New Friend Friday #25

New Friend Friday #25

It’s opening day at Holland and the troops are marching in. I’ve been down there a lot in the past three days, getting the place spic and span for the big day and I had the chance to meet a lot of neighborhood people. My ultimate favorite is the family in the old and simple house next to Holland. It seemed more than appropriate to use this New Friend Friday to get to know the neighbors.

You might think you are somewhere in the midwest when the dust from the ReTrac parking lot blows plastic bags into the barbwire fence separating Holland from three nearby houses. These houses were built in 1917 and are all identical. The wood was carted the long leg down from Virginia City and reassembled much to the same state it is in now. Which is shambly. But to Curtis, Kyle, Samantha, and Rick Anthony this is home.

Troy is the blond-haired young father trying to maintain the insanity at the house. A trampoline with a black net is pushed to the back corner of the house and plastic slices and pink-wheeled trucks litter the front yard. The mother, who’s name slips me now, gets home and uses her minivan to push and consolidate the toys into a small area. Kyle starts screaming and his little brother Curtis goes running for help. He’s holding his mouth and blood is slowly filling his mouth like an unattended hose in a kiddy pool. Troy comes running for his boy and tears him a piece of t-shirt to put in his mouth and absorb the blood. Kyle just put a hole the size of a peso in his tongue. It seems accidents of this scale happen everyday here.

It’s later now. The sun is giving off the last of its golden light. Rick Anthony, the oldest is inside having dinner with his dad. The other three kids are lined up on their make-shift stoop having meat, corn, and some unidentifiable fruit. They tell me how Rick Anthony plays some instument like the trumpet of flute or something. They add that he is not very good yet. Kyle’s tongue stopped bleeding and the scene has a sort of prairie home companion type of feel.

I think to myself, “Where am I?”
Clearly this can’t be Reno. I let myself time warp in this weird moment, convincing myself I’m in Indianapolis or Peoria or some place with fresh apple pie for 75 cents. But all the clues are there to lead me back into that certain geographical knowing and I’m relieved to feel lost in my hometown again. So I hope to see you all today and don’t forget to say hi to this weeks NFF’s, Troy, Samantha, Curtis, Kyle, and Rick Anthony.

Love,
erik