There is Much to be Made

story of a young boy playing outside, in the front yard/driveway. he lives on a hill. the street curves up and around; out of sight. coming up from around the bend is a stream of water; sudsy. someone is washing their car up the hill. the boy cannot see the source. be begins to collect leaves/small branches/dirt from beside the garage. he means to dam the water. make small pools out of it along the curb; a play land. he is moderately successful. the water's flow is constant. it braids and twists as it goes downhill. sometimes runs clear; sometimes runs sudsy. the day ends when the water stops flowing or when the water increases and washes the dam away. trickle can be heard as water falla into the storm drain/gutter. it echoes. the space is hollow. large enough for a small boy to play in. he peers down into the gutter. sees tennis balls/ frisbee/ coke cans. a car comes down the hill. its engine is loud. the boy jumps out of the street and up the driveway and past the gate into his backyard. He hides behind the house's air conditioning unit. the fan blows and spins in great, hot gusts; musses the boy's hair. he watches as the car passes; a large brown truck. it clanks and rumbles. The boy wants to return to his stream, but does not. he watches from a distance, not wanting to be seen. someone knows of his dam. his city has been found/tarnished. he picks up a rock and throws it in the direction of the dam. it flies over the low gate and into the street, missing the dam. it ricochets into the street and into a small patch of daisies in the neighbor's yard. the boy is satisfied. he has made his peace. he goes inside the house intent on reciting his afternoon.