Huron… Female Recruit

That’s my street, Huron, and all the kids who live on it know my new hobby. Trespassing!

My helmets and ammo made a big impression. While playing Combat and running through the neighbors yards I met a girl while I was shooting kids. Now, I just tolerate girls mind you, but, she is different and I think I kind of fancy her.

I always thought she would have made a swell boy. Her name is Maureen. The prettiest girl around these parts, and she asked me to take her along on the next trespass. Understand, most the boys are scared, but the prettiest girl around is all in, that is, if she can climb.

Well this Saturday morning she strolled down to my house in comfortable pair of running shoes. I warned her that I guess this is illegal but… she rubbed her hands together and said “Let’s Go”

We walk the tracks and get to the barb wire pole ladder behind Grand Central station. This  is where the rubber meets the road, literally. If she climbs this successfully, it’s a good sign we will work out. She is dressed in cutoff jeans and a T shirt, not a whole lot of protective clothing. I am going to get a kick out of this!

“There you are, thats the climb, I will go first, watch where I grab.” I say.

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I’m now inside as her pretty little head pops above the fence, followed by her pretty behind. The prettiest climb I have ever seen. Slo-motion, pretty, like a TV commercial. She jumps down and looks thrilled. I dampen her enthusiasm by letting her know she needs to do it faster… next time. Silently, I am frigging impressed.

I showed her the trains and sat in the seats and talked stuff, not sports, not army, just stuff. There was really no where we had to be… any set is cool. Somehow, I am relaxed. This is going well, this girl thing.

I feel brave and we cross the field to Boystown. We find a bench on the bottom floor that I wanted to bring up to the top of this building so we could sit and view the Tarzan lake from a nice high vantage point. She helped me get this bench up to the top os this 4 story maze. I could not have done it without her so she is already paying off.

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She is covered with dust but even looks prettier. Plus, none of the guys smell this good.  The first piece of furniture  is in the new Penthouse fort we are building. The Red Bronco came in, did the rounds, and left. We can see the main gate from here, that’s big. We know we are alone when the guard exits that gate. Not sure when he comes back, but, he is gone now.

I lead her down from this building and we run across a dirt road holding hands and  cross over to Tarzan Lake. There, I have a row boat. The perfect way to end this afternoon. We floated around listing to a transistor radio playing 93 KHJ…The real, Don Steele. Charlie Tuna, Humble Harve and Robert W. Morgan. Boss Top Thirty hits.  Classic radio on a classic lake. A pretty girl framed by this setting listening…  Yes, it doesn’t get better than this.

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This area is secluded and a guard would probably have to leave the vehicle  to see us… that rarely happens. We even dose off as we sit low in the boat. Hazy sun reflects through the trees and off the water.  A pair of ducks mingle around us, as does a bull frog. This lake is loaded with crawfish.

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This is like dream, this legendary place is my new backyard. And, I have new friend to  explore  with. We dock and step off into the jungle that is magical and gigantic. I stepped on a twig, as it snapped, a million birds took off. That can work for us, remember that, I think to myself, if the birds suddenly take off, someone may be coming.

The only problem the lake has for us is that it is located in  the middle of the lot, so you have a long run from here to the fence if things go bad. Better off hiding, most likely. I am always thinking ways to keep ahead of my pursuers. Small stuff adds up. I’ll take any advantage I can.

We climb out over a old green wood fence. We picked a spot not barbed and Maureen  has already earned that badge, anyway.  I take her to Winchell’s donuts, on the corner of Overland and Washington for some sweet rewards.

I thought to myself  as I  was going to bed… “Girls ain’t so bad after all!” 

Written and lived by Donnie Norden

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