The Dog

He lived on the porch of the "haunted" house by the park. An old tumbled down sort of place with live oak trees that shaded the yard and moss that covered the limbs of the trees, dripping onto the tin roof. The painted on the porch had blistered and peeled away leaving shades of green and blue under the white paint. The porch itself was lop sided, leaning to the left. In the middle, sitting with its massive head dutifully watching every passerby was "the dog."

None of the children knew "the dog's" name, only that he was a killer. Large and as mean as a moma bear, the dog kept watch as the children crossed the street as they neared the sidewalk near his house. Seldom was he not on guard duty.

I had never been to the park before. It was several blocks away and in my 6 year old dream world, I didn't know much anything existed outside of the three houses on my side of the street, "the Little store" across the street and perhaps the house next door to it. For me, a long drive meant going to grandma's house or picking up dad from work. A treat meant going grocery shopping with mom and grandma or visiting one of my cousins. A park? Too far away from my little girl world.. in that summer before 1st grade when my world was still small.

Linda, the hero of my childhood, was allowed to take us to the park this particular day. Not too assured that we could "keep Up" with the teenagers, Linda's mom, Aunt Faye (in that typical southern style of calling every adult female "aunt") dropped all of us off at the park and drove the 4 blocks back to the house. There we spent an hour or so swinging on swings, riding the spinner, watching boys play basketball and having a wonderful time.

Then came the walk home...passed killer's house.

I remember eating an icecream cone. I don't know where it came from. Perhpas the icecream man came by and my mother had given Linda money for a treat. Perhaps Linda treated us herself or the ice cream man took pity on us walking in the hot Florida sun. All I know is that I was in heaven, eating ice cream and walking on the sidewalk, trying not to step on a crack. Totally unaware of foreign dogs that would "bite your head off" or any other problems, I watched the feet of my much older friends and trusted that they knew the way home.

Then we came to "the house."
As we approached, Linda picked up my 4 year old sister. She whispered to the other children, "He is on the porch."
My eyes opened. "Who is on the porch?" I thought. "Which porch?" Looking at the rows a shotgun style houses.
We walked slowly towards the house.
"If I give the word, then run as fast as you can." She said. "Don't look back, just run."
I don't know what happened after that. Did the dog growl? Did it make threatening movements? Did it appear as if it were going to come across the street and chase 6 children? Where was its owner? Why wasn't it on a chain?

All I know is that Linda gave the word. "Run!!"
I held my ice cream as tight as I could and began to run. Short legs on cracked sidewalk. The sidewalk ended. We ran across a field of grass almost as tall as I was. My head and shoulders barely appeared over the grass and all I could see was my friend's back. My heart was racing. My black patten leather shoe came off.
I tripped and my ice cream flew from my hand. The world disappeared in a tall grove of grass.

To my left, I could hear the dog. He ran right past me. I could see him large body as he went by. I didn't know what to do, so I lay there for a moment and waited.
After a moment or two, Linda's form appeared above me. She helped me stand up. I looked around. The dog was gone. She took my hand and lead me to a lady's porch.
The old woman was sitting in a rocking chair talking to the other children.
"Never run from a dog." She was saying. "It just makes them chase you. If you need help, go up onto someone's porch. Dog won't follow you up here."

I listed to her words of wisdom as Linda brushed off my clothes, then we all went back to the field to searh for my missing shoe. I told them the "dog ran right passed me" and their eyes got large. They told me I was a brave little girl. Truth was I was a scared little girl...scared of large unknown dogs, not finding my way back home, having to walk with only one shoe, and losing my ice cream cone.

It would be years before I ventured back to the park. My teen friends soon found other adventures that didn't include little girls as they entered high school. My world would open up and new characters would join the story...but for that one summer, that last summer before I started school, life consisted of 1/2 a block of Lawton Ave, peanut butter sandwhiches and frozen Kool-Aide climbing through the open window of Linda's house, playing school in her 1/2 finished garage, climbing trees, drawing hop scotch on the sidewalk and an occassional run down a slip N slide.