The ancient house with the wildly overgrown garden is silent and secretive. It has been over fifty years since I lived in this town. I lived on Fellowship Road. My backyard faced Wilke’s backyard.

I can’t believe that this house is still standing, mostly intact. As I peruse my childhood memories from the early 1950’s, I remember Wilke’s house looked decrepit then. I  simply can not understand how it still exists. Everything around it has changed. Almost all the homes on Poplar Avenue have either been replaced by newer homes or updated and look unrecognizable.

I have such wonderful memories of sitting under our Willow tree on a hot Summer’s day reading a Nancy Drew mystery. Dreaming about my distant future when I too could become a famous female detective and solve crimes.

Occasionally while I was reading, Mrs. Wilkes would beckon me from her yard. There was shrubbery between Wilke’s backyard and ours that served as a fence that divided the two properties. But I could hear her calling out my name, “Sandy come over here. I have something to give you.”

And I would jump up and run over up to the bushes. And she would be standing there with her toothless smile and her shining, green eyes. Her long gray hair would be braided and wrapped around her head. Sometimes she would braid a blue ribbon in her braid. Occasionally she would add a rose or daisy from the garden she had in her backyard. I thought she was beautiful.

On this particular afternoon, she said to me, “Sandy would you do me a favor and taste this chocolate cookie for me? I have trouble chewing them. And I want to make sure they taste good. My grandson, Francis is coming to stay with us for the summer.”

“Sure, I would be happy to taste it.” She held out a cookie to me in her crooked and gnarled hand. I took a huge bite. “I think this is the best cookie I’ve ever had. Francis will like it. I can’t wait to meet Francis.”

I love looking at Mrs. Wilke’s backyard. The Wilkes spend almost all their free time working outside in the garden whenever the weather is warm. On the other side of the hedges, they planted a rose garden that follows a winding path throughout their back yard and continues into their front yard. There are over fifty different kinds and colors of roses. I know because one day, Mrs. Wilkes asked me if I would like to come into her backyard and smell all her beautiful roses. The aroma was overwhelming. And bees and butterflies are always visiting her garden.

On her side of the bushes, there are morning glories that bloom all summer. Early in the morning, I would run out to the bushes in the backyard to see what color the morning glories were that day. And I would pick one and give it to my mother.

My mother would put it in a glass of water and place it on the kitchen window windowsill. They are my favorite flowers. But the most beautiful thing in her garden was an ancient Weeping Willow tree that stood twenty feet taller than their old house. Mrs. Wilkes told me that it was planted by Mr. Wilkes’s grandfather, and it was the oldest tree in our town.

I love visiting Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes because they always had time to listen to me. They would sit quietly while I told them one of my stories. The summer that their grandson Francis spent there was one of the greatest summers I ever had. Francis was about ten years old, and he had bright red hair with freckles sprinkled across his face. His ears stuck out on either side, and the other kids used to make fun of him. He had the same beautiful green eyes that his grandmother had.

I spent the entire morning that Francis was supposed to arrive sitting in my backyard and reading a book. Somehow I know that Francis is going to become my best friend. I keep looking up from my book. it’s a Nancy Drew book called The Clue From The Old Wall. And it was really exciting. Nancy was protecting a treasure that was hidden in an old wall from thieves. I love reading Nancy Drew’s books because girls are hardly ever portrayed as heroes in all the books I read.

I’m having a hard time concentrating because I keep looking over at the Wilke’s to see if their decrepit old pickup truck is pulling into their dirt driveway. Their truck is so old that all the paint had been worn off by the rain, snow, and wind. But somehow I believe it is the most beautiful truck I’ve ever seen.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, I hear them coming down Poplar Avenue. I know it’s them because I could hear their truck before I see it. It backfires every couple of minutes. It sounds like it is on its last legs, but somehow it keeps going just like the Wilkes. They pull into their driveway and slowly descend from their seats. I see a red-headed boy jumping down out of the bed of the truck with a small suitcase. That is being held closed by what looks like an old belt.

I practically jump over the bushes and manage to get scratched from head to toe. But I don’t care. I run through their backyard and up to the front. I’m yelling at the top of my voice, “Francis, your here, your here.” He looks over at me with a surprised look on his face. Because he doesn’t know who I am and how I know his name. I see the Wilke’s beautiful, wrinkled face transformed by their ear-to-ear smiles. I run over to Francis and give him a squeeze around his waist. His face turns red, but he is still smiling.

Mrs. Wilkes says, “Francis, meet your new best friend, Sandy. She lives on the other side of our backyard, and she has been waiting impatiently for you to arrive. Francis looks at me with a shy grin on his face and says,” Hi Sandy, I’m happy to meet you.”

I look at him and say,” we’re going to have so much fun this summer. We can go swimming at the pond, ride bikes and go downtown to the shops. Especially the bakery. I just love donuts, do you? And we can roller skate on the sidewalk. And we can go to the clay pits and dig for fossils. You’ll love it here. I can hardly wait for the 4^th of July. We can go downtown and ride our bikes behind the band and throw candy at everyone along Main Street. And you can meet all my other friends that live on Fellowship Road. Not to mention all my friends from school. This is going to be a great summer, you’ll see. I said this all in one breath without stopping. Francis had a huge smile on his face now, and so did the Wilkes. Oh, I almost forgot we can go to Schucks to buy penny candy. I love candy so much. And they have a jute box in there. And we can watch all the teenagers dancing. Oh, I almost forgot, on Saturdays we can go to the movies at the Roxy theater. It’s right on Main Street. It only cost a quarter. I bring my lunch with me, Lebanon Bologna and cheese. I’ll bring two, one for me and one for you.

Mrs. Wilkes laughs out loud and say’s,” doesn’t that sound great, Francis?”

“Oh, I almost forgot, there is also a bus that picks kids up at the front of the police station and takes us to the Riverside skating rink. You can rent skates if you don’t have any and skate all day for fifty cents. I always fall down about a million times. But I don’t care. It’s fun.”

Francis looks at me and then turns around and looks at his grandparents and his eyes are as big as saucers, and his smile is from ear to ear. He says, ‘can we go downtown I would love to see it. I live out in the country, and there isn’t much to see there except blueberry farms.”

“How about bringing your suitcase into the house and getting settled and having something for lunch? I made homemade chicken noodle soup, and I can make grilled cheese sandwiches. You’re invited to Sandy, but go ask your mother first?”

“Oh, I’m sure she won’t care.”
“Go ask first. All the same, Sandy.”
“Alright, I’ll go ask. I’ll be right back.”

And in less than five minutes, I was knocking at their back door. I had never been inside their house before. My house was about fifteen years old. But their house was old, really old. They used to have a farm, but they sold the land to the church when they stopped farming. The church made the land into a parking lot.

And that day was the beginning of the best summer of my whole childhood. Francis and I became best friends. And we kept in touch for many years. And then, in 1969, Francis got drafted into the army, and he was sent to Viet Nam. It was one of the saddest days of my life when I heard he got killed there. His grandparents had passed away years before that. I was always glad they didn’t have to face the loss. After that first summer, he spent every summer until he was about sixteen when the Wilkes passed away one right after the other.

And now, here I am, visiting my old neighborhood, and I swear I can see Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes smiling out at me from their porch. I feel tears pooling up and running down my cheeks. I smile back at them and they wave goodbye to me, and then they’re gone. I turn away and walk past the house where I lived my entire childhood and where strangers live now. And I think I was the luckiest kid in the world. I had a wonderful childhood, especially after Francis and I became best friends. The Wilkes and Francis will always live in my heart and my memory.

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