Our KoolAid House

Our KoolAid House

A Story by Celie Rose

most popular house on the block.

Our KoolAid House

Early one chilly Sunday morning, Debra woke up feeling troubled. She decided to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. She threw on a T-shirt and jeans and headed out for a long drive to the countryside, hoping to clear her cluttered mind. She parked her car on a scenic route along a winding country road. The view was breath-taking. Majestic mountains with crowned snow top-peaks watched over the valley below. A beautiful waterfall flowed briskly downward from cracks in large jagged rocks that lead to a serene and crystal clear bluish-green lake. The trees and branches were barren, waiting frozen in time for their renewal in the springtime. 

Green grass laced with silver frosted dew gave way to a bed of Autumn leaves that carpeted the ground in bright orange, red, brown and yellow display. The sun beamed it's warm comforting rays brightly on Debra's face, and the air smelled crisp and fresh as a subtle morning breeze welcomed a new day. The sound of birds singing and chirping joyfully filled her ears. Debra watched pleasantly while busy squirrels gathered acorns, nuts, and berries for the long Winter months. After a short while Debra calmed down, feeling at peace with herself.

On the way back, she found herself driving down the street she grew up on. It was awesome because it bought back fond memories of her childhood completely. Debra pulled over, parked and suddenly became caught up in yester-year thoughts. "I do remember that house, Debra said. It was dark gray with white trim, the doorbell was always broken, it had a wooden picket fence...about four feet tall. It was always buzzing with activity. Our KoolAid house was the place to be; absolute glee.

The sound of the gate door slamming always irritated mother. "Oh...if only these old walls could talk, the stories they'd bring about," Debra thought. "Such a shame this house is broken down and abandoned now; but in a sense it remains the same," she did reason. Her shoulder's dropped as she exhaled and gave out a regretful sigh, "KoolAid House, the good old days." She sat there remembering her youthful childhood endeavors.. It was a time of innocence and so much fun. Debra began to reminisce about being playfully carefree under the sun during those hot hazy summer days and evening nights; around, inside and outside of the KoolAid house. 

Unfortunately, those past memories can never be repeated. She did put head down feeling somewhat defeated. Perking up a bit, Debra's mind began to shift. She did recall, those squeaky, front porch steps, wobbly black handrails shaky but intact, the tattered welcome mat on the left leading to the front door entrance. A brass rocking chair, we all shared, an unused porch trash bin, nothing within, red flower pots with chips and dents, lopped-sided nicknacks, artificial plants that lined the window seal.

Debra's face suddenly filled with an ear-to-ear smile. "Yeah, the Kool Aid House! That's what kids called this house," Family and friends were always there. It was always a place of comfort and excitement; neighborhood kids did hangout without concern or care. Children running in and out all day long; taking a break from the exhausting heat outside, flopping down on the sofa or couch without hesitating. Mom served cold drinks and snacks to everyone. It was a refuge, a safe haven.

Debra sat back and chuckled to herself, remembering a simple life. There was always something for a mischievous mind to get into. Adult supervision was always in plan to keep us kids from getting out of hand. Every child could escape here from so-called, "pressures of life," even though we knew nothing about real life. We were able to be ourselves, relax, rest, cool down, or even act a fool, if we liked. 

"Those hot summer days, kids were hard at play. House parties, sleep-overs, clubhouses, dances, board games, outside relays, touch football, hop scotch, jacks, jump rope, softball, badminton, bicycling, swimming. It was always something fun to get into. No cell phones, computers, Ipads or cable suffocating the brain. Wholesome activities were plentiful and available. With longing eyes, Debra wished for those simpler times. Long gone are transmitter radios, record players with handle and needle playing singles and LP's. Rotary phones, five channels of TV did run, we watched for limited time daily."

At the KoolAid House, kids did Kick their shoes off in the middle of the floor with no one watching; oh so they thought, there was nobody to scold, but a grown-up was monitoring. Emptying pockets filled with candy wrappers on table, when we knew where trash was suppose to go. We could be somewhat of a rebel but respected the rules and boundaries. Lost of fresh air, we played hard utilizing our creative minds, never stuck on computers, video games or any electronics to entertain. Imagination flowed, built go-carts, fake nun-chucks, and other stuff. Back in the day, kids laughed together, talked and played face to face. Debating, creating, signing, reclining, studying, and planning for a next-day adventure.

Debra looked across the street at the old cherry tree. It was still standing. She was surprised., "Hey I remember that old cherry tree very clearly... the neighbor's always shouted at us about falling. Us mischievous kids invaded that cherry tree yearly. "Ummm I could still taste them!" Cherries were so sweet, red and juicy; a neighborhood treat. A Collecting frenzy from start to ending of who got the most. We'd climb high, shaking the branches, falling cherries to the ground. The others children waited eagerly around, grabbing handfuls that they found. 

All of the sudden..here comes Mr. Benson shaking his fist and shouting,  "Get out of that tree, before you fall and get hurt! Gonna tell your parents, you just wait! you can believe and I mean it! "Rushing to get down, but carefully, we began to exit the tree. We always had a plan of escape. We'd split up. This would confused Mr. Benson. He could never catch us or find as we scattered. Debra shook her head and gave way to mischievous laughter.

Anyway, we met up and regrouped at the KoolAid House, with our next plan to climb on the neighborhood factory roof; aloof never thinking we'd ever be caught. Placed twigs, sticks and rocks under broken planks to hide and cover the entrance...piled old tires against the fence and climbed on the roof without incident. Holding tight to edge, we peeked up to see if the coast was clear. A few felt uneasy, a minor dread. One by one we climbed on the factory roof top, then quietly disappeared.

Around every corner lay another adventure and everyone was tactically prepared...painted faces, army jeans, old boots, makeshift weapons consisting of sticks and stones. We continued our journey jumping from roof to roof without care or despair. Until one day, looking through a broken window on the roof, guess what Debra just saw?" The Owner looking right at her, yelling, "get down from there now!"!" We had a bad feeling, that he might call police, Debra called to the others saying, "it's time for us to breeze, before we get into a lot trouble, "Come on..let's us retreat.

Once again, we scattered and regrouped at our headquarters, the KoolAid House. Drank soda pop, ate candy and chips until our stomachs puffed outward, some kids felt whoosy and sick. Fortunately it was short-lived.
We'd sit in a group on the rug waiting to participate in the afternoon escapades. The long, dragged out Monopoly game tournaments; thought they'd never end. The dance contests that everyone thought they could really dance. On certain days, Kids gathered together to watch TV specials and holiday events portrayed. We had many more adventures that I cannot count, inside, outside and around our KoolAid House.

Soon the days were shorter, weather was cooling. Many leaves were falling, it was almost Autumn time.
Summer was ending soon and Fall and Winter would be calling. Another wonderful ending that would be bitter sweet. School would be starting soon. Debra wished she could play forever here. Such a deep sorrow accompanied her but...nevertheless she did look forward to next Summer at Kool Aid House.
"Sure wish I could return to those days, be a kid again," she thought. Sensing it was now time to leave, Debra took a deep breath and exhaled, shrugging her shoulders and regretfully drove off. She would always cherish these memories.

© 2016 Celie Rose

Author's Note

Celie Rose
Please read my short story. Open to comment, suggestion and review.

My Review

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I think somewhere in most people's lives, there's a Kool Aid House. I remember those days.
You have a wonderful gift for descriptive wording, painting out pictures that seem to jump out at you and take you with them.
One thing, I think you meant to say "transistor radios" instead of "transmitter radios."
It's fine, however.
I think our writing styles are somewhat similar, except your grammar is much better.
Well, I really enjoyed this little voyage into nostalgia.
Thanks for sharing.

Posted 2 Years Ago

This is a very interesting short story. I find the word choice quite intriguing, especially the title. While reading this story I started flashing to all the books I read, when I was growing up, about adventures the characters would take with their friends. They were somewhat similar to what you describe in your story. I would like to commend you on your creativity. Keep up the good work and good luck in your future endeavors.

Posted 2 Years Ago

You have some very nice phrases and colorful descriptions that gives life to your tale. Writing your story in "the first person" gives it a reality feel that most readers relate to, so well done my friend Clap Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!

Posted 2 Years Ago

lol,i remember mr benson and the koolaid house
they were really old maids with a shot gun trying to keep me out of their apple trees,, i ate good all summer

Posted 2 Years Ago

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4 Reviews
Added on October 16, 2016
Last Updated on December 3, 2016
Tags: fun. play, mischief, house, innocence, summer, children, adventure


Celie Rose
Celie Rose

Syracuse, NY

My name is Celie. I mainly write prose poems and stories, but my focus is on short stories. I hope to publish my first book one day. I am learning so much. I appreciate suggestions and comments from .. more..

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