Lifelines: An Anthology
Central City Press, 1986
Central City Hospitality House
San Francisco, CA
Roof of Childish Wisdom
Childhood: the unmade preamble part of life we spend acting out all that
we never quite reach – cowboy and Indian games, G.I. Joe adventures, football
free for alls, and especially long summer afternoons spent on top of the two
adjacent garage roofs behind the sandbox with the broken swing that rusted away
in front of the dirt alley with broken concrete stones and one or two broken
wine bottles….On those roofs we'd talk about the lives we'd lead and the lives
we were leading and we'd rip off the shingles and tear them to bits when we
were puzzled or anxious or yearning.
Of course, the parents never liked us on the roofs. Parents have a habit of disliking
anything their children do without their aid or understanding.
The roof gave us a sense of power. We looked at the backyards and the backs of the people in the backyards,
walking and talking over pre-meal martinis and badminton games. We could even see to the street if we
peeked around the branches and leaves, and could see the house, which was
inhabited by the girl of my prepubescent dreams.
The best thing was that no one could see
us without making the effort to do so. We could observe them in their innocence and vulnerability while we were
unseen. The roof was our refuge,
our haven, our watchtower, our heaven.