The coffin fell off the truck around lunchtime. The kids waited to see if anybody came back to claim it. At four, they pushed it off the hill. Their hoots and hollers masked the sound of the wooden box barreling down the incline. It came to rest very conveniently near the makeshift soccer field.

Now, when the boys played cowboys and indians they put the dead in the coffin. It was big enough to hold two medium size boys or 3 small ones. Timmy, since he was chubbier than most, got to go in it by himself.

Someone got the bright idea to steal a measuring tape from his mom’s craft drawer. Before every duel the mortician measured each cowboy, calling out the measurements to his assistant who would diligently scribble the numbers down on a little notebook, after licking the tip of the pencil stub. The other children believed this to be a very authentic move and they approved.

On rainy days they threw a big piece of plastic over the coffin so it wouldn’t warp. It wasn’t every day that a coffin was dropped by the side of the road.