The World According to Tarp

By Al Horn

When I was eleven years old my father brought something unusual home. He was driving down the street when a big, canvas tarp fell off the back of a flat bed truck in front of him. He came to a stop and waited for the driver of the truck to pull over and come back for it. The driver hadn't noticed. My father, the good Samaritan he was, pulled over, jumped out of his pick-up truck, then gathered up the tarp with the intent of throwing into his trucks bed. The fact that he had to unlock the camper shell caused him to take longer to accomplish his task. By the time he got back into his truck, the flat bed driver was long gone. Not knowing who to return it to, he decided to keep it.

My brothers and I discovered his find tucked into our shed a week or so later. That was when my father pulled it out to cover a car that was suddenly parked on the side of our house. It belonged to a man trying to hide it from his wife during a divorce. Out of sight, out of mind? That lasted for a few weeks then the car disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. The tarp was banished to the shed, again.

A few weeks later, school let out and the weather got warmer. At the time, my parents didn't own a tent like most of friend's parents. Many families were setting them up in their back yards in preparation for summer outings. That meant sleepovers in other kids yards. I got the bright idea to pull the tarp over one my mom's clotheslines. The tarp itself was sixteen feet long by ten feet wide. It made a perfect poor mans tent. It was a hit with the other kids.

We didn't have to worry about getting yelled at for spilling Kool-Aid on the floor. Our floors were old blankets; easily washed. The open ends made getting in and out easy. As long as somebody had a can of Off, we didn't have to worry about bugs. It didn't hurt that mom always baked cookies for the fearless campers. The only catch was that we had to pull it down the next morning so mom could hang clothes out. My father was cool with us using the tarp.

Beings he worked a rotating shift and would be home during the day some weeks, we could get an instant answer on making use of this versatile piece of fabric.

"Hey, dad, can we use the tarp for a sunscreen while we sell lemonade in the front yard?"

"Sure."

"Hey, dad, can we use the tarp as a runway for washing kids bicycles for two cents?"

"Sure."

It was amazing how many kids came around to have their bikes washed for a mere two pennies. Once business died down, someone got the bright idea of using it for a Slip-and-Slide. The worst rug burn I ever had did not compare with the marks on my arms, shoulder and back after I dove onto that tarp. I hurt for weeks! The funny part was that everybody had to try it just once to see what all the fuss was about. We were one motley crew after that affair.

We found other uses for the tarp and my father let us have free reign. Come the middle of summer we were in the back yard walking around on it when somebody decided to pull up on one end abruptly. Instead of spilling kids every which way, it ripped. We were stunned. It was as if a hole suddenly appeared in the ground and had sucked in all of our bicycles. The loss was so sudden and so incomprehensible. In an instant, despite our young ages, we knew it was the end of an era, our childhood's end, and an atrocity worse than wetting the bed.

My little sister began to cry. Everyone started yelling at the boy who had pulled on it. That lasted for about thirty seconds. I was the last one to sound off before I noticed the others had gone quiet. I turned and saw my mother standing on the porch.

She came out, looked at the tarp, then told us all to stay put. She went inside and got a pair of shears. She cut the tarp into a dozen pieces and handed every kid there a piece. She handed me the last one. I followed her into the house, not knowing what to say. My father was at work at the time. I asked her what we would tell him.

"Your father won't care," she said. "Do you know how much money we have spent on toys for you and your brothers and sister just to watch you play with it for one day then toss it into a corner? Your father didn't pay a dime for that tarp and it has kept you and half this neighborhood entertained for the last two months. He got the better end of the bargain when he picked it up off of the road. And it's not gone. You and those other kids will find uses for the pieces that are left."

She was right. Those twelve pieces of canvas were seen all over the subdivision for the next couple of months. They were used as bike covers and parking mats. One girl used hers as a shawl. Me, I rolled mine up and tossed it into the back of my sock drawer. It stayed there for several years until I came home from school one day to see my two year-old brother using it for a cape to play superhero. Why not? It had proved to be virtually indestructible.