Being free-range children, my cousin, Bobby, and I were always trying to entertain ourselves. This could often mean the destruction of something, but it also sometimes meant we created things. Our resources were limited to dirt, weeds, the occasional shrubby tree, and the various things we could scrounge from the junk pile. Our location included acres and acres of flat overgrown land, gravel roads, shell roads, and ditches. Of the buildings we could use, were the barn at my house and, if we were careful to keep hidden, the woodshop at Bobby's house. The nearest store, a corner convenience store, was a mile away but we rarely had any money so we never considered it in our plans. There was just exactly the right amount of raw material balanced against limited resources to inspire us to ever-growing heights of imagination and creativity.
I especially remember one day when we created something unusual. It began just as any other summer day with the two of us scrambling for something to do that involved shade. On this day we stopped in at my uncle's shop and found a particularly nice bit of fine sawdust. To the uninitiated, sawdust was sawdust, but to the true connoisseur, sawdust came in a startling number of varieties. Part of this was due to the type of wood being processed. Oak sawdust was different from pine sawdust which was different from cedar. The differences also came from which saw was being used as some cuts made a rather rough grade sawdust and other blades produced a finer texture. The sawdust we discovered that day was as fine as powder.
After running our fingers through it we decided to see if we could make clay out of it. Why we wanted to use the sawdust instead of the tons of black gumbo soil around us that would easily mix to make a pasty glop is a mystery, but that is what we decided to do. Water was a complete failure. Although the sawdust felt powdery, it was still wood and floated on the water, refusing to mix. Then my cousin found a container of white glue that had been leftover from a wood crafting project. The top of the glue was rubbery and hard, but the glue was still liquid beneath and there were about three cups total.
We mixed some of the glue with the sawdust into a bowl and this created a wonderful development. We found that the combination created an oval exterior 'skin' that when squeezed would break open to form new oval shapes. All of it had the texture and feel of bread dough. The entire mixture would expand outward if left alone for even a few moments. The reaction did not get hot, nor did it release a toxic smell. It was marvelous to hold the shapes and feel them expand in our hands. We forgot all about using the sawdust for modeling clay. The mixture itself became the goal.
Since the mixture seemed to move and expand on its own, we took this as a sign of life and felt inspired to name our new glue creature. We called it Duke. For several more minutes from Duke's inception, it continued to expand and respond to being squeezed. But eventually, Duke slowed down. We, the puzzled parents became increasingly desperate at this development. We tried several things and found that adding more glue not only revitalized Duke but also increased its size. In addition, the more glue we added the faster the response of expansion. We found we could squeeze Duke into smaller baby Dukes which would then reform back into a solid blob.
I took one of the baby Dukes and started a second batch in another bowl which we named Duke 2. Now we were very busy. Through trial and error, we found that we had to have just the exact right amount of sawdust to glue ratio to keep the reaction at its peak. Unfortunately, soon we began to run out of raw materials. The pile of fine sawdust was running very low and we were almost out of glue. Desperate to keep this new life alive I began to use coarser sawdust on Duke 2 and added the last of the glue. This did not produce the right result. Duke 2 stopped being a light buoyant creature and became a thick sullen dough baby. It also turned strange colors probably due to the oil from the coarser sawdust.
As I was contemplating how to rescue Duke 2 from its demise, Bobby disappeared only to reappear with more glue. " Where did you get this?" I asked. " I found it," he reported with glee. We decided to concentrate our efforts on the first Duke, adding in more glue and using the last of the fine sawdust. The results were amazing. Duke was now about as big as a basketball in diameter. The texture was glorious and the mixture seemed to pulse with life. We also located some more of the fine sawdust around the base of one of the saws. I added it in and Duke grew even larger. Bobby disappeared again returning with even more glue. "Where..." I began, but we were interrupted by the sound of my uncle's car pulling into the driveway. We had been so absorbed in our Frankensteininan efforts many hours had passed and Bobby's father was home from work.
"Quick! Hide!" Bobby shouted and we scrambled out of the shop with our creations. We agreed to split up. I took Duke 2 and Bobby took the original Duke. We slunk around the back of the shop and I hightailed it to my house and hid Duke 2 in the barn.
It was about an hour later when my aunt came over to consult with my mother. Although Bobby had successfully hidden Duke, his father immediately noticed something missing. In a supply cabinet he passed through on his way inside, sat a gallon jug of Elmer's glue which was now more than half empty. This had been the glue that Bobby had 'found'. We were in big trouble. Sawdust and scraps of lumber as well as leftover paint and even leftover glue were grudgingly allowed. Taking something from the supply cabinet was a capital offense. I was to report immediately to the shop for cleanup duty.
When I arrived Bobby was already in a flurry of cleaning. His face was ashen white and I could tell he had been crying. We began to sweep the shop. He whispered to me "He took Duke." and began to cry. It took us a couple of hours to clean the shop to my uncle's satisfaction. When we were done we went to the supply cabinet where my uncle and my father were talking. My uncle held up the bowl with Duke in it and said to my father, "Did you see this thing? They used most of a gallon of glue to create it." They both laughed about it, but Bobby and I were heartbroken. We could tell Duke was getting weaker and there was nothing we could do.
Our punishment was not finished that evening nor for many days to come. Glue was expensive and my uncle was determined to make us pay double in effort for our offense. He took Duke up to his office to show his coworkers. We never saw it again.
Duke 2, although never discovered, expired the day after we created it. We buried it in secret behind the barn. As we stood over its grave we said a prayer for it and Duke. Although Bobby and I went on to build and destroy many other things we never again tried to create life. We learned the heartbreak of such an endeavor was too high a price to pay.
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