May 23, 2011 by Sara
I met Ashley at day camp the summer of 1981, we were six.
Ashley was fun and fearless. She was fast and spunky. Not a troublemaker, but she would try just about ANYTHING. Translation, she could eat two fireball candies without flinching and then challenge and beat anyone in a running race with the candies still in her mouth. If you dared her to do something she would almost always agree to it and usually succeed.
I was the polar opposite of Ashley. Not neccesarily outgoing or gregarious like she and somewhat shy. My only redeeming quality was that I too was fast and athletic and I could keep up. I was up for just about anything, as long as it wasn’t breaking the rules. I was a rule followerer.
The first time I had a sleepover at Ashley’s house I was introduced to the game of “war.” As the oldest child and the only girl with no male cousins, this *game* was completely new to me. Ashley gave me a crash-course (stay low, don’t get caught) and sleepovers at her house became mini-games of RISK with neighborhood kids making up the different “sides.”
Most importantly, I learned that if I was going to sleep over, I had to bring all black clothing so we would be less consipicuous when on our missions.
We took this VERY seriously. With good reason.
Ashley’s older brother, Jay, became ‘General Jay’ and we were his soldiers. Orders were issued from the top and we were to execute them precisely. As it was possible to get promoted and demoted, you did your job with gusto. Failing to do so would mean something, but we never knew exactly what.
To be honest… I don’t remember just exactly what we were trying to “fight” in our war, there was no flag to capture, no prisoners to free. Mostly we just hid behind scratchy bushes and tried to move from location to location undetected. Usually, the game would end in an eruption of laughter at being discovered by another faction and resulting in our losing “the war.”
I guess it was more-or-less a glorified version of ‘hide and seek’.
Whatever it was, it was terrific fun and I ALWAYS wanted to sleep over at her house instead of mine.
One time, when there were no other neighborhood kids around, we decided to declare “war” on the elderly babysitter.
We quietly made our plan of attack, snuck outside and set up our posts as per General Jay’s orders. For effect, the General had burnt a cork and applied the ash to our faces to further camouflage disguises.
Ashley and I staked the outside of her parents’ solarium, looking in on the sliding glass doors while the boys circled around the back.
You can guess what happened next…
We pretty much gave the poor sweet lady a minor heartattack. Four dark shadowy figures rustling in the bushes resembles something straight out of a horror film. She screamed at the top of her lungs and we ran away laughing but all feeling pretty horrible at the same time.
At some point we outgrew “war” and moved on to boys and music. I couldn’t tell you exactly when this happened but naturally it just did. The neighborhood boys then became the target of notes and prank calls instead.
Today, all grown up, and thousands of miles apart, we still talk and strategize. My oldest friend and I now swap stories about our daily struggles on the battlefield of mommyhood and life with toddlers and preschoolers. Definitely, not as often as we’d like – but when we do it’s like old times, because like a good solider, I always know she’s got my back.
This was written as a prompt for the Red Dress Club: “This week, we want you to recall the games you played when you were young.”
>
read more
