The rock mover

My job was to move the rock. I knew it was because that’s what Big Brother James told me to do. At 8 years old, I always did what he said, because big brothers are always right. He never would do or say anything to get his little brothers into trouble. I was so naive back then.

Saturday morning started off with the kids from Flamingo Street meeting at the vacant lot next to Old Mrs. Crabtree’s house. It was the first day of excavation for the new fort we called Cliff Condos. Cliff Condos was the three-year dig in the face of a sandstone cliff, the end results of which would be a seven-room condo. The day started with me digging, it ended with a ten-car police search and the worst whooping I’ve ever received.

The huge refrigerator-sized rock stood on the edge of the cliff. James wanted it moved so it wouldn’t fall on us as we dug into the face of the cliff below. My job was to dig enough dirt from around the rock so Bubba Hanks could push it over the cliff and out of the way. Bubba was almost as big as a refrigerator, so his task seemed logical. I still don’t know how I got into trouble. I was just doing my job.

After three dirt clod fights, and one skirmish with Down the Street Bully Brad and his gang, we started to dig. The first kid we lost to the dig was Goofy Steve. He had taken a dirt clod hit to the head and went home seeking medical attention. His mom was in the medical profession, some kind of a nurse or dental assistant. Either way, Goof didn’t return and was gone for the day.

Twin Brother Mark was the second one to leave. He had gotten bored from just standing around. That’s all he could do with a broken arm, a hazard from playing Giant Tractor Tire Ride. It was his own fault, though. James told him to keep his arms inside the tire and he wouldn’t get hurt when we rolled him down the hill. I didn’t really notice, but I think he left sometime after lunch. I just kept digging. Digging was my job.

James and Older Brother Richard were the next to leave. They were going to ride their bikes to Dairy Queen for a lemon-lime brain freeze float. They did ask if I wanted to go. I said no, I had a job to finish. They promised to bring me back a drink, but never did.

After they left, Hank tried to push the huge boulder over twice, but there was still too much dirt around the base. After another hour of being focused on my job, enough dirt had finally been removed. Bracing my back against the boulder, I pushed off with my legs. The refrigerator rock toppled off the edge of Cliff Condos, crashing down to the bottom of the hill.

Jumping up, I brushed the dirt off my clothes and yell, “Did you see that? That was cool.” Of course no one answered. My job was finally finished, but everyone had gone. The final rays of sunlight had been replaced by the purple sky of night. I pedaled as fast as I could. Thinking somehow the faster I pedaled, it would make the sun come back up. Unfortunately this, my first try at time travel, was unsuccessful.

The blue lights of the police cars were visible from the bottom of our driveway. An hour after sunset, mom and dad had called the police. Big Brother James had neglected to tell them that I was still working at my job. And that he didn’t bring me my lemon-lime brain freeze float.

When all the police left, Dad and I went into the bedroom to have a little discussion. If he talked, I couldn’t hear him over all of my crying.

It seems I was so focused on doing my job, I didn’t realize all of my family and friends were leaving me. When your time is up on this spinning globe, if all you have to show for it is a bunch of rocks pushed down to the bottom of a hill, that would really be a sad day. You would have lost what is really important.

This holiday season spend time with family and friends. Trust me, they’re more important than moving rocks.