When I was sixteen, I stayed home from high school for three weeks with the flu, then one day Mom took off from work and asked me to go to the store. I wanted to be outside, the air felt warm and smelled clean, but my ears felt closed. The street was empty of people and cars. Puddles had formed after a rain and I remembered skipping flat rocks across it when I was younger. Woods bordered each side of the road and I could spot snakes crawling or birds flying. I loved my childhood because of the friendly wildlife.

Turning the corner onto Hempstead Turnpike, I saw the auto body shop where my boyfriend’s brother worked. I spotted him with drill in hand ready to attack someone’s car. We were a year apart in school, but instead of finishing, he decided to work on cars.
“Hi Keith, you working hard?”
Startled, he looked up. “Hey, how are you? What are you doing home from school?”
“I’ve been sick. Today is my first day out. How’s Ed? Have you heard from him?”
“Yeah, Mom got a letter last week. He’s in Europe, says he’ll be home in a few weeks on leave. I better get back to work before they fire me. Hope you feel better.”
“Thanks, Keith.”

Further on, I passed the butcher shop, remembering when Mom sent me for soups bones. He’d give me a large chunk of bologna to snack on for my walk back home. Then there was Bernie’s, candy store where everyone gathered after a day at Elmont Road elementary school. I’d sit at the counter while Bernie made me chocolate egg cream soda’s and handed me one pretzel stick from a jar, all for $0.07. On the same side was the drug store, my brothers worked in, and the dentist upstairs. The A&P grocer was last on the block, right before Belmont Racetrack, where I peeked through the fence to watch the horses exercise. Across the street stood the movie theater where I spent Saturday afternoons, paying a quarter to see two shows, the news and a drawing for a prize, now costing $4.50 for one movie. At times, I’d taken the bus and subway to New York City to ice skate, go to a museum or just walk through Central Park.

Elmont has changed since I was sixteen but so have I. The town is over grown and crowded, housing every nationality known to man. Visiting this past summer, I stood on the street where I played stickball, ring-o-leavie-o, and sleigh riding. The hill doesn't seem as big now. I guess when we’re small everything looks big. I still have good memories of Elmont, like marrying Keith’s brother Ed, and raising children with him. But, the tears came when I saw the house that Dad built.

Rose Marie in Florida