Lincoln Log Hills

Bored out of my mind on a dull and gloomy Saturday late afternoon, I found myself sitting alone with my thoughts of nostalgia and childhood memories. As a child, I had found solace in being in my own world as I constructed towering structures made of LEGOs. 

Being a lonely and resentful 40-something-year-old with no family and isolated from the world, I wanted to get back in touch with my childhood. Presently, I was living in a tiny 1-bedroom apartment, because I had spent all my money over the past several years trying to destroy my ex-partner over the most petty and trivial matters. Wanting to do something that would lighten my mood, I decided to go buy a LEGO set at the nearby Walmart and return home to build a LEGO skyscraper. 

Just as I pulled into the mostly empty Walmart parking lot, it began to rain. I sat in my rusty 2011 Ford Escape, staring out at the Menards home improvement store that sat next to the Walmart. As I listened to the soothing sound of the pitter-patter of the rain on the metal roof, I spaced out as memories of my childhood, youth and happier times flooded my mind. 

I remembered that the spot on which I currently sat was once Southtown Mall, an indoor shopping center that had been demolished in 2004 - over a lifetime ago. 

The rain let up, and I got out of my Escape and went into the Walmart. It was nearly a ghost town in there, as I only saw a few other people around. I had entered on the grocery side of the store, so I first went to the ice cream section where I found a pint of root beer float flavored ice cream. Excited, I made a mental note of my find.

I made my way to the back of the store, where I found the toy department. Along the back wall of the store, I found shelves of LEGO sets. I came to a section of wall where there was one burnt-out light, causing a darker spot along the back wall. It was within this shadowy spot that I noticed something peculiar. 

There was a small opening in the wall between two shelving units that led into a shadowy corridor. The opening seemed to be made for a child, as it was only a couple feet wide not more than a yard tall. Just over the opening was a colorful hand-written sign that read "Free Root Beer Candy!" 

Although it all felt very wrong, my gullible ass wanted that free root beer candy. Without hesitation and with a sense of childlike curiosity and abandonment, I entered the shadowy passageway. 

The passage made a sharp turn right, and I found myself descending a flight of stairs. The dimly-lit stairwell seemed to go on far longer than it should. Growing anxious, I hesitated after a few moments. Was there a basement level beneath Walmart? How far down does this stairwell go? 

I really wanted that free root beer candy. I kept going. 

After a few more moments of cautious descent, I reached the bottom, and the passage made a sharp left turn. I found myself in a maintenance corridor with aging metal pipes and electrical lines. This didn't feel right at all. Was I supposed to be here? 

I followed the corridor until I came to a door. Next to the door was a paper calendar hanging on the wall... from the year 2003. The paper was faded and wrinkled, and it was obvious it had been there for a lifetime. 

The door opened into an indoor mall common area. I immediately recognized this place from my childhood. I was now in Southtown Mall. There was dead silence here, and the air was heavy with memory, frozen in time. This was a dead mall. The mall had closed in 2003, and was demolished in 2004. 

As I began to wonder around the mall, memories immediately came to mind. Every store was vacated and empty, devoid of life. I found an empty Old Country Buffet, which was where my family and I would come to have lunch after church on some Sundays. I remembered trick-or-treating here on Halloween a few times as a kid. I remembered when my grandmother brought me here to get an Indiana Pacers coat from a local coat shop. I remembered seeing a few movies at the 2-screen Southtown Cinema. I wandered into the empty 2-screen theater, and remembered seeing "Godzilla" here in 1999. 

For some reason, my own phone didn't work at all in this place. I found an empty cell phone store, where I found a working Jitterbug flip phone. It was an enigma to me how the device was still working, but I used it to take a few photos of the mall as I explored it. 

I came to the larger common area and the memory of a Lincoln Log contest I had engaged in as a kid in this place manifested before me. In the center of the commons were tabled filled with piles of Lincoln Log sets. I remember building structures here as part of a creative contest some time in early 1990s. 

The prize table had bowls of root beer candy shaped like barrels. Mission accomplished. I pocketed as much candy as I could, and now it was time to play with Lincoln Logs. 

I was there for hours, competing with myself, creating cabins and forts made of Lincoln Logs. As I did so, I could hear the rain pouring on the mall roof, the silence and serenity soothing my mind. 

As I was about to return to the exit, I noticed a strange small wooden door hidden behind an unused pile of Lincoln Logs. When I opened it, I found that it led into a well-lit living room of a log cabin. 

Curious, I crawled into the cabin. As I stood up, I realized I was in another dimension. The cabin seemed to be a life-sized Lincoln Log set. I explored the cabin, and found that it was devoid of any plumbing, electricity, or furniture. It was a completely plain and empty home, almost like it was meant to be a boilerplate for home development.

I went outside, and found the surreal realm to be bright and sunny. The cabin sat atop a steep rolling grass hill, and there were other Lincoln Log cabins, forts, and towers scattered around. There were no paths or sidewalks or roads leading to any of the structures. 

There was a Lincoln Log tower next door to the cabin I had come out of, so I went in and climbed to the top to have a look around. The tower was five stories, with the top floor being mostly a green balcony with a 360 degree view. 

Off in the distance, I could see a piles of giant Lincoln Logs. I went back down and made my way over to the Lincoln Log pile, where I also found construction equipment. This appeared to be an undeveloped area. There was plenty of open grassy areas, so I decided to build a Lincoln Log skyscraper. 

The Lincoln Logs varied in length, so I began stacking. To my surprised, the logs were remarkably lightweight. I could easily move logs that were over 20 feet in length with minimal effort. 

I stacked and stacked some more. As my tower began to stack up, I found that I needed to begin using cranes lift the logs. After about a day of erecting my Lincoln Log tower, I had a look around again. 

The tower was now high enough to allow me to see even further. As far as I could see, the realm was full of other styles of colorful houses made of various materials. It appeared to be an endless surreal suburb arranged into neighborhoods of colorful homes made from various materials. 

It occurred to me that the sun hadn't changed position the whole day I had spent here. Apparently, it was always sunny and bright and colorful in this place, and the sun would never set. Although I wanted to explore more of this realm, I needed darkness in order to get proper sleep. It was time to make my way back to my tenebrific reality. 

As I meandered my way through the grassy ravines of the rolling hills dotted with Lincoln Log structures, I spotted a log sign that read "Welcome to Lincoln Log Hills." As I passed the sign, I realized I was no longer sure of how to get back to the cabin I had entered this realm through. I began to grow anxious and uncertain, as many of the cabins all looked similar. 

There were no paths here, and I realized I had no idea of where to go. I became lost and found myself growing weary. I entered a cabin, and went into a room that had shutters on the windows. I closed them, making the room darker. Hungry and dehydrated, I allowed myself to fall asleep. Tomorrow may be bright, but I may remain lost.