When I was a kid, maybe six or seven, I remember there was this boy I used to dig holes with.

He was real quiet, and we were best friends for a few weeks I guess, but only at lunchtime, and only under the same tree.

We talked a lot, but like any childhood memory, the words aren't there and I feel like maybe they weren't ever there. Like I was looking through a dream, forgetting when I woke up. You know?

Anyway, the point is there isn't really a point. We were there to dig holes around the tree roots, but only ever using sticks. One time I think he used fingers and I told him 'you're cheating!'

I guess we got dirt everywhere, but that was okay because we were looking for something. It wasn't China, it was probably ants or worms or clay, and I wonder if we ever found it.

The teacher would make us stop when she saw us, so we'd fill the holes in real fast or try and hide them when she came by. I'm pretty sure she wasn't fooled, which is a shame because it ruined all our hard work.

I think being a kid is like being drunk, because I can't figure out how we got in that situation in the first place. I had other friends, so why was I ever there under that tree with that boy?

It doesn't matter, I guess, but one day I went back to the tree and he wasn't there. I don't know how it felt, all I know is I dug holes alone that day.

He could have been sick, and maybe if I'd gone back again he would have been there, but I didn't. We saw each other later, standing with our real friends, and smiled, but I think it wasn't long before it was gone. Like us and the tree and the holes were just swallowed up in forever.

I don't miss it, in fact the memory upsets me for whatever reason. I hate my childhood, and wish it wasn't there. I don't understand it, all those moments, the words and spaces that don't quite make up a whole. There's no order, no chronology, no earliest. And that makes me angry.

What are your memories?


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