The seeds of discontent were sowed early in the house I lived in. My older sister and I were always scheming to break free from the oppressive yolk of our masters. How dastardly were my mother and step-father? I don't remember. Why were things so bad? Probably because I was a malcontent from birth. The only crime I can really attribute to my parents at this point in my life is that they were poor.
As a pair of kids under 6 living in rural Arkansas there wasn't much going on in the wider world. TV was less than eight channels and nothing viewable for kids during the week. Newspapers were for more affluent folks than we. The wide world was four towns...for us.
What made my sister and I decide, one early morning, that it was time to carpe diem and in futuro habebimus? More than likely I had caused strife in the meager family home and after receiving punishment of house arrest, which effected my sister as well, we needed a prison break. Thus, we planned our exit time, provisions, escape route, and statement of purpose upon capture that could earn us release back to the wild.
The morning was waning and so was our time for departure. We collected a few toys for our pockets and then headed to the kitchen. According to our unified vision for provisions we needed three Miracle Whip sandwiches and so we assembled them and wrapped them carefully in a napkin.
Out the screen door into the front yard we went. I remember standing by the large black oak tree at the yard's edge looking down the old road leading downhill towards the Great Went. Cars came along the road by our house as often as horse carriages did eighty years before. Two kids walking down this passage were as safe if they were walking in their backyard. As we peered over the vast open awaiting us it seemed important to eat one of the sandwiches now in order to gain strength and mettle. My sister opened the napkin and tore the sandwich in twain, almost. A quick look at the jagged pieces and one side long glance at me she handed me the smaller one. Survival dictates such behavior and even now, after all these years, I can only nod in understanding at her sense of self preservation.
We dined in silence.
Under the shade of the oak tree we looked down the barrel of the future and felt determined that our happy fates would be found somewhere else other than in the house of our parent's oppressive regime. What young child needs punishment?! What world is made better through poverty?! Love isn't enough to win the hearts and minds of these two intrepid adventurers. Off we set.
Our little feet began marching down the road close to the edge near the nettles and bramble. A field to our left stretched off in to the blue and a stand of trees would eventually turn green as we neared them but were almost azure as this point in our journey. My sister talked on and on about all the wrongs that we would right, the pain that we would vanquish like so many dragons. I agreed and reinforced the thoughts and emotions as I opened the napkin and pulled out the second mayo sandwich. I explained that I was eating "my" sandwich and the third was just for her.
There was doubt in her eyes.
There was lie in mine.
The strength of our bond and the fortitude we assigned to this journey wavered like quicksilver.
Our pace slowed as I ate. My sister relinquished me of the last sandwich and carried the wrapped package for a few minutes before eating the last sandwich.
We had come to a reckoning of our inaugural expedition. Within ten minutes of walking we had lost our provisions, trust, and vision. Words were exchanged assigning blame and explaining next steps. I was resolute in continuing on and asking help of friendlies encountered along the way. My sister, older and wiser, demanded we abandon this quest and return home. We could remake sandwiches and plan again, maybe abandon everything and resign ourselves to a life of mediocrity.
There on the side of the road, on a sunny day, we made a dead reckoning of how far we made it from the house and whispered that one day soon we would make it further.
Home we marched.
Our stay at home mom was still in bed and not a wink was missed while we ran away.
Weeks later we tried the whole abdication again, but this time with honey sandwiches which would not only last longer but offer more energy.
We made it to the stand of trees before eating all four sandwiches and returning home.
One more flight was made from that humble home in the Ozarks. It failed like Magellan's attack on Macatan.
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