Yesterday evening I was out weeding the path behind my house. Some kids were up to mischief in the field behind. A couple ran past me, not realising I was there as a witness to their possible planned scally-like behaviour. As they grouped with their friends I overheard one refer to me as “The Man”.
The Man. Capital T. Capital M. That ever present authority figure in the life of all young terraways. That almost godlike being who could at any minute appear and catch you doing whatever it is you shouldn’t be doing or being wherever it is you shouldn’t be.
I have memories of being in fear of The Man. Playing on building sites, or in fields… the danger of The Man adding excitement to our playtime. He might shout at us… or complain to our parents… or he might have a big dog or… or… A GUN!!!! He might be mad and eat little boys, or he might be a policemand or teacher who might make you join the army for stealing apples or lead off the church roof.
But now… I am The Man. How did this happen?
I’ve become that which I once despised.
Ah well. Being an ogre is fun sometimes.