They are newer memories most of the old ones keep to themselves in the back of the mind. When I am reminded of this neighborhood, I think of coming home from college over summer break, or picking up my parents a few years ago to see that play in Madison. Tommy leads me further up the road where he takes a whiz on a stretch of hedges. A strong enough blast of wind and one of the thin metal ribs could give. My father’s umbrella doesn’t feel particularly sturdy. But for a moment it manages to morph itself into his house again, and then recedes back into the grey suburban background. Kyle got out of town around the same time I did-his parents sold the place not long after that. The olive-colored shingles were painted over with a coat of pale yellow years ago.
He hasn’t lived there in so long that it’s become anonymous like most of the other houses in the neighborhood. I’m not prepared to see Kyle’s house as we round the corner. Tommy, usually a bold Maltese, treads carefully around puddles and fallen branches. It’s only drizzling now at the northern edge of the county, but the wind’s picked up.
FOLIE A DEUX WINE ACME PATCH
Flash flooding in some parts of Morris County the Rockaway Reservoir spilled over onto a patch of Route 23 out by The Windlass. Big fat raindrops fell straight down, collecting faster than the earth could absorb.