MYSTERY ISLAND

Mystery Island isn't mysterious. Mystery Island isn't even really much of an island. Mystery Island is (or was...I haven't been there in about 10 years) simply a large clump of willows and bushes surrounded by open water and dikes. Mystery Island was a place that my brother and I and various cousins and friends went to play when we were younger. To an adult mind, unversed in the wonders of Mystery Island, this clump of willows would be unremarkable and probably ugly and dirty. But to the kids who walked across that magical plank....Mystery Island was much more....much much more.

The trip to Mystery Island wasn't without a certain element of adventure. First one had to cross the barnyard..smelly, messy, and often with a mean bull or two to outrun. Crossing the barnyard involved climbing two very high fences, pausing at the top to look around and see if there was anything interesting to explore, and taking stock of what animals were present, so as to best plan the route. If we were thirsty, and no aggressive animals were present in the barnyard, we usually went to the water trough and got a drink from the artesian well that flowed into it. The water that flowed from the slime encrusted pipe tasted strongly of minerals, and was ice cold year round. It remains some of the best water I've ever had to this day. After negotiating the barnyard, the Island bound adventurer had to cross the first creek. This creek wasn't big..probably three feet wide at it's biggest, but it offered many chances for exploration and wonder...and a slip or two. The watercress that grew in that creek was always a welcome tangy snack, and as anyone knows, watercress is best straight from the creek. Next was a stretch of bumpy ground...small hills about one foot across and about one foot high. I'm not sure how these were formed, but to get across them, one either had to walk carefully between them, or jump from bump to bump. Of course, being a kid, I usually chose to hop from bump to bump. One thing that should be noted here....Mystery Island was located in a field we called the cow pasture. It was called that for obvious reasons....it was where we pastured some cows, often first calf heifers who were likely to have problems calving, or young bulls who weren't ready to be with the rest of the herd. We also often kept sheep there, usually the rams. All of these critters could be aggressive, and although the cow pasture was large (probably about 30 acres), if these animals spotted a child crossing the field, they were likely to come running..with evil intentions. Once you made it to the "bridge", however, you were ok. Ahhh the bridge. Mystery Island was surrounded by a deep swampy canal about 10 feet wide. What was in the canal wasn't exactly water, and it wasn't exactly mud. It was a kind of goo, a mixture of plants and soil and water and roots. It was dark and rich and smelly. It was strictly taboo to come home with it on your shoes or clothes. Someone had placed a ten inch wide board across the canal. It had sunk down into the goo, so it was halfway submerged. Over the years we carried various other boards down to try to improve the bridge, but that 10 inch board remained semi-visible above the mud, while all our additions were sucked down into the mire. To cross the bridge, you got ready, took a deep breathe, then ran like crazy, taking as few steps as possible on that slippery slimy board. If you were fast enough, and stepped lightly and surely enough, you could cross the board without incident. If you weren't.....well..you would end up thigh deep or worse in the smelly muck. Once across the bridge, however, the world was yours. You see, adults never came to Mystery Island. Animals hardly ever made the trip, as the whole of mystery island consisted of something we called bog. It was simply a mat of vegetation floating on a layer of mud. The ground on mystery island shook when you walked on it. The layer of roots and plants was about eight inches thick, and cow and horse hooves would break through, so they avoided the area. It was great fun to jump on some of the thinner ground, as the area around would shake and eventually break loose and thick oozing mud would surface around you. Mystery Island truly belonged to us children, and we turned it into pirate holdouts, bandit forts, hide and seek palaces, and in later years, a way for pre-teens with surging hormones to escape the younger kids. We created tunnels through the willows, platforms in the trees above, and campfire rings that never saw a flame. In truth, Mystery Island was only about a quarter mile from our house..close enough that my mom could call us to lunch with the dinner bell, but in our minds, Mystery Island was a different world. It was ours. In some strange way, Mystery Island will always be ours.