Friday, May 13, 2011

on Spying

When I was about 10 my family was visiting my Aunt Marge.  During these times I usually tagged along with my cousin Debby who was two years older than me.  We would occasionally take the twenty minute walk through the back woods to the reservoir, or maybe go and visit the very old alcoholic who lived in a tiny shack made of old doors.  No matter where we went Debby and her friends would smoke and drink beer, even though they were only 12 or 13 years old.  I tried both items and hated it so much I never touched the stuff again.  I still don't smoke and extremely rarely will I ever try a beer.

One time Debby and her neighbor Raymond (who was my age and in my class at school) walked to the reservoir where we showed each other our "privates".  That was the first time I ever saw a girl's "area".  It really wasn't very interesting.  They made me swear never to tell, but then Debby regularly used the incident as a threat: "I'll tell your mother what we did by the lake if you tell [fill in the blank, about the smoking or the drinking]".  She used the threat in order to keep me silent about visiting the old drunk in the door shack since her mother forbade her to go there.  He was a nice old guy who told us things about history.  I think he may have been a teacher once.

During this one particular time, Debbie and Raymond and a few other of her friends decided to play a game called "spying".  What this consisted of was sneaking over to a neighbor's house in the dark and watching through the windows.  I didn't think this would be fun, but went along anyway.  As it got progressively darker, we ventured through the woods to the Mayhews' house.  Their house was a split-level ranch with huge front bay windows.  They were just finishing dinner when we arrived.  The light from the windows would give us away, so we carefully each took a tree to hide behind.  For some weird reason, watching them walking around, silently mouthing words to one another and cleaning up their dinner table was actually fun.  We found ourselves laughing, rather loudly.  I had no idea about voyeurism, nor the mechanics that could create amusement, but couldn't help myself being intrigued.  I wondered who one of the daughters was speaking to on the phone, or what joke Mr. Mayhew had told which had really cracked up Mrs. Mayhew.

Suddenly one of us laughed too loudly and all the Mayhews looked out, into their front yard, directly at us.  Now the real excitement started.  With our hearts pounding and nervous laughter erupting, we took off running, around the side of their house, headed for the woods and safety.  As we were running the rest of the kids leaped into the air.  As I was wondering why they had leaped, I suddenly became aware that I was falling.

The Mayhews had what is traditionally called an "open sewer" which consisted of a ditch about four feet deep by two feet wide.  It ran from the house to a cess pool about 40 yards away.  The sewer was full of green algae, water, and of course solid and liquid waste, exposed to the air.  Although these types of sewers were and are illegal in many areas, this was rural Oregon in the seventies and many farmsteads still had them.

Being only 10 my chin was just above the "water" line.  My hands clung wildly to the grass on the banks, keeping me from sinking further.  The outdoor lights came on and a door opened.  I was soon lifted from the ocher and stood on the Mayhews' cement patio.  I took off my clothes, except for my underwear as they hosed me off with freezing water.  Debby and friends returned to the house and she made a call to my mother.

I had to walk all the way back through the woods, barefoot, my reeking wet clothes in a garbage bag.  My mother's mood was odd; she seemed disappointed that I had allowed myself to get into such a mess.  I don't think there was a punishment for any of the night's activities.  I supposed they felt I'd suffered enough of a trauma.  To this day I can remember the grisly details I've left out of this post, and they are nausea inducing.

Okay, now that you're sufficiently grossed out, you can return to whatever you were doing previously.

No comments:

Post a Comment