How can I play on the other
side of the street? And, this
one girl thinks she’s better
then all the rest, because she
has the biggest driveway.
We have a corner lot!
Sometimes a little girl shows
up next door and I am allowed
to visit her, play with her – and
listen to the lady with the big
mouth. The little girl, she has
the same games as me and she
piles them on top of the ladies
old table – it tips – as she reaches
“Draw a player but close your
eyes – tight, and don’t peek,”
the little girl visiting told me. . .
I said, “I won’t peek, and I’m
happy to be here and love Clue.”
I said this without a smile – my
head lowered like when the
girls jumping rope in the big
driveway shoo me away.
For some reason I always end
up being Mrs. Peacock, and I
always carried a knife.
The man across the street, he was
never home and he never told a
soul when he would return – one
of the boys told another boy – I
only have little boys on my side
of the road – that he goes to jail
and stays and comes home and
then, goes back.
So he was the guilty one when it
came to Clue – he was the one
with the gun – you see – I imagine
a man in jail had to have a gun,
maybe a mask like a bad man?
The fancy lady on the block had
to have a candlestick – she was
the lady with the big front yard.
I never see her – and they do drive
in and out of that long drive way
but she never looks, or waves.
She had to own a candle stick. . .
The butler – well he lives on
another block; across the street
near the big street next to the
big market where a lady plays
with a big cash register. Mama
told me my cash register holds
pennies for penny candy.
So, the butler must carry all
the brown bags out of the big
market for the people who shop
inside. . . he has a uniform too
and it’s black and white. I guess
all big markets have butlers.
Well, I am tired of Clue and tired
of the little girl – telling me what
to do – like the lady with the big
mouth. I tell the lady I am leaving
and she watches me walk down
the inside staircase, and I promise
not to touch the walls.
Our front porch is big – bigger
then the girl with the driveway –
on the other side of the street. I
play on our porch with Mama –
she is picking weeds. I sit next
to a metal box where milk is kept
and I lift the lid – the milk is gone
but my paper dolls look at me –
and they talk – we all get along.