When Boy was little, his parents assembled a fort in his yard. He was excited. He was a little afraid. The fort was very tall, and he was very small.
Soon enough and with considerable encouragement, he mastered the climb to the top of his newly discovered world.
The Fort became Boy’s little kingdom. He popped up halting any intruder who dared to set foot on the pathway near the fort.
Countless gun battles ensued between Granny Gringo and the Star Wars Cowboy.
One day while Granny wasn’t paying attention, Boy grew older. The fort lost its magic. The sounds of ferocious gun battles waged against the forces of evil disappeared for good. The old Fort stood abandoned.
Little Boy had moved on to other wondrous discoveries in a wider world. The magic telescope stared absently at the sky waiting for another little Star Wars Cowboy, perhaps.
The guns are silent now. No little Cowboy scales the wall to the lookout tower.
The squirrels and the birds come and go with abandon. The only trace of the little Cowboy is a broken six-shooter left behind in the lookout tower.
Time and the changing seasons have assaulted the old Fort. A broken step, a crack here and there appear unnoticed. The reign of the Cowboy Kingdom is nearing its end. With it, the glorious summer days of epic battles will become distant memories.
Only the wind sweeps the leaves from the fort now.
Boy’s dog watched, still and silent, as I climbed around the fort. His curious eyes followed me as if to ask why even I was there.
The Cowboy Kingdom is fading into the stuff of dreams. Only the photographs and the memories will remain as proof that there really was a Star Wars Cowboy and his sidekick, Granny Gringo, who loved him.