Life in a Thrashing Machine | Page 9

he recalled that he had become bored soon after going outside, but then wasn't able to get back into the house. His folks were playing around with him and they did not let him back in until he became hysterical, outside, in the cold.
Maybe that was why he now hated cold weather, or at least he wondered if that was one of the reasons. He also has had some good times in cold weather and snow, so there had to be other reasons for his dislikes but he didn't care to concentrate his daydreams on that, right now. He was finally becoming calm, again, and with this new easy feeling, he began to play some music, right from his heart and soul. It was music that was like a wispy breeze propelling a dandelion seed into another universe and like pure, fresh water falling over a cliff that was a mile high. He was almost in a trance now and he wasn't aware of where he was or what he was doing. Through force of habit, he reached over with his left hand and turned-on his tape recorder, to record, and continued to play; perhaps to dream.
There were the times that Vlad had composed some of his best and most emotional music. He was never fully aware that he was the one that was playing the music; therefore, he had conditioned himself to engage his recorder whenever he felt the sensations of him slipping away.
The music that he was playing was slow and methodical and brought to his mind more images of his childhood.
He saw himself climbing up the barrel platform that his father had built behind the garage, for storing gasoline. During the hot summer days in the Manitoba sun, Vlad used to play atop those barrels. Imagination and pretend, were the order of those days. He saw himself as the King, sitting on a grand throne above all the people of the world-so was the design of the barrel platform. Seven steps lead up to the platform that had two large barrels on either side of a smaller one. They were even painted in silver to reflect the scorching rays of the prairie sun, even though gasoline was rarely kept within them.
To Vlad, this indeed was a real throne and his kingdom was one of plenty and fullness. He remembers feeling happy and safe.
At the beginning of the third summer of the platform's standing, Vlad suffered through his first coup. He sat at one of the upstairs windows of the house and tearfully watched, as his father and brothers ripped the wood off the platform's frame, to be used in the future as material for fencing the garden.
Vlad had begun school when the platform was built and many of his newly-made friends came over to his house, to play. In Loretta, Vlad appeared to have a strange power over the other children with whom he played. Whenever the kids came around to play, there was an actual respect, for his dominance, offered-up by them.
The majority of the children, including Vlad, spent many late afternoons watching their favourite television shows. Sometimes, when they were all together after a long day of hard playing, they would all go into Vlad's house and they'd sit around and watch Roger Moore's IVANHOE and the HERCULES cartoon. Children learned quickly and shortly after the programs were aired, Vlad and the other Lorettan children began to construct swords and shields. They used old pieces of wood and some cardboard. Vlad's kingdom was armed and ready for any conquest.
During the summer of 1965, Loretta Manitoba saw the rise and the fall of a medieval dynasty, ruled by seven year-old-boys. What was surprising, though, was that those children had followed codes of chivalry with the town's girls. During that same summer there was not a single boy, or girl, that hadn't exchanged their first kiss. A few of the boys, which Vlad was but one, had managed to get a kiss from each and every one of the prettiest girls. This was a great discovery. It was an uncharted land of mystery that paid-off in the biggest way. Later, they had managed to incorporate it, one way or another, into every game they played.
Through his early years on the prairie, Vlad had learned much about the way people thought and behaved. He had developed some close friends but he had also developed a few fiery adversaries that felt threatened by being subordinate to him. It was Vlad's nature, as a child, to take charge of whatever happened, during the games. He had noticed that when given the chance to initiate the playing, his adversaries just sat around and picked their noses while they tried to figure out some new kind of game.
Vlad, however, always intervened after