The Leaves of Summer

The assignment given to me was to create a piece of prose after studying the following picture, entitled Pennsylvania Coal Town, by Edward Hopper:

And, without further adeu, here it is.

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The Leaves of Summer

It was summer of that year, and while all the other kids got to go stay home all day I had to go to school. I wasn't grown up like the rest of them, but that was okay, because that summer I made a friend.

Everyday when I walked home from school I watched how the trees in front of everyone's houses would be alive with color and flowin' in the wind. I remember one house with just one tree in it, and everyday there was a man outside rakin' up all those leaves that would lose their grip on the only branch they had, suddenly, and without warning. Well, I didn't have nothin' to do after school, so one day I walked on over to him and asked if he wanted some help.

'Why, that'd be lovely. Thank you.'

Mr. Carter was his name, and I wont forget it. We used to talk when I'd come over and help him rake up his leaves made of what I thought was all the colors of the rainbow. We talked about how his pretty leaves were never on his tree, and how we both liked to play kick the can, and how we liked to eat ice cream on a hot day, and how pretty the birds' singin' was. I'd tell him about how none of the other kids would want to play with me, and he told me how no one wanted to be his friend because he had darker skin than everyone else. I told him, 'Well, Mr. Carter, if you'll be my friend then I reckon I'll be yours,' and he smiled so bright, I thought the sun would have to move the clouds to compete! So we finished rakin', and he told me the next day we wont rake - he said we wouldn't have to. I didn't know what he meant, but I said okay.

When the next day came 'round I was walkin' home from school and stopped by Mr. Carter's yard like I always did and there he was, with a can in his hand and laughin' with his broken, jolly ol' laugh, and sure 'nough, all the leaves were already swept in a pile under the leafless, lifeless tree.

'I tell you what,' he said, pickin' me up and holdin' me up high. 'How's about we play a game.'

'Like what, Mr. Carter?' All he had to do was grin and I knew what was on his mind. We both shared an expression like we always did and at the same time said, 'Kick the can!'

Oh, we had so much fun that day. We played kick the can 'till we couldn't kick no more, then laid there in the grass among the leaves that seemed so much more colorful when Mr. Carter was layin' in them. Mr. Carter even said I was his best friend. I ain't never had a best friend before, but now that I did I sure was happy!

When it was time for me to go he stood me up straight and tall, tapped my nose, and told me, 'Now, you go on and get home, now. You don't wanna be gettin' in no trouble wit' your folks!' So I left, and i remember hearin' his jolly ol' laugh all the way down the street where my house was.