My life as a Spy...

When I was around 9 years old, I went through a phase of hiding, for in my mind, I was a spy. As you know all good spies need to hideout. So I hid out as often as possible. No one really knew or cared, I think everyone thought I was just “busy” being a kid. Anyway, unaware of lurking dangers, I found the neatest hiding places and… wait for it… there is a story that goes along with each one.

“The Headboard Hideout”: While “exploring” under the bed my sister Kathy and I shared, I made a discovery. The back of the headboard was hollow. I ascertained this information as I crawled around under the bed and wiggled up into the unknown void. To my amazement, there was room enough to set up an extraordinary spy headquarters. All I needed now was to get organized! With each opportunity that presented itself, I would slip the supplies essential for a proper spy operation into the space. You know, the necessities, paper, pencils, tacks, tape, and of course snacks. By the time I finished a full fledge spy command center was born. Any chance I could I would slip away into my headboard hideout and write reports on the “Villain” of the day, which was usually one of my siblings.

“The Rooftop Retreat”: I would often climb up on the roof of the house and perch where no one could see me. This usually required moving around in stealth mode, but such was the life of a spy. This location allowed me to see the sugar cane and clover fields, the “main highway” at the end of our drive, and the old abandoned drive-in theater a field over from our house… a bird’s eye view of my world, how awesome it was.

“The Under the House Hideout”: This was a somewhat scary place, but fascinating nonetheless. Oh, the historical finds, an old soda bottle, a matchbox, broken glass, and the occasional snakeskin. I would crawl around listening to my family as they went about their daily activities. The footsteps, muffled voices, the sound of the broom swishing across the wood floors, and on occasion the most joyous sound for that time in my life, my mother fussing at one of my siblings and not me!

“The Clover Hideout”: This was one of the coolest! Our neighbor had a field of clover, I am not sure what it was really for, but My cousin David and I knew it was for us. We carefully tunneled in and pressed out a main space followed by several escape chambers. We spent many hours that summer evading the “younger ones” in the lush green. Not once did we think about all the little country creatures that most likely were “sharing” our space. But back then we would have embraced them, reveling in our discovery.

There were other hideouts, but you get the picture. I hate to admit that on occasion I would “spy” on my mother as she called my name. I am sure she heard me giggling from time to time but never let on. I never “spied” very long on her, that would just have been a bad idea, if you know what I mean…