Momma didn’t seem to have the normal fears mothers have about letting their children out of their sight. From the time I was four years old, I was essentially on my own. I was free to roam the neighborhood looking for someone to talk to or spend time with me.
Momma spent her days off reading books, taking naps, and talking to Lydia and Kinney on the front lawn of the court. When she was reading or taking a nap, I was supposed to either play quietly or go outside. I usually chose to go outside in hopes of finding Ruby’s door open or someone to play with.
There was a large empty lot next door to the court and I often played there, running around whinnying and acting like a horse, pretending I was galloping across lush, green fields instead of the dry, lifeless dirt that covered the lot. At the back of the lot there was a tall wooden fence separating it from a neighbor’s backyard.
One summer day I heard a voice coming from the yard and I called over the fence, “Hello, my name is Beverly. What is your name?”
“Joey.”
Thrilled to hear a response, I asked, “How old are you?”
“I’m five. How old are you?”
“I’m four and a half. Can you come over to play?”
I heard a thump and suddenly a boy stuck his head over the fence and jumped down into the lot.
Joey and I became fast friends, meeting in the lot almost every day for the rest of the summer to play.
There was a large tractor at the far end of the lot, next to the little store where I’d go to buy Vienna sausages and Coke. The tractor had been there so long that it seemed to be a permanent part of the landscape. Toward the end of that summer, Joey and I noticed a teenage boy sitting on top of the tractor. He was pretending to drive, his hands on the steering wheel, gesturing as if he was turning left, then right. He yelled to us and motioned us over to him. Joey and I ran toward the tractor, happy to be invited into this older boy’s world.
When we reached the tractor I looked up at the boy, who looked like a giant on top of the huge machine.
“Hey you kids. Do you want to come up here with me?” he asked. “It’s really neat up here.”
Joey and I shouted in unison, “Yes!” and the boy pulled us up.
I liked how the big boy looked. He had bright red hair that seemed to go in all directions. And he had freckles all over his face. I had freckles too and always felt self-conscious because no one else had them.
Joey and I took turns at the wheel of the tractor. It made me feel like a grown-up to be driving such a huge machine. When I made roaring sounds, mimicking the engine of the tractor, the older boy laughed at me in a friendly way. I felt very powerful up there, high above everyone and everything below. I could tower over everyone and pretend I was the one in charge.
Then the big boy suggested we go with him to a large bush on the lot. He told us he had a secret playhouse under the bush and he wanted to show it to us. Up until that time, I’d had little contact with teenage boys. The few who had passed me by while I was playing hopscotch on the sidewalk in front of the court weren’t very friendly, and one had been mean to me, saying, “Hey stupid, what are you doing out here all by yourself? Don’t you have any friends?”
So when the big boy asked us to go to his secret place I felt special. He led us to a section of the bush where the limbs had been pulled back, providing a sort of entrance. He crouched down and crawled inside. Joey eagerly followed him in. I was the last to enter, pushing aside the limbs of the bush, keeping my head down so I could make my way inside.
Inside, the bush was completely clear of limbs, making for a large, open space. It looked as if the ground under the trunk had been swept clean of leaves and debris. It was quieter and cooler than it was outside and there was a sharp smell of leaves and wood and dirt. It truly seemed to be a magical place.
“This is our special place. No one else knows about it,” the big boy whispered to us in a husky voice. Then, lowering his voice even more, he said, “I have a secret to tell you. It’s a secret that only grown-ups know about. But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone.”
Joey and I both nodded our heads enthusiastically. “I promise,” we each said.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to show you what adults do when they are married. First, you each need to take off your clothes.”
My mother often walked around naked inside our little apartment and slept in the nude, so I didn’t think there was anything wrong with being naked in front of others. Besides, I was curious what Joey’s naked body looked like. So, even though I felt a little self-conscious, I slowly began to take off my clothes—first my blouse, then my shorts, then my underwear.
Joey didn’t seem to be self-conscious at all. He giggled as he shed his clothes.
I’d never seen a penis before. I thought it looked funny, like the head of a turtle sticking out of its shell. I felt like laughing but I didn’t want to hurt Joey’s feelings.
The big boy told me to lie down on the ground and he told Joey to get on top of me. Joey and I giggled as our naked bodies rubbed against each other. I liked feeling his body so close to
