Bookmobile

I think in images and had almost forgotten this one until I climbed on board a Bookmobile again several years ago, after a 20+ year hiatus. If I could paint, I would depict this image, but for now I am just left with the words to describe it.

Growing up, the bookmobile use to park at the end of our cul-de-sac in the dusk of summer. My mother loved books so she would drag me down to the bottom of our steep hill to climb aboard. I remember the scene perfectly now and often think of it as a postcard. We would hear the engine approach then cut off and down the hill we would walk to the immense bus, with its yellow lights streaming out from the inside. Those lights combined with the lightning bugs were our only guides. The sky was sinking into darkness and the trees were already outlined in black.

I think one of the only things I looked forward to as I boarded was seeing one or two of my neighboring best friends, Josh or Kevin aboard too. Once there, we would invariably find some books to check out and talk about Star Wars or some other childhood fascination. I was never a very good student, although I certainly tried hard enough. Reading did not come easily to me and I’m sure my mother was mystified at my lack of interest in books. A visit to the library was not a happy one for me. The only promise the bookmobile held for me was a chance meeting with my neighboring friends, and the lovely image of a lumbering bus in the warm, cool of a summer night.