Sticky Yellow Mud

A story of my childhood

Sticky Yellow Mud 

story 

 

Sticky yellow mud, smelled like an old tennis shoe 

 that was left out in the rain. Mud that would stick to 

your boots making a sucking sound when you lifted your foot. 

Mud that made boots so heavy you couldn't walk. 

 

The fort was ruined. 

It had been raining for days. 

Everything we had worked for. . . gone 

Our lives, thrown into chaos. 

 

We would carry the tools and plywood, from my dads basement , 

across the alley, though the neighbors yard, then across Edmond street, 

climb the fence, around the high school, then cross the High school lawn, 

then across the parking lot, without anyone seeing us. 

We would squeeze through the old chain link fence, 

then the thick snarl of brush, the wooded area above the city pool, 

the perfect spot for our next fort. 

 

The two of us, shovels in hand, started digging through 

the tree roots, and brush. Only to find, a layer of garbage, 

that seemed to be a dump of some sort. deciding that the artifacts found, would have to wait, another exploration party, and on we would dig. 

 

At about three feet down we would be getting  tired. It was getting late in the day, we were ready to quit, I was probably late for dinner, and that was a BIG DEAL. Around us looked like a mix between a toy factory, and a serial doll killers back yard,. there were arm,s and legs, heads without torsos, tin cans with jagged metal lid's half sawn off. There was a section of chain, maybe from an old set of snow tires, part of a car bumper jack, a partial box spring from another time, and various cups, pans, and silverware. 

 We were almost done, just another foot or so. We kept digging, 

The dirt started tuning to the yellow stinky clay at about three feet 

we would chip away the last foot, never could get a shovel full. 

 

At last we would slide the plywood over the top, 

then spread dirt all over the top. Always envisioning grass 

would grow over , but it never did. Then noticing for the first time it was almost dark, yikes i missed dinner by hours and would be grounded. 

 

Dozens of these forts, we had built before, always in someone's 

yard or vacant lot. This was going to be the coup de gras , 

the taj mahal, of neighborhood forts. It would be different than 

 all those others. It wouldn't turn to a mud hole,  when the rain came. 

 

We had missed dinner, all the tools had to be returned. 

We were tired, like you feel when you have accomplished a task. 

Then laying in bed that night. . . GROUNDED, it would rain, and rain and rain. Dad wanted his plywood back, 

it seemed the whole world, was against us, but that's OK because 

we really wanted to play basketball the next day. And Evil Kinevil was jumping the Snake River Canyon Saturday on the Wide world of Sports, which was like the world series and the super bowl all rolled into one. Quickly the fort and all the labor was quickly forgotten. 

Reviews

[Joss Jeffrey]

Your work is absolutely remarkable, I will love to help bring it to life with custom book cover design that captures the essence of your story, Line art and story animation that brings your characters to life, and targeted marketing strategies to reach a broader audience. Let's connect! You can find me on Telegram @Yaroslava_6ixyes or Discord @yaroslava70. I'm excited to discuss how we can make your project shine

[ETERNITY]

Yeah! I've seen that sticky yellow mud like freaking clay! Feet sinking into it, it'll take your shoes or boots if you're not careful!
"Serial doll killer"...I kinda laughed, then cringed, lol. The two of you, determined and persistent, wow what a journey with all that plywood and stuff!
Yeah, when all that's accomplished and you get GROUNDED seems the whole world is against you.
I like the last part where Evil jumping the Canyon made ya'll come together and everything was forgotten...for awhile. But not forever, I bet! ...Thanks for posting that! You're an awesome writer!

[D. Mansfield]

Thank you very much for that, it means alot. I really am a story writer, the poems were always a stretch for me

[D. Mansfield]

Thank you for that, it means alot, I read all of your work and think its all very good,

[ETERNITY]

Thanks, love, you are way better than me and I hope you keep writing about your life. Even the smallest things are interesting to readers looking for good reads. You're awesome!

[ETERNITY]

@D. Mansfield, One other thing I noticed: If you were grounded for missing a meal? It wasn't really punishment. Your parents wanted to make sure you got food!

[D. Mansfield]

Thank you, you rubbing them is always appreciated

[ETERNITY]

:) Huh?.....

[redd Brick Keshner]

A striking tale of dreams abandoned to Yesterday. Very moving 🙏🏻🕊️

[D. Mansfield]

Lol, sorry I just could not resist

[redd Brick Keshner]

Nothing to be sorry about man. This is good. 🕊️🙏🏻

[D. Mansfield]

Thank you, I appreciate that