in town for whatever reason . i remember i had lived nearby. the house was much smaller than now i remember. the tree had been taller, somewhat to the left. I had gathered gold catkin medallions in a small crooked tin. and the "hill" in the backyard now needed scare quotes. i both wonder and wondered how my step-father skied down a “hill” while i watched from the kitchen window. I hadn’t called him “step-father” til recently. it was here i had pointed at my first pun: our dog, digger, digging the earth at the base of the fence covered with honeysuckle. in the garden surrounded by greased railroad ties, later i dug a hole by myself. and i think i remember the small melted crayons in the wood play fort, the wax leaking both-ways, the paper still still. my small brother, I thought. he was going to die when he locked the car doors. somehow they squeezed a popsicle through the crack in the window. standing on the driveway, i had looked at the stop sign and heard my mom mention i was allergic to oranges, like she was when young. on the porch, i had saluted the flag, the only time I remember that much. was it here at this house that my mother had cut me trying to give me a haircut, where she had had my blood on her hands. hmm, had had: combining the simple and perfect pasts. simple and perfect pasts. hmm. pasts. it was here my mom had screamed at my brother’s stream of pee shooting up into her face while he wriggled around the changing table. but was I remembering this or imagining this because my mom had told the story so many times. had I ever used the laundry room, the dining room, my parent’s room. their bathroom barely a light i can see reflecting down into their bedroom as if i had peered down the hallway. our cat, elvis, had single-clawed out the dehydrator a hunk of homemade beef jerky, we had suspected, still do. our reflection in the window had been a camera for our cooking show. my sister and i pretending foreign accents, teaching how to precisely mix chocolate syrup and vanilla ice cream with spoons. my mother had weaved pretzels onto a ribbon. our dog ate them off the christmas tree. my step- sister left with her mcdonald's playset that used wonderbread for fries. i had worn silk dresses just to slip across the wood floor, for fun, and everyone had laughed. it had been my sister’s or my arm that rammed through the glass pane of the basement door. no one had been cut. i had nightmared beetlejuice chasing me down the street with a couch he was pushing at me. my step-father bought a supernintendo. I had watched him set it up. I had bit into stretch-arm-strong’s arm. the goo was sweet. I had tried to sleep like a bat from my bunk bed. I was the only one that slept in the bunk bed. unable to sleep, I had put a penny in the socket. it sparked so much I didn’t look at it until morning. I wasn’t hurt, just so scared that I gave it room to breathe, waited for the smoke to clear. i had looked down the lane wondering which was my friend’s house. i look down the lane still wondering which was my friend’s house. where was the boy now, who had asked me if i wanted to wear his mother's underwear. he had told me the pink power ranger was his favorite. i look for the barrel in the neighbor’s side- yard that i pissed in. if i had known the word piss at my age, i would have wanted to use that word. I thought or I had thought the walk to school was five blocks away. I walked two blocks and was there. the school i attended, i see now, has been razed to the ground and replaced. i remember nothing about it, only, maybe, a teacher pushing a cart of plants down the hall.