Under the bridge

“It’s almost 6 o’clock” I exclaim! Pushing past my twin sisters on the stairway I hurry into my bedroom at our newly rented duplex. I sink into the thick plush carpet in front of our Panasonic boom box and turn the radio to C95 for the top six at 6. For a country girl thrust into the thriving metropolis of Saskatoon; having access to radio stations was a glimpse of freedom and choices that only a few months before had been something you read about in books, not experienced firsthand.

I tear open the package on the red maxwell cassette and gingerly open the plastic case to reveal the stickers one carefully placed over the top face of the cassette. After neatly labelling my name on the white sticker I press the eject button and insert the cassette ribbon side on the left.

The radio announcer is something of a local celebrity and I keenly listen for my favourite song. Yesterday it was number 6 but there’s no telling what order it will show up on the air today. I expertly hover both index fingers over the play and record button ready to make my first tape.

For the first time in my 12 years I am able to build something from nothing of my own choosing and taste. Boop doop doop, the guitar echoes through the speaker and I press the play and record buttons. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t have a partner” croons Anthony kedis.

Headphones over my ears I pop the jack into my yellow Sony sport Walkman and hit play. My freshly curated mix tape spreads a grin over my face from ear to ear. The scent of budding leaves and fresh cut grass permeates the spring air, I grab my bike and hurl myself into the seat. I grasp ahold of the Dewey bars and propel myself forward in a mad dash to get to Blair’s. She and Riley lay sprawled out on her front lawn waiting on the rest of our party. Kirsten and Preston are hot on my heels. We do a quick consolidation of water and sandwiches into two backpacks and head out on our journey.

It’s not a short ride but we are prepared. Helmets on, we ride single file down Taylor street finally turning north towards the sprawling riverbank. The ride takes the better part of the morning but before long we are weaving through the trails adjacent to the river. We pull up to the broadway bridge and dismount. Beaming smiles adorn our chubby faces as we revel in the glory of our long ride. Locking up our bikes to the chain link fences designed to keep foot traffic away from the undersides of the bridge. As Preston keeps watch we deftly scale the fence to reveal a new forbidden world.

We scale the sidewall of the bridge to reveal the underbelly of arches. Graffiti speckles the concrete with patterns and phrases that our young minds spin around trying to wrangle the true meaning. Cigarette butts and empty bottles line the arches spelling out a different world. One that comes to life after dark. We perch in the center of the bridge, the steady hum of cars streaming above our heads. As our group of gargoyles perch in a circle, eating sandwiches and drinking in the devious nature of the days activities we all begin to sing. “I don’t ever want to feel, like I did that day. Take me yo the place I love take me all away”

Under the bridge downtown I gave my life away and this is where I stay.