To Kick the Can

The air temperature begins to cool. The humidity is less than it was all day. The hours of swimming in the pool are finished for now. The day, however, is not over. A new segment of the day begins. It’s late evening, approaching dusk. The neighborhood urchins appear shortly after dinner is over.

From now until the streetlights come on. That is the window of time available to play outside, before all the parents get uneasy and expect all the kids to return to their own homes.

The game. To kick the can. Loosely formed teams and alliances, but everyone out to protect their own existence (and to prevent becoming a defender of the can). The starting defenders move into position near the can sitting in the open on the street. A designated person kicks the can and everyone scatters.

The exact logistics of the game are elusive as time has passed and details fade. What doesn’t fade is the memories of jumping over fences separating one yard from the next, and the smell of fresh cut grass while laying low trying to stay out of sight (but close enough to the can to possibly get close enough to kick it). Trying not to get in trouble by the neighbors (usually the neighbors without kids of their own) by tiptoeing through flowerbeds and/or vegetable gardens.

The streetlights come on according to a schedule set up by some adult that does not know the kids do not want to go inside yet. Another summer day is done.