Spring
Mud. It got everywhere. Clung to their possessions and sneaked into places Suzie never realized mud could reach. She remembered a time when she’d thought sand was a pain in the ass, but never again in her miserable existence would she complain about a little beach-crotch. It’d been so different when they’d arrived on the godforsaken plot, full of excitement and hope, long before the earth spat out those old bones. It seemed like yesterday and forever ago....
SPRING
“That’s the last of it,” said Chris, waving at the U-Haul truck while it bumped its way down the hill, through fresh grooves in the earth.
Suzie closed her eyes, took another breath of crisp late-March air, and allowed a smile to creep across her lips. Freedom. They’d done it. Left the rats and the noise and the foul stink and the insane expense of the city behind. Never again would their sleazy landlord rattle their door, chasing a rent check. No more bargaining with the greedy utilities companies to pay off overdue bills. Best of all, she wouldn’t be jarred from her slumber every Tuesday morning by churning garbage trucks and their chattering crews, an obscene orchestra of banging trashcans and grinding machinery.
She sighed as she scanned the landscape, soaking up every drop of the gorgeous view they would enjoy from the windows of their forever home. The picturesque woodlands surrounding the plot would provide a perfect playground for their two kids, Jodie and Jack to roam.
By winter, their dream home would be finished; conjured from wood and sweat, held together with nails and love, to appear in the forest like some fairy-tale candy house. Until then, they would huddle inside their modest two-tone brown trailer each night, enjoying endless power-cut family fun-time. When the days grew longer, and the nights warmer, she could work on her art projects again, painting by natural light into the evening while the kids played. Chris would come home from work, and toil until sundown in shorts and a vest before joining her on their fishing chairs, swilling lemonade like old-timers on the porch in Anytown, USA.
As if party to her private thoughts, his hand dropped onto her shoulder and massaged it. With her own soft artist’s fingers, she gripped the calloused paw she’d enjoyed across each inch of her body a thousand times, turned, and said, “Sure you know what you’ve got yourself into, soldier?”
“OK, you’ve got me. I’ve never actually built a house before.”
Her hand went to her mouth in mock horror. “I can’t believe you brought me here under false pretenses.”
“Too late to turn back now, kiddo. Besides, it’s just putting knowledge into practice. How hard can it be?” They both laughed. Why should she doubt him when he’d never let them down? In her darkest moments, where she’d struggled to get out of bed for weeks, those broad shoulders had carried the whole family.
“Right, we better get settled in and make for an early night,” said Chris, yawning. “Another long day tomorrow. Need to sort through that mess, for a start.” He jabbed a finger at the only other artificial structure besides their trailer: an ugly, cobalt-blue metal rectangle glimmering in the late-afternoon sunshine as it flitted through the canopy. It was crammed with all the possessions they couldn’t bear to part with.
“Now, where are those pesky kids of ours?” Suzie said, turning towards a rustling sound which came from the treeline.
With perfect timing, Jack barreled into the clearing with his sister in tow. “Mommy, the woods look like they go on forever!”
At six, Jack was desperate to explore the growing world around him. Back in the city that meant doing so in overcrowded, underfunded schools and decrepit playgrounds, among the aggression and swagger of inner-city kids.
“They probably do,” said Suzie. “Be careful not to wander too far. Remember what I said about staying within sight of the trailer at all times.”
“I will. Shall we do some exploring now?” he said, tugging at his sister’s sleeve.
Jodie rubbed her eyes and reached for her mother’s hand instead. “Can you read me a story?”
Just like Suzie had been at her age, Jodie was fascinated by inner worlds hidden in books she couldn’t yet understand. She hadn’t yet shown much interest in nature, but she’d discover the outdoor world soon enough. And, at four-and-a-half, she’d never need to know about the dangers of city life. No, both children could thrive out here with only a few important ground rules and basic common sense.
“There’s plenty of time to go exploring tomorrow, Jackie, but we need to get some rest.” She pointed towards the trailer with one hand and patted Jodie’s head with the other. “Your sister’s very tired and it’s time to wind down. Seeing as we’re making a new start here, we can start a brand-new bedtime book. You guys can choose.”
Jack hung his head and stood for a moment, but soon jogged after his rejuvenated sister towards their temporary new home.
