well that doesn’t apply here. I laugh to keep from laughing harder! Haha!

Anyway, we took the parts of Duane that didn’t seem to burn and sealed them within the double layered walls of the treehouse. I gotta say, though, Duane was pretty flammable – and you can’t fault a guy for that. You wouldn’t know it to see him. Once we placed him inside the walls, you said now we’ll always know just where Duane is and I said now he’ll always lose at hide and seek and you had a giggle fit and spit up some of your orangina. Then we scraped bits of Duane’s head off of the bottom of the treasure chest using your official teenage mutant ninja turtle plastic katana blade. Christ that guy had a large head. I remember I had always felt sorry for his neck – it was a thankless job holding up that goddamn coconut, a thankless job. After we disposed of Duane, we spent the next few weeks swimming in your pool and eating tons of freezies. BEST SUMMER EVER.