between the ages of 10 and 13 my childhood best friend (BB) lived in adelaide with his mum (aunty Ch) and sister (LE). they lived with us for a while, must have been around christmas because that’s when BB tried to tell me santa wasn’t real. pfft. bloody fibber.
BB’s cousins came to live in adelaide after that. us older kids (BB and me, then PB when he moved here) were known as the ‘biggies’ and my sister (JA) and LE were the ‘littlies’. BB, PB and i would often hang out and ride bikes or skateboards (rollerskates were for girls) and practice karate on each other (that’s how i broke my arm, thanks PB).
back in the day we’d get home from school, get changed and go out again. on some mode of transport, mostly to get away from having to make cups of tea while our mums played yahtzee or being designated the fourth player in bridge (i used to fake homework to get out of playing cards). this particular day it was bikes.
my folks were at BB and LE’s place. PB was with us along with another mate of BB’s. we decided to go to the empty block near the old drive in and set up some jumps, i totally sucked. the boys tried to inflate my ego and say i was jumping further than i actually was. as time went on we eventually grew bored of jumps and decided to do something else.
one of they boys had a box of matches.
they started playing with them.
i started feeling most uncomfortable. i didn’t want to play with matches. the boys started a little fire with the matches.
i took my bike and put several metres distance between me and the boys and the fire.
then the fire got bigger.
then i saw the three boys trying to put out the fire by pissing on it. it didn’t work.
then the boys did a dash for the bikes.
i did a dash up the road on my bike to where the phone box was.
the firetruck came a-hurtling down the road before i got there.
i don’t know if our parents figured something was up, but i remember being a tad sheepish when we got back to BB’s place…
