"Come Back to the Playhouse Mary Kay, Mary Kay"
Mary Kay AKA Kay Kay, Meica (or is it Meeka?), Jane, or just Kay. This unique little girl, pictured above on the left with her older sister Jeanne, had a quick wit about her even at that young age. She was a willing player in our back yard dramas whether it was a Tarzan and Jane plot where she and I were delegated to be the intruders who were killed right off the bat or a nun in our non-denominational church that was really Catholic due to the majority rules rule that even little kids know is THE rule of thumb. The section of Grove Street that was "ours" was frequented by the five 'regulars' and various visitors. At first, when we were very little, Jeanne, Kay, my cousin Butch, Charles from three houses up and myself were the main inhabitants of our back yard; the main characters in our make-believe games. As we grew older and more ingenious, we zeroed in on the playhouse as our clubhouse, our hideout, our hot dog stand, our tree house, our log cabin and anything else we could conjure up if called for in our stories. These plays weren't scripted but 'directed', usually by Jeanne, Butch or even Charles. When Kay and I played alone, I became the "boss" and I fear she never did get to be in charge of much of anything."Sleeping in the Playhouse Tonight."
That idea was a logical evolution for the three of us. We were neighbors, friends and loved pretending. We made tents from blankets over clotheslines; some of them were quite elaborate albeit hot. The playhouse, however, was heaven. The donation of two overstuffed chairs from Jeanne and Kay's mother was quite a useful addition. We had a small wicker couch and a play sized table and chairs in there already. Jeanne claimed the couch, Kay one chair and the other one was for me to sleep in. It didn't matter about the comfort of the things. Who cared about comfort? We weren't supposed to use candles and at the first sign of lightning we had to abandon ship, so said my mother, because, for sure. lightning would strike the big Oak tree hanging over the playhouse. It was held together by a chain so she could have been on to something with that thought. We tried to use lightning bugs for light but ended up with a flashlight and although forbidden, Jeanne would sneak a candle into our quarters. Only she could light the candle and it was kept on the table. We covered the windows so no light would show in the event that one of the parents should peek out to check on us. If they did that we never knew it as we were busy singing songs or telling stories or laughing over I don't know what. Did we know how lucky we were to have this little hut? Not until we grew up. We sang "Sleeping in the playhouse tonight" two or three times a week during those long summer days and nights. It was our signal to prepare for the evening. We would have our baths and come outside in our pajamas, ready for the adventure of being on our own. "Would it be like this when we grew up?" we wondered. Jeanne and Kay sang well together. I can only sing in one key and haven't found out which one it is yet. I thought they might become famous singers one day. Watching them made me sad that I never had a sister but then I had them, so I had an idea of what it was like. Later in our childhood their younger sister Rory was on the scene but she was not old enough to be one of us. Sometimes she tagged along with Kay and I as we were sidewalk skating or riding downhill in our wagons. We called her tagalong and she cried so one day we followed her and her little friend around showing her what it was like to be a pain. After that, Rory wasn't with us much. Across the street there was a rainhouse (now called a gazebo, I guess) where we went when pretending to be English ladies reading poetry. How nice of the people to let us walk up their side drive to play in that rainhouse. I doubt it occurred to them that if we got hurt our parents might take them to court. I don't think people thought that way in the fifties. Kay ran errands for the lady and one day I got to go in the house and she showed me around. We were both fascinated with big, old houses. There might be secret rooms or even secret steps to find. We had one such step in our house and in my aunt's house there were two secret rooms that weren't very secret but how exciting. While the playhouse was our home, we had to go to work somewhere so my front porch or the curb became the office for Kay and me. We brought chairs out to the curb where we sat with a pencil and paper in hand so we could write down the license plate number of each car that was lucky enough to pass. We were government agents, of course. One particular car 6HC1288 was driven by a cute, much older boy from up the street. He was way old, probably sixteen while we were still in the single digits or just coming out of them. We made a chant about that plate number that is why more than fifty years later I can still remember it. We used my grandfathers old car that sat in the back yard as our taxi, spaceship, limousine or boat (if we sat on the roof.) We sang songs on that roof. It's funny I could sing when someone else was singing but not so much on my own. Songs from the ten cent song books or from our memories; we must have been a royal pain in the neck to the spinster who lived in the house next door. She never said anything about our 'noise' but we were a bit intimidated by her and her spooky looking house. We imagined that someone was buried in her garden by the fountain but we never dug it up to find out.Marilyn and Jane
Since Kay was a brunette and I was a blonde, naturally, I had to be Marilyn and she was Jane. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes was the movie we were acting out. There were three songs that we could sing. We had gowns to wear that had come from a rummage sale and we would stand in front of the china cabinet in my dining room where we could see ourselves in our glamorous fashions. The piano was nearby although I had failed to learn how to play it to the point of reading music, it made a good backdrop. [It was also a good hiding place for any writing I didn't want my mother to see. Who would think to look inside the piano?] I was in charge of keeping the piano dusted and polished so it was pretty safe until my father was playing the piano one night. Whoops. My writing simply reflected my imagination which scared my parents as they read about some of the exaggerated escapades. I must have been convincing since I got talked to about it. Usually they were not too concerned with what I was doing because I was right there. There were times when Jane and Marilyn would lie in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night, waiting for a car to come up or down the hill. Once we saw where the lights were, we would get up and run behind a tree. We weren't really in danger as the lights of a car shone from quite far away and we were pretty quick. Also, we weren't likely to fall asleep while waiting for a car. Sometimes we had bathing suits on from being outside in a summer shower and one time, on a dare or because someone put something in my kool-aid, I took off my suit and lay there naked. Kay wouldn't have anything to do with that prank but laughed so hard she had to run to the bathroom. Jeanne wasn't a regular participant in these late night shenanigans because she chose to grow up during those years and many things became too childish (most of the time anyway.) Admittedly, Kay and I clung to our childhood for as long as we could. I don't remember when it all stopped. We all went to swimming lessons over the hill at the lake twelve miles away. My parents arranged somehow, to rent a place at that lake for part of each summer. Jeanne stayed with us for a few days but when it was Kay's turn my father had to take her home when it was time to go to sleep. I was surprised and never knew why she was afraid to be away from home. All those nights in the playhouse, in a tent or on my living room floor I guess she felt she was home because she could see her house if she looked outside. I wish it had never ended. Never, never. Those days and nights are the happiest memories I have of my childhood. There are no dark shadows lurking. I don't have to stop thinking so I won't get depressed or angry about something. Today, I wish I could turn the clock back. There are only two of us left now ---two left of the original five prime time players. My cousin Butch died thirty years ago, way before he should have. Charles, the boy three houses up the street died sometime in the 80's I think. He was only in the yard during the Tarzan skits, when he could be Cheetah or when he could be the priest in the church. He had a horse that none of us were allowed to ride. Unfortunately, he had some pretty serious problems in his childhood as well as all through his life. Jeanne called on Saturday to tell me that Kay had died the day before. No, that can't be what she said. Not Jane, please, not Jane. I was supposed to go long before she did. She didn't smoke or drink. She followed a vegetarian diet and looked fit. Lung cancer is what people get who have bad habits, nes pas? Can I blame second hand smoke from somewhere? No, I'm not a blamer. Jeanne told me the doctor said there wasn't a medical reason for her going down hill. What? No medical reason? Jeanne felt like poking the doctor in the eye with a sharp needle.
I have been hearing "Wind Beneath My Wings" in my head all day. Damn it Kay, you were supposed to be here until the twelfth of never. You're gone and now what? Phooey!!
