The day was like any other. It was summer. It was the Euclid house. My brother and I were playing, like usual. We had a babysitter, like usual. We were doing stuff we weren’t supposed to, like usual.
It was the blue house, just two houses down from ours. It had a porch on it. We were constantly climbing on the roof of that house. I think we started in a pine tree near the back and then climbed onto the roof. It was easy.
We were on the really high part of the roof and made our way to the front of the house. It was kind of a jump to get down to the porch roof. Probably three or four feet. The porch roof was probably 12-14 feet off the ground. It was high. To me, anyway.
I don’t know why we actually climbed on people’s roofs. What the heck? They must not have been home, otherwise I am sure they would have yelled at us to get down and get away from their house.
So, like I said, it was just like any other day, until it was different. We were on the porch roof and we were playing. We must have gotten bored because now it was time to head out. Hmm. We had a dilemma. We were too short to make the little climb back to the regular part of the roof. Remember, that little three or four foot part I talked about?
I told Jeff I would help him up. He either stepped on my back or he could jump to hang on and I boosted him the rest of the way or I laced my hands together and he put a foot in and I boosted him. I’m not sure what we did. Anyway, I helped him and he was back up on the main part of the roof. Now it was my turn. I asked him where he was going. I yelled at him. I helped him. Now it was his turn. Only he didn’t help me. He left me.
I kept trying to jump up and grab something to hang on to so I could pull myself up to the other part of the roof. I couldn’t. I tired myself out. It was too hard and I was too short and now I was too tired. I was also really, really mad.
I just hung out on the porch roof. Waiting. I’m not sure what I was waiting for, but I was there, waiting for it. Just waiting.
Pretty soon my sisters came over to the house and were talking to me. We were trying to figure out I was going to get out of this mess. After going through several scenarios we decided the only thing and best thing for me to do was to jump. That’s pretty sad that that was the best thing for me to do. They decided they would get some pillows and some blankets and I could land on those when I jumped. About the only thing to break my fall was some grass and a sidewalk. That’s it. Nothing else.
They left and I waited some more, contemplating my sure death. I mean, seriously, how could I not get hurt jumping off this porch roof? A while later they came back with blankets and pillows. They set them all out very nicely on the ground and let me know when they thought everything was ready.
I looked down and it was so high. There had to be a better way. If there was, we couldn’t think of it or figure it out. It was the only solution. I kept looking down at the ground. I was scared. It was really high. Really high.
I had to do it. It was time. I wasn’t getting down unless I jumped. I walked up to the edge of the porch and looked down. I looked at the pillows and blankets. I looked at the grass and the sidewalk. I looked around for another way. I looked and looked. Nothing. I really did not want to jump off that porch roof.
I counted, 1. 2. 3. When I got to 3, I held my breath, closed my eyes and I jumped. I landed with a giant thud. I landed on the sidewalk in a seated position. I was scared to look. I was scared to open my eyes. I was scared to breathe. Hmmm. I opened my eyes and looked around. I managed to miss every single pillow and every single blanket. I knocked the wind out of myself. I couldn’t breathe, but at least I didn’t die and at least I was down.
I can’t remember if we told our parents what happened. I am pretty sure that I wasn’t too happy with my brother for a long time after that. Maybe that curtailed my roof climbing expeditions too. Maybe…