I took my bike out of the old red barn and peddled hastily down Windemere Avenue. I watched all the houses fly by, but only had one goal in mind; making it to Danny's house. Daniel Murnane was one of my childhood best friends. Danny, Katie, Carl, Ric, my brother, and myself used to spend countles hours at Sippo park throwing stones into the pond located at the end of the bike trail. Little did I realize that the Monday before would be our last time down there, at the end of that old trail, throwing stones into that vast pond.
I couldn't believe that my parents sold the house. I had just told my friends that we were going to take the house off of the market. How could they want to sell that house? I have so many fond memories of holidays and other various get togethers. How could they want to leave all of this behind?
I kept peddling until I reached his house. I parked my bike in his yard and preceeded towards his front door. As I rang the doorbell, a huge pit formed in my stomach. What would he say? Would he be mad at me for moving? I rang the doorbell again, still no answer. I sat on his stoop for what seemed to be an eternity, then I heard my mom calling...
"Alison, dinner!"
I hopped back on my bike and peddled off.
The next day we packed the moving van and moved to the next city over. After our phone line was connected I immediately called Danny to ask him to come over and see our new house. His phone number had been disconected. I then called Katie and invited her over. It was then she told me that Danny had to move in with his Grandma.
I haven't spoken to Daniel Murnane since that Monday down at Sippo Park.
The summer of 1990 made me realize that memories are the only things that last forever.