Caribou Gardens is a lovely apartment complex on Sweden Street in Caribou and it is built on the site of the former Church of the Nazarene, the same church I attended as a child. I have occasion to visit Caribou Gardens, and each time I enter the building, I recall an evening church service of long ago that consisted of a clueless little girl, a rather spacious bathroom, and a classic Beatles song.
How I loved to sing! I am not sure if I had any real talent but my parents absolutely beamed when I would stand in front of the congregation, hymn book in hand, and sing such favorites as “Mansion Over The Hilltop” and “The Old Rugged Cross.” On a warm autumn evening, just before my eighth birthday, I asked my father to accompany me to the back of the church as I had to use the bathroom. What a bathroom it was! With the high ceilings and sparse furnishings, the acoustics in that room were perfect for breaking out into song, which I did. The song I chose on this particular evening was “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” by the Beatles; not your average church service melody. I had no kind church pianist there to accompany me, so I compensated by swinging my white shoes against the base of the commode, never missing a beat.
The bathroom door secured with a simple hook and eye lock, which I was able to fasten with no problem. I was just getting warmed up when I noticed the door pushing against that lock and I could hear my father whispering loudly. “Binny! Stop singing and open that door. Open it now.” I stopped, went to the door and unhooked the lock. My father reached beyond me, snapped off the light and took me by the hand.
I truly don’t recall most of the remainder of that evening but as my father led me out of the bathroom and down the aisle, the minister thanked me for the lovely serenade. As I stepped out into the foyer with my dad, faint laughter escaped through the crevices of the church’s large, ornate door; nudging me gently into the night.
In early June of this year, I had occasion to enter Caribou Gardens once again. I noticed a public restroom in the hallway right outside of the common area. Though it was clearly not the same bathroom I recalled, it was spacious and newly built. I could not help but think back to that night nearly 50 years ago and I started to hum. I smiled at myself in the long mirror over the vanity, wondering if anyone outside the door could hear me.
I left the building and strolled out to my car; the only sound the sweet rustling of the young, ambitious leaves on the trees close to the building. I heard it then; a distant murmur in the breeze — the unmistakable symphony of laughter from so long ago. And then, in an instant it was gone; lazily drifting back to the heavens from whence it came.
Editor’s Note: Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
