A Bully in d'Bronx

[teddi]

But just to let ya know  the part of me that wanted to stay was really surprised but the other part of me which said “this can’t be right, you’d better run” was still pounding away in my head again.   Ya gotta understand that I wasn’t all that used to getting squeezed for no reason at all or being what’d ya call a cry baby so I tried to pull away:  but really ’cause the other reason was that my nose was pressed right up tight in between her boobies and I knew that that part of her was just for babies and I wasn’t one and that if my nose was gonna get bent outta shape it better find a different place to be scrunched up against.  But it was no use and even with me getting her all wet and slobbery there she wouldn’t let me move an inch and what was worse was that I could even taste the perfume that she was wearing.  On top of which every time I tried to lick my lips clean it made it all worse.

By now if you’re wondering why would I be so lame not to want to be there with my nose all twisted outta shape…you’re nuts!  She was still a girl and girls to me were nothing but that:  just girls.  Yea they were older but just the same, to me, that’s all they were and all they’d ever be.  Well, I could go on and tell ya that she let me go after noticing that I could hardly breathe and trying to smack my lips clean; but she didn’t. 

Instead all she did was to hoist me up on her lap and pull me even closer and almost smother me to death and it wasn’t until I heard her start talking to someone else with “Well I see you made it back and you’ve brought a friend”  that she even for a second considered letting go of me and then it was only to let me look up and see that it was Becky standing in the doorway covered with black smudges all over her face and hands not to mention her  yellow dress; and wouldn’t ya know it, standing right there besides her was another kid who had his black hair sticking out from under a torn up Yankees cap which made him look more like a soot covered grubby little bum than one of the Bowery boys. 

I mean, being dirty was one thing, but he looked like he was an expert at it.  Still though he looked damn weird because underneath all of the black dust that he was covered with I could tell that he had light blue coveralls on:  well, at least most of it at one time was light blue, except for the little bit of pink thread that got missed by all of the grunge that still showed on the shoulder straps.  The spooky thing was that no boy in d’Bronx would be caught dead wearing coveralls that had any pink on ’em let alone even be caught wearing ’em at all and if ya did ya’d be pounded and then called a fairy!  In d’Bronx, coveralls were for babies who still didn’t wear long pants with zippers in ’em or for those that’d run away from a fight.

I could go on and tell ya that I played it cool but that’d be a lie.  So I’ll ask ya straight out, how can a guy be with it when he’s in diapers, wearing some dumb bath robe and crying on some strange dames lap; and then all of a sudden like finds out that two others that ya don’t know from Adam are standing there watching him do it?  Ya can’t!  So of course all I could do and tried to do was to mutter “Ohhh crap” and try to worm myself away from her.

I might tell ya that I did and found a place to hide:  like under the table like some lame brain and I could even tell ya that with a straight face that it was all no big deal.  But you’d know that I’d just be full of it and if ya believed me so would you.  So what I will tell ya is this.  Becky’s mom decided to let go of me just enough for me to stand up in front of her.   Of course there was one little hitch to me standing there because she had managed almost like likity-split to slip the fingers of her hands under the robe and inside either side of the diaper; and they were now holding me not only up but also stopping me from twisting around to the left or right.  What made it even worse was that the robe came open.

So there I stood in front of her and in front of Becky and this other kid with both of them giving me the gander from the top of my head then down to my toes and then they’d just to do it all again with goody two shoe smiles.  Now if you were in my place what in the hell would you have done.  Yea, yea, yea I know you’d be ever so brave and ya’d say to yourself “I don’t give a damn” like “it’s just water rolling off a ducks back.”   You know what I’d say to you?  “Bull!”  And ya know what made it worse was that somewhere back not too long ago I remembered that Becky said she wouldn’t say a word about me being here and now here she was showing me off with one of the Katzenjammer kids standing there just stare’n  at me.

I knew I was in a pickle and that there was no way out so’s I just stood there like you would and start to shiver and shake just like I did and maybe your lips would tremble just a little bit too like mine did.  I mean they’d quiver just enough to let ’em know that you’re so damn self-conscious standing there in front of ’em that just the right word or look from either of them would be enough to break you down and make you cry all over again which they knew you were already doing so that you’d be ever so grateful to one and all if the floor would just open up and swallow you right then and there.  You’d probably think like I was that falling five flights to land on your kisser would be a breeze!  After that you wouldn’t feel a thing.  Right?

Anyway, take it from me, if clothes make the guy it’s hard to look in when you’re a sight to see; so for at least that reason and maybe because I knew better than to even try and say a stuttering word and make it worse, I kept my big mouth shut; besides, I was still trying not to cry but my eyes just wouldn’t listen.  Strange thing was that for some reason neither of them really ever laughed at me:  all they did was smile all weird like and look at each other and then come back to give me the once over again like they wanted something but were afraid to ask.  Well, if that was the case, what Becky said she wanted without saying a word with her eyes which stared at where she thought my package was was just that; and as for the other kid, he made me nervous as hell ’cause after he licked his lips, I thought it was ’cause  I was gonna get razzed by him; I mean major league, but instead he turned halfway towards Becky and whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear “Wow, you were right…black and blue from head t’ toe.  All that must’a hoit.”   

To tell ya the truth yea it did but not half as much as the way I was feelin then because I knew, that deep down inside, that if the shoe were on the other foot, I would’ve laughed my butt off at whoever I was lookin at.  I would’ve done that and more.  I’da pointed at the sissy and really made fun of him and then I’da never let him live it down; besides if I found him somewhere else on the sidewalks of the Bronx …anywhere…well ya know…them who had the knuckled head and shiners with busted lips to boot had ‘em for a reason and once everyone knew about it…well…that said it all. 

Anyhow, like I said before, the two of ’em were acting all weird because all they did was smile like it was hurting ’em to look at me; which I thought was really dumb.   I mean go figure who in their right mind would really feel sorry for the way I look; except for me.

Well, they gave each other that look that look that between two friends is a secret to know what the other is thinking about and for you to find out and sorta giggled all nervous like as they take two giant steps backward up to stand together back outside the doorway.  I guess if ya got friends it’s weird that you can do something together like that and play “Simon Says” without practice.

At any rate each one of them reaches out and grabs something that was hidden outta sight and pulls it back in whipping it around like there was no tomorrow and into plain sight.  From what was left of the chrome handles I sees what looks like a basket on busted up spoke wheels; sorta like a broken up shopping cart that you might see at the A & P except that it only had two wheels right in the back and before I knew it they each had pushed one just inside the apartment door and held it tilted back and almost against them like there was something heavy in either of them. 

The one Becky had had a grubby red checker board table cloth on it that looked like it’d never been washed and the other one was a plain old dirty white plastic table cloth that still had all sorts a stains and smeared grunge on it.   Even to me I thought both looked pretty yucky and that whoever threw them out must have really had it bad to keep ’em that long.

So anyway, there they were standing there; grinning at me like I’d guess and know what the hell kinda crap they had hidden inside of ‘em and then they just pushed them upright and then let ’em come to a stop after they rattled and bounced around on the brown vinyl floor.  Of course the first thing that I thought of after they stopped moving was that I really needed to be anywhere else but where I was and second thing I thought of was that I didn’t have anywhere else to go.  So I did what I thought I should do, I played Simon Says and without asking took a baby step back and found my back rubbing against what my nose was just pressed  into before and that’s when Becky’s mom bear hugged me even closer.

“Rebecca S. McCandle,” she said, “first, who’s your friend and second what on earth happened to you both? And pray tell,” she added, “What on earth is in those carts?”

“Mom,” she said, “this Sam Hopkins, another one of my friends that you haven’t really met yet who lives with super Sam in the basement apartment and across the courtyard in “B.”

“Well Sam or Samuel, I must say, that as your father, you too do make quite an impression.  Would you be kind enough to explain just how long you have been friends with Rebecca?”

“Shua lady, me and her met a cuppl’a months ago on d’foist stoop after I helped my dad out shuvel’n coal.  But you probly don’t remember.  It was cold den and it was after you was tru bangin on d’pipes for steam along with d’rest of ’em.  You met me back then with her after I cleaned up from helping him shovel a truck load into d’boilers; me and her was standin together in the main couwrtyard between “A” and “B.  I cleaned up pretty good den so I just wasn’t a doity like I am now.  Whaddya think?” he said.

I thought he looked stupid putting his hands on his hips when he puffed his chest out looking like he was really proud of himself.

“What I think Sam,” she said, “is that for some reason, given the impression you’re making on me now, that I would have remembered you and I don’t.  Besides, who on earth would walk about as filthy as you are at this moment?  And as for you, Rebecca McCandle, you’ve all but ruined your dress, not mention your new saddle shoes and now your all but grounded.  I suggest you explain it all and be quick about it.” 

Well if it was gonna hit the fan I was glad that it wasn’t me again that was gonna be in the middle of it, so like Becky’s mother I just waited for an explanation thinking to myself “Ohhh boy this gonna be good figuring that sooner or later that Becky’d get her butt beat for sure.  Somewhere, some small part of me said I was o.k. with that but another part of me wasn’t all that sure about it ’cause something didn’t jive.  I mean it wasn’t with Becky that it didn’t all add up but this other kid who almost seemed to go out of his way to make her think that he was some hot shit and the more I looked at him the more I thought he looked like a sissy trying to be something he wasn’t:  tough.

Anyhow, Becky starts off with a smile and said “Mom, I mean mother, you did meet Sam in the courtyard…and what Sam said is the truth…the only thing is…Sam only dresses like this to help in the coal room or to help out a friend like me who really needs a favor.   Mother, you remember Sam as Samantha; and she only lets her closest friends call her Sam or Sammie. 

I guess with her saying that Sam was a girl dressed like a boy kinda made me feel stupid but I hafta admit that I wasn’t the only one who all sudden like had a hard time believing that he was a she because Becky’s mom muttered “Samantha Hopkins take off that baseball cap right now.”  And when she did, out from underneath it plopped a full head of hair that was shoulder length and a light brown.  “There, is that any better?” she said.  “Now with hair do you recognize me?”

“Yes I do,” she said as she pushed me off to the side.  I tried to move further away but still had a one hand hold on me and wouldn’t cut loose of me so all I could do was to stand next to her looking like a putz and listening to whatever it was that they were gonna yak about which wasn’t all that long in happening because no sooner had she said that then she up and says “I want an explanation and I want it now and for your sake Rebecca after ruining a new dress and shoes this had better be good.”

I guess Becky was thinking about making up some type of B.S. story but never got to open her mouth because this Samantha just jumps right in with, “Mrs. McCandle, Beck asked me to do her a favor which I did.”

“I asked her for an explanation,” came the reply, “not you; but since you have a mind to I’ll listen to you first.  Go on.  Tell me why two girls would so miraculously transform themselves into…into blackened dust mops.  What could be so important to either of you to make do such a thing?  Do either of you know how much clothes cost these days not to mention about how both of you look.  Well?  I’m waiting for an answer.  And it better good!”

“Uhhh, ummm, well I don’t know if this is the right way to say this but Beck and me are friends so she asked me for a favor.”

“Yes, yes so I’ve heard.  We’ve been through that part of it now get on with the rest.”

"O.K. O.K. already.  Beck came running downstairs to 1-B and pounded on our door yelling for me.  Even from inside I could tell that she was all outta breathe and was screaming at the top of her lungs for me to “Come out because I really need your help!” 

"So I opened the door and asks her “What?”  She tells me that she needs “A big favor.”  I asks hers “What?”  She screams at me “Never mind what just get your dust duds on and please hurry…I’ll explain on the way.”  So I do and along the way she’s explaining to me that she needs this big favor which really isn’t for her but for a boy she knows.  I guess she’s sweet on him.

"Anyway, of course I wanna know all the details but she shuts me up with “Not now Sam!  Just listen!  You know all about the dumbwaiters and crap on “A” side and how when they’re unloaded that they go straight into the cans?”  Of course I did because I help my dad all the time but before I could answer her that she already knows that she shuts me up again with “Well some of the stuff that just got sent down is real important and I need you to get me to the cans before the garbage men dump ‘em and the only way to do that is to get there fast and the only way to do that is through the coal room so’s we don’t have to walk around a half a block."

"Of course I asks her “What’s so important that you havta get?” but she doesn’t answer me until  we’re riding down the coal chute and she tells me “Comics and books.”  “Can ya believe it, we got all dirty for a bunch of boys comics and some books.

"And that’s the truth” she said as she pointed to the two carts. “These carts usually haul the garbage from the dumbwaiters to the cans so after we chuted down we got them first and then ran to the alleyway and boy did it stink.   We got there just before the garbage men did and piled all of what my dad had dumped into the cans into these baskets.  So then we covered ‘em and then had to haul ‘em around half the block and lug ‘em up five flights of stairs. 

"I guess they're his” she said nodding to me and then added “Beck told me what his mother did to him.  She thinks that she pushed him down some stairs too but he won’t say anything about it.”

[teddi]

“Of course I wouldn’t say anything about it” I thought to myself, I’m no stoolie, besides, she told me to “don’t say anything because it was just a silly accident.”   I guess thinking back on it now I was stupid to even listen to her about how “sorry” she was about it all then:  figures that even a girl I didn’t know knew more about what really happened without me telling her a thing than if I’d a blabbed it out.



But what I don’t get now is why Becky and this Sam kid would bother to do something nice for me…no…scotch that…it was more than nice and a lot more than what I would have ever thought of doing for someone else like me.  Right then and there I felt rotten…and tried to mumble a “Thanks” but all that came out sounded like the squeakiest high sound I ever made in my life and to be honest with ya I really didn’t know what else to say to either of them so I just stood there like some dumb dork all wrapped up in pink staring at two carts that I really wanted to tear into to see if what I’d hidden inside of ’em was still there.  And of course with that great thought I figured that if it were me standing on the other side of those carts that before I even brought them all the way back upstairs that I’d a already rifted through the damn things to see what in the hell else was in them that made them so important; but they were just some dumb girls and I wasn’t so I figured that that made us more than even-steven.



I guess I could’ve just stood there and not said another word except for the fact that both of them started giggling for no reason what-so-ever and I thought it was because’v the way I was dressed.  Anyhow I did manage to growl all angry like “Shuddup!  an quit laffin’ at me ’cause it ain’t funny!”



“No you have it all wrong,” Becky chirped back at me, “We’re not really laughing at you.  Well…actually in a way we are.  You see we had a bet…Sam and me…on what’d you say…I thought you’d be more than happy to see what we brought back for you, instead she won.  She said “he’s just a “stupid boy” who probably wouldn’t know enough or have the good manners to properly thank anybody who went out of their way for him.”  I guess she was right; sooo…” that’s when she looked right at her friend and said “A bets a bet and you won so what say we just put them all back?  Then if he wants them bad enough he can go get them himself and then we’ll see what happens.  Well?”  



She, this Sam girl, looks at me and smiles after seeing my mouth just about drop to the floor and says all sweet like “Not me…like I told ya…I already did him one favor.  I got a better idea.  Instead of hauling them down five flights why don’t we make it easy on ourselves…we’ll just dump them out the window of the fourth to fifth floor landing to the back courtyard …then we’ll wait an hour…whatever is left after being picked over we can haul back to the alley way trash cans.  C’mon, grab a handle and let’s go!”



And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse it did because for some reason whoever it was that said she was my mother decided to make a short announcement from outside the doorway with “Here…”as she dumped an armful of diapers and hospital pants just inside the doorway “you’ll be needing these and …” that’s when she stopped saying anything…looked at what I was wearing…gave me the meanest smile I’d ever seen her give me and then said…  â€œSweetie, if I ever get you back home I’ll show you how to play dress up!”  I thought she was gonna take a step inside but instead she just turned right around and laughed out loud as she walked backed towards the door of 5-A.  



As I heard the door slam shut to 5-A that’s when my shoulders sagged and my chin dropped to my chest.  I just stood there and waited for whatever else it was that was gonna happen; which didn’t take too long to happen because Becky’s mom told her right off the bat “Rebecca McCandle if you so much as lay a finger on that cart you’ll regret it. And as for you Samantha Hopkins…you’ll do no such thing either.  The carts and everything in them stay!



“It’s all well and good that the both of you went to the trouble of being kind…would you go and ruin it now by being petty?  Well would you?  Well?  I’m waiting for answer from both of you…tell me the truth…and I’ll be speaking to you first Rebecca…did I raise you to hurt someone who can’t do for themselves.   Would you be taking advantage of the situation because you felt you weren’t thoroughly appreciated? If that is how you’ll be treating your friends now then I’m afraid you’ll be ever so lonely later on in life.  



“And as for you Samantha…if you have any ideas of how boys act or why…then I’ll be telling you you’re not only mistaken but until you’re grown up to keep those notions to yourself where, except for you, they will do no harm.  



“Now then, before I loose my temper with both of you…both of you turn around and pick up whatever it is that woman's thrown on the floor.  Rebecca…take the lot and Samantha back to the sewing room and after you’ve placed the bundles on the bed…stay there.  As for you Samantha after I’ve called out for Rebecca you can leave …or...if the mood should for some reason strike your fancy…stay.  Now the both of you get out of my sight and be quick about it.”



And just like, without a word, that’s what they did.  As they turned right and walked down the hallway to wherever the sewing room was I heard them whisper back and forth to each other “I can’t believe your mother said that to me.”

  “Believe it.”

 â€œI have a good mind to just get out of here…next time you want anything don’t bother to call me.”

 â€œShut up Sam…she’ll hear you.”  

“So what?”

  “So she’s right that’s what.”  

“Whaddya mean by that?”  

“What I mean is that isn…” is all I heard when the door to the room they were going to slammed shut and that’s when Becky’s mom started talking to me; but not until she had turned me around and had me face her; which I really couldn’t do.



“So,” she said, “by the looks of it…you have your comics and books back.  For some reason, other than reading pleasure, they must be very important to you?”  I didn’t say anything.  I just looked down and except for sniffing back a runny nose I still didn’t say nothin’ or make a move to run away either.  



“Terry, you can stand there all day and not say a word.  Of course, I have a mind to sit here just as long to wait for you.  Sooner or later you do need to speak with me…especially if you’re of mind to stay… now…what will it be?  Shall we waste the day away or get on with it?”



I thought about it for a couple of seconds and without looking up whispered “Yea.”



“Well…we’ve reached a milestone,” she said.  â€œHow shall we go about this…wait…I know…you really don’t want to talk all that much…perhaps I can do the talking for both of us?”



I shrugged my shoulders once back at her and all she said was “Good, I understand so I’ll be taking that for a yes.  Now then, why don’t we find out what makes your books so precious and how shall we do that you might ask?  I would reply, Terry, pick one, any one, and show me.  Can you do that?  Please?”  



I swallowed back my dry mouth spit and gave a half-ass nod, turned around and grabbed the first comic on the top of the stack which happened to be one of my favorite copies of ATTACK and presented it to her.  Of course, she just hadda go and read the whole front page starting with “ATTACK.”  



“Obviously a war comic…costing and exorbitant  ten cents…containing…what…at least one story on the cover entitled “Here Come the Tanks.”  I take it there are more within?  Of course,” she said as she leafed through the first couple of pages, “…let’s see now, here we have “Death of a soldier” and further in there is what’s this “Operation Bullion” and as we advance to the rear there is “Bravery Wears No Rank.”  For a boy they’re all very interesting I’m sure…so? So?  Terry, I’m at a loss.  What is it that I’d be looking for?”



I wasn’t gonna take the comic from her, instead I reached back and grabbed another one whose banner read MYSTERY.  On the cover was a bride all dressed in a white wedding gown with lotsa lace and she was getting married.  Of course that the guy she was gonna get married to was all bones made it all the more inviting to read along with all the other stories inside like “Wings of the Vampire” or “Death” or “The Perfect Specimen.”  While it wasn’t one of my favorites it had its moments.  Well, anyhow, I gave her that one too and watched her fumble through it while mumbling something about how “trashy” it appeared and after she leafed through a couple of pages sorta tossed it on the kitchen table and gave me a funny look which I knew was the sure sign that she didn’t have a clue.  Sure, I could’ve stood there and given her more but instead I picked up the one off table and flipped the pages to the back and stopped somewhere around the third from the end and then opened it up so she could see what she was looking for but didn’t find:  the stamp packet that I’d stapled shut and then fastened lengthwise with four stamp hinges right up against the folded crease of the page just between the staples.  It was still there and hadden’t budged.  



She put that one back on the table and went back to “ATTACK”…opened it to where she thought it would be but didn’t find a thing but that was only because she didn’t look in the right spot.  I helped her out because it was the July issue which meant that it was on a later page that had a seven on it.  



I reached back and took another one from the other cart, a September issue of BLACKHAWK “The Monstrous War Wheel” and opened it to the ninth page.  I did the same for the next, this one was a D.C. Comic, STRANGE ADVENTURES, “Battle Between Two Earths” the only difference was that it was the December issue and the price on this one was all of twelve cents and on the twelfth page there it was…just like all the rest…another stamp packet.



I waited for her to say something but she didn’t.  Instead, she did what I would’ve done.  She started picking up comics, one at a time, looking at the print date and then flipping forward to a spot where she would find what she was looking for and in each case she found it until she stopped and in a whisper asked “Terry, do all of them” she pointed to the carts, “contain a packet?”  I nodded once.  â€œHere…lets see now…I’ve gone through some eight no eleven of these and by the looks of it there must be at least sixty or seventy more left in one cart alone.



“So you collect stamps then?  Is that it?”  I didn’t say a thing and just waited and watched her pick up some more issues from the other cart and then, after thinking about it finally asked the question that I knew she would.



“Terry?  Why would you hide your stamps instead of mounting them in an album?”  



I didn’t say a thing:  instead, I picked up a Walt Disney Comic of Scrooge McDuck which she had laid on the table, found the packet, ripped it open and then dumped it.  I let her sift the stamps until she found what she didn’t know she was looking for:  a $5.00 silver certificate that I’d doubled over before I’d mounted some of the duplicates of the stamps that I had on it.   For the longest time she didn’t say a thing; gave me a funny look then put both of her hands on my shoulders and said “Do all of your stamp packets contain a hidden treasure?”



I only nodded once and waited for the next question which was “Terry…would they all be the same?”



I leaned closer and whispered “No…some are more and some only have a two dollar bill in ‘em” and then waited for the next question which turned out to be more than one all put together of “How much do you have and what on earth are you hiding it all for?”  I didn’t answer the last dumb question only the first with “Last time I counted…$810.”  And that was all I said  â€™cause as for the why I hid it all it seemed pretty obvious to me:  in case I hightailed it my stash was gonna be my “stake.”  



“Hmmmm, that’s quite a bit of money for boy your age, so I’ll be asking how did you come by it all?”



I resented her question and shot back “I didn’t cop it if that is what you mean.”



 â€œSo if you didn’t steal it how did you…”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“So we’ve reached an impasse,” she said.  â€œYou know what that is don’t you?”

“Yea. It means I ain’t talking to you about it.”

“Oh but I think you will.  You’re a smart boy of what, twelve…thirteen…tops.  What would you tell me if I went straight out the door and down the hallway to 5-A and informed your mother that you had $810 by your last count all hidden away, neat and tidy, just waiting for her:  just for the asking.   Think.  What would you be telling me then?



“That’s blackmail!”

“Yes it is.”

“That’s not fair!”

“No its not.  But just the same I will have the answer to my question and it will be the truth or so help me you’ll be out of here before you can wet those diapers you’re wearing.”



“Now then, I’ll ask the question again, Terry, how did you “earn” all of that money?"



I started to blubber at her “You’re a cheat just like her.  I didn’t do nothin wrong.  That money’s mine!  You can’t just go an give it away to her; especially not to her.  I’d rather burn it all first.”



“That’s an option I hadn’t considered but just the same either way you’ll not touch a dime of it until you can convince me that you’re not a thief as well as a bully.  If you can prove it the money is yours…otherwise…” She let the last word sit for a while before she said “Terry?  I’m waiting.”



“Yea, I know but I ain’t gonna tell you how I got the money.  You wouldn’t believe me.”



“Well then,” she said, “I’m sorry but you’ll have to…”



“I said,” interrupting her, that I wouldn’t tell you ’cause you wouldn’t believe me but someone else can prove it for me.  Call Mr. K.  Heinmuller at Murrey Hill 7-8490 and ask him.  After that…after that…I’ll hate you too.”  



I didn’t have anything else to say and with what I told her, after that, neither did she.  She just walked out of the kitchen and went straight to phone in hallway and dialed the number.  I heard her ask for Mr. Kiel.  



She introduced herself with “Hello? Mr. Heinmuller please.  You are...good.  I’m Mrs. Deborah McCandle and I live in the Bronx, I’m sorry for bothering you, but I have a bit of situation.  No…nothing serious…I need to ask you a question or two…if you have the time.  Thank you.  Mr. Heinmuller there’s a boy here whose name is Terry Miller…no no he’s not hurt.  Well yes there are some bumps and a lot of bruises but…no, no thankfully I’m not related to her…well I’m a neighbor and he’s sitting in my kitchen and…oh no it’s nothing like that.  Mr. Heinmuller I need to ask you a favor.  Yes I understand you don’t know me but Terry tells me that you could tell me something about him and almost anything helpful would do.  Why not?   I don’t understand…why won’t you…Terry, what on earth are the numbers Mr. Heinmuller is speaking of…Terry…wait wait Mr. Heinmuller don’t hang up please he’s here I’ll pass the phone to him and let him speak. Wait please.”



I made my way to her...took the phone and cried my whispered reply to him “Herr. Kiel.  Ja. Neun, drei, sieben.”  I handed the phone back to her and went back into the kitchen; I sat and waited.



“Thank you.  I’ll be brief; Mr. Heinmuller…I have found that Terry has a considerable amount of…yes…hate.  Mr. Heinmuller, please, no I have not struck the boy. The reason for my call is to confirm that what money he says he has earned is…it is.  Well, naturally I assumed that…no…no I didn’t…for how long…he comes in when…doing what…he does what…for you and who else…no I didn’t know…how much…until now I don’t think anyone does.  You did?  I see.  For the moment no.  In his eyes  I’ve managed to make a big enough fool of myself.   Mr. Heinmuller, I’m terribly sorry but he won’t be coming in for the foreseeable future.  Thank you…yes yes…I’ll call you when.  Mr. Heinmuller I, I’m sorry, Goodbye.”



And with that she hung up the phone.  Sure, I could’ve told her what she wanted to know but what good would it have done.  She wouldn’t have believed me.  I guess I sat for a couple of minutes until she stood in the kitchen doorway and showed herself.



“You speak German?”

“Enough and only what he taught me.”

“I see.  Terry, both Rebecca and Samantha are in the hallway.  I think that they should hear what I’ve been told about you; may we join you.”



“It’s your kitchen.”



All three of ’em sat down at the yellow topped table and for what seemed long time Mrs. McCandle didn’t say a word.  It was Becky that asked her, “Mom?”  



“Not very much of one” she replied and then spilled the beans by starting with “Mr. Heinmuller tells me that Terry has been working for him for over a year and a half and including weekends; even if he’s been beaten black and blue he’s never missed a day.  



“He tells me that when he gets home from school he takes the L in the afternoon and works from four until ten at night with whatever the task it is that been assigned him.  Besides Mr. Heinmuller he works for two others.  He’s paid twenty-five cents an hour by each but has made more by collecting the returnable bottles which either litter the boardwalk in front of their stores or overflow their trash cans.  He claims Terry’s a quick study especially when it comes to…knowing who to trust.

[teddi]

I guess that for the minute that that said it all except for my wizas remark of “Yea, big friggen deal.”  



“Yes it is,” she said back to me, “It’s a very big deal and for what it’s worth, I apologize and hope that despite this misunderstanding you will trust me or at least begin to try?”



“That’s easy for you to say and ask me about now isn’t it?”



“Under the circ-umstances, perhaps it is a wee bit self-serving; none-the-less if you’re to stay here for any length of time there needs to be some expectation on your part where I’m concerned.  



“Then do I have a choice about what I get to wear, and if I do, since I have my own cash why can’t I go out and buy my own clothes instead of wearing whatever it is that you think you’re gonna try and make me wear?”



“Terry, I’ll not be trying to dress you in anything nor will I be making you wear a thing:  I expect you to be a willing participant.  What ever it is that I would be lying out for you to wear you can or won’t wear of your own free will; it’s as simple as that.  Of course, if you decide not to, then expect to wear only what you’re wearing now; except for an additional pair of rubber pants that will be all that there is for the next two weeks or until your mother gets back.  On that you have my word.



“As for you buying your own clothes…in the end it’d be just the same or worse; especially if your mother found out that you had all of that money hidden away and never told her and please understand, that I would not be the one to tell her but your smart enough to know that that question of  â€œSo who paid for all of your new clothes?” would come up sooner than later when she saw you; besides which, if you were to go out and buy your own clothes what on earth would you wear?  Now now, I can already see the wheels turning in your head and I know what your next question would be and as I told you before the answer is “no,” I won’t go out and buy them for you…like it or not you’ll have to wear what I give you and and…”



And that’s where she stopped talking to me and stared all fuzzy like; squinting her eyes at one of the carts and that’s when she asked me “Terry, besides what you have hidden away in all of your comic books, what on earth are you doing with those books?” she said pointing to the couple of red hardbacks that stood out like sore thumbs.



I thought about not sayin nothin but that’a been stupid so I decided to tell her exactly what she wanted to hear that “Lady, right now I ain’t doin nothin with ’em.”  



“Ohh we are the smart one now aren’t we.  Well, let’s try that again.  Terry, I can understand a boy such as yourself reading comic books about war or superheroes and whatever other gruesome tales that would strike your fancy, but why would an industrious boy such as you be reading the likes of Louisa May Alcott when it appears that Edgar Allen Poe would be yur cup of tea?”



I wasn’t ready for that question and without really thinking about it I suddenly got a case of the dry mouth and for some reason I knew she wouldn’t let go until she got answer which I wasn’t at all ready to give her so I just stood there crossed my legs like I hadda take a whiz but didn’t say a thing instead; she did with “Well? Would you be answering me in a timely manner or shall we both grow old together waiting while you fidget about?”



Yea, I could’a said nothin but sooner or later she’dve sifted through the lot and finally picked both of ’em out of the mess of crumpled up comic pages and then she would’ve flipped the hardcover open and noticed even more so I decided to tell her that “It’s not what it looks like, honest.”



“Oh, and what exactly does it look like besides you needing to go to the bathroom?”



I whispered back the obvious of “First, that I was reading girl’s books…but I don’t hafta go to the bathroom…not yet anyway.”



“Well then,” she said, “if you don’t have to go stop fidgeting because it certainly looks like you have to, but if you’re uncomfortable about something else I’m certain that you have an explanation that I would believe?”



“Yea.”  



“Well then, begin.”



“No…I mean…wait…I can’t start.  Can’t I wait until we’re alone?”



“Why would you ask that?”



“Because, because…your right…it’s embarrassing?”



“Fair enough.  Shall I ask the girls to leave us alone for a moment or two or is this something that eventually they will find out about?”



“Not if I trusted you not to say anything,” I said back to her, “and if I tell ya…you wouldn’t go and tell them would ya?”



“No, not if you asked me not too.  But, I was never one to stop Rebecca from opening a good book and reading it; besides, it appears that for some reason you have read at least two that she has not…so…would you mind if you shared either with her or Samantha?”



“So in other words your gonna make me tell ya with them here whether I like it or not.”



“Hmmm, hmmm.  It appears that your Mr. Heinmuller is correct, at least in part; that you are a fast learner.  Now then, despite your comic books to the contrary, why were you reading a book about girls, written for girls concerning their behaviors and their coming of age?”



At that point all I could do was cringe and if crying was gonna make me a sissy then I couldn’t stop it from happening because all I felt was that I was getting hotter by the second and started to sweat without even giving it a try.  I felt even stupider because there were girls there would even get to hear what I’d say about it all so I did the only thing I could figure out doing by asking “When I tell ya…are you gonna…gonna laugh at me?”



“Terry,” she said, “I might smile but I promise that I won’t laugh at you.  As for Rebecca I can’t make her make the same promise but would hope that she would follow my example; as for Samantha, if it makes you feel any better I’ll ask her to leave right now.”



“Wait a sec,” Sam said butting in, “dat’s not fair, I helped get all of deese weird comics and books back for him, so’s I gotta right to stay.  Besides, dere’s…dere’s more than just dose two books that he’s read that are girls books.  Mrs. McCandle, dere are more than fouwr Dana Girls Mystery Stories along with a… a book on how to make paper dolls by Tom Tierney in dere too and I know it’s d’same one I got.  Listen, if it makes any difference I promise dat I won’t laugh…at least not out loud.  For cryin out loud can I stay?  O.K?”



“Are you asking me, or him?”



“Well, it’s your apartment but I guess, I guess dat he’s da one dat I should ask foist, den if it’s ok, you?”



“Well then if its o.k. with him you have my permission.  Terry?”



“This is not fair, if I tell her to leave then she’ll be pestering Becky about what I said…besides if Becky opens up the cover and even starts to read one of the books then, then, she might let  it slip out anyway; either way I can’t win.”



“Terry, all that is true and proves the point that you are a quick study.   Perhaps it would go better for you with an orange Nehi to drink or would you prefer grape?”  



I never thought of the fact that if I drank anything that it’d all lead to just one thing…soaking what I was wearing…so I nodded once, said “Grape.”   She opened the fridge, took out a bottle of Nehi and after pouring some in a glass gave me something to wet my whistle.  Sure I took a couple a sips, then gulped down the rest and asked “Can I have the rest?” and while she was doing that I just muttered to no one but myself under my breath “this suc-ks” for which I really expected to get clocked…but didn’t and that surprised me.



I closed my eyes and started with, “O.K.  Here’s the truth.  The truth is…is…is…my uh…my uhmmm…mother made me read ’em…b’cause…b’cause…she…well…she gave me them.”  I cringed knowing that what I said was just as stupid as it sounded and then muttered to no one but myself “Right.  That was brilliant. No news there.  What I meant to say was that…she gave me ’em because of…of a…well…you gotta understand it wasn’t my idea to read ’em and that’s the truth.”  I waited for a couple of sec’s and then finished up with, “If I didn’t read ’em then she’da she’da…look…I didn’t wanta get hit….at least not by her. Well…that’s one reason anyway…’cept even after I read ’em it didn’t make no difference anyway.”



No one said anything so I guess there was no news there that they didn’t already know about; at least for ’em to laugh at me about so I took another sip of the Nehi and then licked my lips because even if they were wet my mouth was as dry as I’da ever known it to be and having to spill the beans about something that was worser than if I had go toe to toe and duke it out with some kid that was bigger than me; and right now if I had a choice I’da taken the pounding.  This wasn’t gonna be easy to say out loud because every time I tried to say something I got all choked up and that’s when Becky’s mom tried to make it easier for me by asking “Terry, let’s start with a simple question.  Do you have any money hidden in your books as well?”  I nodded a couple a times and said “Yea.”

“Is it a lot?” she asked.  

“Nah. Not really.”

“If I may ask, how much more do you have?

I shot back a real quick “Maybe three or four.”

“Dollars? she whispered.

“No. C notes.  That means…”

“Terry, I know what it mean but I need to ask…I take it you earned it all as well then?”

“No, not really” I admitted to her.

She looked all surprised and said “You didn’t…you…”

“No, I already told ya…I ain’t no thief.”

“O.K.  Then, were did it come from.”

“Found it.”

“All of it?  Ridiculous.  Terry, nobody leaves three or four hundred dollars lying around for a boy to find.  So tell me how exactly did you “find” this enormous sum.”

“If I tell ya, are ya gonna believe me.”

“We’ve been down this road before…and something tells me that…that for some reason I would.  Now, please explain…first how you found it and secondly what makes these books so embarrassing to you.”

“O.K.” I said, “Listen, I never said I found all of the money at one time, did I.”



I waited for an answer but she didn’t have one so I went on with, “No.  If you’re so smart you can do the math yourself.  Every day I went to work I hadda pass phone booths, lots of ’em.  You know the kind ya find on just about every street corner, anyhow, before I walked past one of ’em I’d go inside, pull down the coin return, listen for the change to drop and then check the cup for anything inside it.  You know, down on the boardwalk there a couple a places that have ’em lined up side by side, ten at a time.  That’s a lotta phones to check on…but I did.



“Sometimes, there’d be only a couple nickels or some dimes or maybe it be two-bits that’d drop; but sometimes I’d luck out and find a couple a bucks from whoever was in ’em last who’d forgotten that they made a long distance call and had change coming; so I found the change they left for me behind.  Most of the time, going and coming, I might find two to three bucks each way a day.  So…”



“So she looks at me and says, “So somewhere along the way you traded in the loose change for bills because you found it easier to contend with larger bills which are now hidden somewhere in the books as well?  Well?”  I waited for her to say something else and she did when she asked me “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

 

“Yea, bingo, so do you want a medal for figuring it out without you thinking of me being a thief or accusing me of lying to yah and golly gee whiz ya didn’t even hafta make a phone call.”



“No, no medal and no accusations, sarcastically, you’ve proved your point.  But, Terry,  why is it that something tells me that there something else in those books that you don’t want anyone to know about.  What makes those books so embarrassing to you; though admittedly, not many boys would be reading a girl’s book unless they were so inclined… she paused for a second and then abruptly added “or as you claim in your case forced to do so?  So why?  Why would you be forced to read a book?”  



I knew it wouldn’t be long before we got around to it since I didn’t answer her out loud.  I mean she didn’t get mad or slap me around…all she did was to fish one of the books out and it was when she read the cover “Little Women by Louisa May Alcott” out loud that I turned my head away from everyone one and cringed.  I waited for her to open up the book and read out what my mother had written to me on the inside of the hardback cover.  I waited and then I waited some more…but I didn’t hear a word of what was written. Instead all I heard was her flipping the pages and looking and then all I heard was her telling “Rebecca, why don’t you and Samantha go get washed up for lunch; and when your both finished go to your room and close the door behind you; Terry and I need some privacy.  And Rebecca, please don’t try and eavesdrop.”



When they’d left that’s when she said “From what little I’ve read from the copy of yur birth certificate taped to the opposite side of the cover I think I understand.  Look at me Terry, I’m not laughing and I won’t be smiling.  Even if yur mother always wanted a girl she was a cruel woman to go and name you like she did.  And it just dawns on me why it was so easy for her to let you stay behind; and now like it or not you’re in a situation where you may well have to dress the part.  



“When we’re done here I’ll be taking the books along with yur comics and keeping them safe for you:  Rebecca and Samantha can get their own copies of either; unless of course Teresa Joseph E. Miller decides otherwise.  Terry, I’m not a stupid woman and without having read any of the pages I couldn’t help but notice that every time the name of Josephine or Jo appeared that it was underlined; by you, whom your mother calls…Terri Jo.

[teddi]

“So I’ll ask you, while you stay here, however long that is, what shall I call you?”



I thought about it and knew that I hated my first name...and even if it were spelled different to me it still be a girls name so if I had a choice I’d want something that a guy wouldn’t have to think twice about when someone said it; but now, to me, it didn’t make no difference anyhow so all I thought about when I answered her with a flip “Whatever” I shouldn’t have been surprised when she just went on and said “Very well, while you’re here I’m of a mind to call you Jo…now” she said “Should I’ll tell you why.”  



She waited for me to say something but I didn’t because all I could do was to sit there and sniffle thinking “She’s gonna call me a silly sissy girls name too.”



“Fair enough, I understand but it’s not like that.  Think about it.  If I were to call you another name such as Jack or John, Fred or even…Sean… who would really be answering me?  I’ll tell you who…it’d be no one that either of us knew:  it’d be a stranger.  You know more about yourself as Jo than any other I could ever say which might be music to your ears but where would it go from there.  I mean, how would a Fred or John react when they suddenly find themselves in a situation which demands so much more as the one you find yourself in now; especially since you have taken the time and gone to all of trouble to know Josephine so well.



“Ohh, I can see by the look on your face you haven’t a clue about what it is I’m leading too have you?”



I shook my head from side to side “No.”



“Well then, you’re a smart lad, you tell me what it is about Josephine that you remember from reading?”



“That’s a dumb question…she’s a girl.”



“Why that’s a brilliant and insightful piece of information; and no, I can see by the look on your face of utter scorn that you think I’m making fun of you but Jo… I’m not.”  When I said “Yeah right” all she did was smile back at me and went on with “Because she was a girl it makes all the more obvious of what it was she actually was.   She was much like you and in her time…a bully.  Oh most certainly she may not have been as proficient or as industrious as yourself but never the less a bully by any other name even if a girl is one and the same…except…that when it comes to girls there is another name which they are called.”



I didn’t know what in the hell she was leading up too and I guess that for the minute it didn’t make much sense to me until she said “Jo…when you first saw Samantha what did you think.”  



I muttered back what I really thought of her that “He was just some grubby pissy sissy wimp boy and that I could punch his lights out in a split second.”



“Yes I’m sure you’d sized "him" up so to speak.  But now, knowing that Sam is really a she what is it you think of Sam now.”



“First, I wouldn’t punch her if that’s what you mean.  She’s dumb, she wants to be a boy  when she’s really a girl but even if she could she doesn’t know how to besides just look at her I mean even the greasers babes; Shirley and Monica, down on the corner don’t talk like her, they smoke…and they’re a whole lot tougher.”



“Well that bit of information is useful but what I was really after was a word to describe a girl who acts like a boy.  You see Jo, I could call you Fred or Hank or John but it wouldn’t be proper…you’d be missing something which is really yours…your name.  It’s the same way with a girl who acts as a boy; but with a girl it’s different because we’ve already provided her with a name…Tom.    Jo, a tomboy can be as boorish any real boy can be but she’ll always be a girl pretending to be a boy whose actually a girl.  You on the other hand have a girls name, well actually two, but you act too much like a boy; more unfortunately a boy who’s a bully to boot.”



Right then and there she could have stopped but she didn’t.  Instead she skootched the chair she was sitting in closer and whispered “In my family there used to be a time that when a lad found himself in trouble that someone might care enough about it and would take him aside and teach him the nuts and bolts of proper etiquette and decorum.  Dare I say that as you he didn’t care for it, no not a bit.  And there was many a time where he was quite embarrassed over it all which brings us to it:  Jo you’re too smart for own good and one day before too long if you keep on doing what it is that you do it’ll all come to no good.  Have I your undivided attention?”



I bobbed my head up and down a coupl’a times and then wiped some of the water off of my face that for some reason was leaking outta my eyes and said “Yeah.  At least your not slappin me around.”



She didn’t answer me right away and said “No, no I’m not but first we’ll begin with that; your first word that is” she said, “From here on out when I ask a simple question the proper reply is either “Yes ma’am” or “No ma’am.”   Now, do you have anything to say?”  



Sure I coud’da said what she wanted but I didn’t.  Besides I wasn’t all that sure what it was that she was leading up to but she lowered the boom on me a couple of seconds later when she told me what it was she that was going through her head with “Good, I’ll give you benefit of the doubt and be taking that as a “No ma’am.”  



She went on with “Here it is in a nutshell…literally you have no clothes to speak of except for a change of more again into what you’re wearing now.   So here we come to terms.  Staying here, you’ll have a bedroom to sleep in and food to eat.  You’ll help when asked and I will ask only once.  Moreover, what I lay out for you to wear, regardless of what it is, you will: and there is no amount crying that will change that.  Most certainly, I could threaten you and tell you that after your done with your carrying on that’d you’d find yourself over my knee bottom up and in for a whaling; but I won’t.  Not because I don’t believe in swatting a bare rump every now and then but in your case I don’t think it would do any good.  You need something different.   Instead, what you can count on is that shortly thereafter that you’ll find yourself out in the hallway waiting for someone to come along and pick you up.   With that said I won’t ever threaten you again.



“Now, do have anything to say to me?”



I started to yak at her “You, you’re going to…” and that’s when she up and pressed a finger right up against my lips and held it there while she told me “No…a reminder…remember…in this case you would begin your reply to me with “Yes ma’am” then you would continue with “You, you’re going to…”  Now, begin again…and this time from the beginning.  And Jo, you’re becoming red faced, take a deep breath and then let it all out.”



It was then she backed off and let me think about it all; and what I thought was real easy to understand.  I couldn’t go back down the hall to 5-A; but I sure as hell couldn’t go outside like I was.  I was here but all I could see was that she was gonna try and dress me like some tootie fruity girl; and if she did then I’d get pulverized.  So I did what I thought any wise guy would do…I caved.   I answered her back with “Yes ma’am.  What I was gonna say was…was…you’re not really gonna dress and make me all up to look like a stupid sissy girl are ya?”



“Jo, in case you haven’t noticed I’m a girl too but I’m not stupid. So by “stupid,” would you mean would I be dressing you as a girl just to let everyone know that you’re actually a boy who has a sissy girl’s name?  Deary, I’m neither as mean in your mind as you make me out to be nor as mean as your mother actually is.  For the record you won’t have to wear a dress; unless of course you decide that you want to.  That will be your choice.



“Jo, for being such a bright boy, you’ve missed the mark.  What I was proposing is quite simple.  For all intent and purpose I will lay out a suitable selection of clothes; some of which may or may not appeal to you.  In either case the decision to wear whichever is yours.  Now, do you have another question?”



I thought about and did so I said “Yes…I…uh…I mean…I’m sorry…Yes ma’am…I don’t understand, honestly.”



“So, it comes down to this and I’ll be honest with you and two girls who think that I haven’t heard them creep down the hallway after I told them to stay put…you both may as well step in…no one likes a sneak; especially me.  I take it from the looks on your faces that you’ve both heard everything?”



“Well, not everything” Becky said.  Sam was quick to add “Yeah, we just hoid enough…I mean jus for the last minute ya know.”



Becky’s mom muttered back “It didn’t sink in then did it?” and then just as quick added “Take a seat…both of you.”  Even if I wasn’t bleary eyed I still wouldn’t have looked at either of ’em; besides which, I knew which of ’em it was who started to giggle and just as quick shut up after  Mrs. McCandle snapped “Samantha, that is rude an uncalled for” and then just quick said “Jo, look at Samantha and tell me what you see.”



I closed my eyes and was gonna say what I really thought about her but before I could I felt that finger on lips again and heard her tell me “Jo, you may tell her what you actually think but remember, begin properly."



I took another deep breath and then said “Yes ma’am.”  I looked at Sam for couple of secs and sneered “She’s just a stupid girl pretending to be a hot shot boy; who she ain’t.  If she ever got into a fight with anyone they’d mop the floor with her before she could get a punch off.  Besides she couldn’t really fool anyone into thinking that she’s a boy…not for long anyway and ya wanna know why…I’ll tell ya…lookit the way she walks or moves her shoulders when she just stands…they’re always easing back and forth like she’s got an itch or something somewhere…besides if her cap ever came off her head everyone in the world would see that her hair is too long…besides look at her hands no boy would wear nail polish!”



Before Samantha could say a word it was Mrs. Candle who stopped her with “No Samantha.  Not a word.  Just sit and listen.  There isn’t a thing he said which isn’t true.  You’re a girl and if I remember correctly when dressed a quite attractive one.  Try as you will, playing the part of a tomboy is not your ideal cup of tea.  You see dear, before one and all, you are a girl,   pretending to be a boy who is actually a girl and everyone you meet knows that you are.  On the other hand, we have a situation here where Joseph, or Jo, is an unknown; with a little bit of help from friends it is far easier for him to pretend to be something that he is not as opposed to you.  Do you understand?”



It was Becky who elbowed her friend in the ribs and jibed her “She’s talking to you not him dufus!”  



I was surprised when she gulped and said “Yes ma’am, I think I do.  What you’re telling me is that since no one knows him around here he could get away with it…playing the part of a tomboy.  Mrs. McCandle, I’d like to see that…of course I’d like to help.  Especially if it means that I get to...well...I'll be honest...just like Beck I'd like to see more of him.”

[teddi]

“You would would you?  Well, I can tell you both that if either of you get any ideas of just how much you’ll be seeing…that for the most part it won’t be by yourselves that you’ll be doing it.  You’ve both done a good bit of baby sitting and both of you know the difference between changing a girl and a boy and of how little control a boy has when it comes to being touched down in between his legs; though I’m not at all certain, given Jo’s age, and here I’d be giving him the benefit of the doubt, what you’d be facing might be something a little more tempting if not challenging to resist.  That being said, the only times that both of you will see “more of him” will be when I’m around for him to get a quick change of his wet diapers or when he takes a bath, during which the door stays open at all times.  Of course by now, knowing the way your little minds are working overtime you’d be thinking of what happens when he has to poop:   for that you can unpin the diapers for him immediately at the bathroom door.    After that he can go in on his own and shut the door behind him, just leaving a crack; then when he’s wiped himself clean he can go back to the spare bedroom, lie down on the bed and get diapered; and if you’re thinking about doing what I think you are when I’m at work:  don’t!”



That’s when she paused and gave me a look then said “As for you, if you have any ideas kicking about in that head of yours which aren’t the least honorable…forget them and be quick about it!  Jo, you needn’t look so puzzled.  Right now you may be of a mind, like most boys your age, where girls are concerned they’re the last thing on your mind.  But I know a thing or two about boys as well and you’re just about at that age where the worm turns to where you find yourself thinking about nothing else and however large or small the worm which wiggles between your legs is, it will soon be telling you do things which while you’re here will only get you in trouble.”  



I guess that Becky and Sam knew what in the hell she was yakking about because they were all smiles; as for me I was clueless.  I mean, why in the hell would I even want to think about girls right now; especially with two of them who were going to be seein me with no clothes on.  I mean the look in their eyes made me cringe.  Besides which I thought what kind of trouble could I get into with two girls?  I didn’t even like ‘em.  I guess she wanted me to say something back at her, for whatever reason it was, but for the life of me all I did was shrug my shoulders at her.  That’s when she leaned closer to me and smiled all creepy like and then asked me “Jo, have you ever been on a farm?”  I shook my head from side to side and sat there and just stared back at her as dumb as a doorknob.



“No?  How sad.” She said.  â€œYou know that on a farm there are all sorts of animals don’t you?”  I thought it was too stupid a question to even try to answer so I didn’t say nothin and that’s when she finished her explanation to me with “On a farm before most male horses or mules get to be a year old they’re gelded:  in many ways; especially when it comes to sex,  it makes them easier to control.  We can’t do that with a girl.”  O.k. so I was stupid and still as dumb as a button which showed because I had that blank look of downright stupidity written all over my face which made her and the girls laugh.  â€œMom” Becky said “he really doesn’t have a clue:  let me explain?”



She didn’t wait and went right in on me with “Look, boys and girls are built different right?”  I gave her a “Duhhh what else is new?” which for some reason made all three of ‘em laugh and while I knew they were laughing at me I didn’t know why.  I mean why should I’ve?  Anyhow after they giggle and smirk with each other Becky tells me straight out “Terry Jo, you know those two things that are right under your peeeeen-is….well if I was on a farm and if I was to hold something like those in the palm of my hand and then squeeze ‘em together just tight enough enough for me to...” and that’s when she made believe that she was cutting something off and made a “swish-swish” sound.  



I guess the puzzled look on my face gave way to what I kinda figured that she was suggesting and without thinking I made sure that I closed my legs together while I let my wide eyed mouth drop open wide enough to catch flies.  I swallowed a coupla times and then pushed myself back and away from all of them because I sure didn’t want any part of what they were telling me that gelding was all about.



That’s when I looked as Mrs. McCandle and shook my head from side to side.  She reached out with her right hand and lifted it and my mouth off floor and closed it for me.   Of all the things that were running through my head I wasn’t gonna ask why she ever brought that up and if she was serious and if the three of them were gonna laugh at doin’ something like that I wasn’t; so I just sat there all quiet like and figured that I’d keep my mouth shut.  It wasn’t long after that that Mrs. McCandle said “Rebecca, while I cook lunch go into my room; my purse is on my dresser.  Take five dollars out of it.   I’d like you and Samantha to run an errand for me.”



“Mother!  I want to stay and...and…help.”



“Yes, yes, I understand.  You want to stay…and…”help.”  Rebecca McCandle I wasn’t born yesterday; I know what you want to do.  I was your age once too.  Now then, you can start off by helping me by running a simple errand; you will help me won’t you?”



“Of course Mother…but I don’t understand why I can’t…”

“Because, Rebecca Evangeline McCandle, I said so, that’s why.”



She almost pouted “It’s not fair” which almost made me smirk but I bit my lip when I heard Mrs. McCandle tell her “It’s more than fair and far more considerate than making someone continuously uneasy.”  â€œMother, what are you talking about; he hasn’t got a ….”



“Rebecca, I know he doesn’t; but I do.  I’m the one who’s feeling uneasy because I can see the looks of opportunity on both of your faces.  Now tell me that your hungry eyes haven’t undressed him already twice over and that I’m wrong and I’ll let the matter drop.”



“But Mom I want to…”

“Yes, I know that may be what you want but the answer is still no.  If the shoe were on the other foot so to speak how would you feel?  What would you want then?” She waited for an answer which to my surprise was exactly what I was thinking and for some reason that one of them, Sam, started off with “I guess that I’d want to be left alone” and that Becky finished off with by interrupting “and not have anyone…anyone…stare at them…or think that I was staring…which I wasn’t…was I? … O.K. so maybe I was…a little… but…but…I just…”



“Rebecca,” her mom said, “… just go down to the 5 & 10 and pick me up a Bobbi along with a bottle of Prell, we’re out.  Ohhh, and some bobby pins too.”



Being a boy how should I’ve known any better when Becky kinda let the cat outta the bag of what was gonna happen with “Mom, you never use Bobbi you always go down to the…ohh…OHH…I see wh….”



“What?” interrupted Sam.  â€œBec…what’d I miss…give!”

“Shut up Sam! C’mon lets go!”

“Where?”

“To my Mom’s room first stupid!”

“Don’t call me stupid!  I told you to be careful and not stare at him right between his legs before we came down the hall.  I’m not the one who got caught undressing him with my eyes like you were!”

“Was not!”

“Were too! ”

“Yea, well you an me both!”

“Well you should know!”



They said some other stuff between them but all I could hear from the room was Sam’s “OHH, that’s why…” and some giggling.  After that they beat feet back down the hallway and Becky waived the five spot at her mom and yelled “We’ll be right back!”  I heard them giggling as they ran down the corridor and listened to their footsteps as they started clomping down the stairs.  There wasn’t much for me to say so I didn’t and sitting there I started to wonder about what really was gonna happen to me and that’s when Mrs. McCandle looked at me and said “Jo, while they’re gone, please go run the bathwater and get yourself cleaned up.  And if you have a need use the toilet before they get back.  I’ll be in shortly to check on you.”  Naturally, I didn’t move.  I was too surprised too, after all she said that I’d have to take a whiz in what I was wearing so…”



“So, are you going to sit there all day or will you be waiting for an audience before getting on with what I asked you to do?”  



Not knowing what to say I just said “Yes ma’am I heard ya but I’m confused” and that’s when she said “Jo, remember I told you one time that I trusted you; well, with only me here there’s no reason for you to wear protection.  Right now I’m more concerned about what either of them would do with you rather than the other way around.  Jo, forgive me for asking, but I am curious, what exactly do know about the birds and the bees?”  



I hadda tell her the truth; I knew all about the birds and the bees and told her so in no uncertain terms starting off with “Well, I think that all bees sting and that honey bees go from flower to flower to make honey; as for the birds, well, they fly higher than anything else except for airplanes and rockets and that some of them can sing; like canaries.”



“I see” she said “Is there anything else?”  

“No, I mean, sorry, no ma’am, what else is there?”

“There is…sex?”

“Mrs. McCandle, is that a question? ‘Cause if it is I know all about it too.”

“You do?”

“Yes ma’m.  I’m a boy not a girl.”

“And?”

“And what?  There’s more?”

“No Terry Jo, for right now that’s all I needed to know.  Go on now, into the bathroom with you and make certain you clean behind your ears; I’ll be in to check on you shortly.  Be off with you.”  I still didn’t move so she asked “Well that’s the second time you haven’t moved; are you waiting for an audience?”  



“Yes ma’m…I mean no…no ma’am I don’t want no audience…I…I uh…just need to ask you something” I said, “Well, actually, maybe a  coupla questions?”



“Seems fair to me, go ahead; but be quick about it.”



“You’re a Mrs. so that means that there’s a Mr? Right?  So I was wondering, what’s he gonna say when he comes home with me being here?”

She almost bit my head off with her “Nothing,” comeback as she snapped at me, “your next question?”  



“Did I say something wrong?”

“No.  No…we’re…Rebecca and I…we’re just waiting for him to come home.”

“You mean from work?”

“No…well…yes…from work.  He’s just late getting home from work.  Why do you ask?”



“No reason except I just thought I’d ask…because…well…I don’t know my dad, never did…he left us before I was even born so I don’t really care about him.”  I waited a sec before I said anything else, it was then I noticed her twirling and then rubbing the wedding ring on her finger; it was almost like it was Aladdin’s Lamp and that she was gonna make a wish on it.  I was too stupid to know any better so I asked her “You like him?”



“Jo, why on earth would you ask me a cheeky question like that?”

“You mean I shouldn’t ever ask you anything?”

“I didn’t say that.  What I meant was that it was a very personal question.”

“Uhh uh, yea, I was thinking about you.”  

“Me?”



“Yea.  Ohh sorry, I should’a said yes ma’am.  I just thought that if he came home and found me here that he’d be angry with you and then I’d hav’ta leave anyway.  So I was just wondering when he comes home from work then…then uhhh…won’t he be angry at you about me and start to yell at ya and do stuff?  So maybe maybe you might wanta think about it again?”



“Jo, let me get straight, are you asking me if I want to change my mind about you staying here because your concerned about what my husband would say or do before he even meets you or speaks with me?”



“Well, isn’t that what I sorta asked, so then yea, I guess so.”  



That’s when she up and moved closer to me gave me the once over and said “Terri Jo, this is 1953, my husband Patrick has been missing in action since December of ’52; it’s close to seven months…and he hasn’t come home yet; but when he does…” that’s when she stopped talking; then told me “he’s the kind of man who…who’d tell you listen to me; now, don’t worry.  The bathroom is down the hall to the left.  Now, stand up and come closer and let me unpin those.” And that’s what I let her do after which she told me to “Go take you’re your bath while I start lunch.  I'll bring you a towel shortly and help dry you off.”  



Close to forty-five minutes later after getting soaped up the ying-yang she had me diapered again before the girls made it back; the only problem I had with that was that instead of her letting me wear that kimbono that I had on before she gave me a choice of picking out from some long T shirts, two that were pink and one white. Problem was that they all had ruffles and stuff on ‘em and since I wasn’t no girl I thought that picking the white one made me less of a sissy than the others; at least that’s what I thought until Becky and Sam walked in with their packages and saw me sitting at the kitchen table.  



That’s when Becky hadda open her big mouth and go on about how when she bought it with her mom that it cost all of .98 cents and that it was made out of something called polyester;  and that it had simple drawn-thread work at the neckline and hem.  She made it worse by cooing about its 2.5" wide ruffle at what she called the hem and almost came unglued because “…it was machine-embroidered at the chest with a white flower and leaves.  Mom, this was one of my most favorites!”



Me, I really didn’t know what it was.  As for Sam she said "I like slips like that too."  Of course stupid me, I still didn’t catch on about of what a slip was:  I thought it was really stupid to be talking about something that’s happened to you when you’ve almost broke your keester on ice or that you just made a mistake on a test and just slipped up; so o'l dumb me, I just smiled back at her like the stupid dork wad that I was.



Anyway, it wasn’t too long after that that after we ate lunch that Mrs. McCandle tells me to put my head under the kitchen sink so she can shampoo it with this green stuff and after she did she rinsed it all out; but just before she started to dry my hair and letting me comb it like I would she went and wrapped my head up with that towel like it was a turban and told me to “…just sit still for a couple of minutes while I get my scissors.”  



And with that off she goes and leaves me sitting there with those girls just a smiling away at me like they knew something that I didn’t.  Well, hell yea they did because not three or four minutes later here she comes back again and not only does she have a pair of barbers scissors with her but also some kind of package with a long rubber looking hose or coil all wrapped up neat and tidy like right beside it.  Me, I didn’t know jack and I guess that was all for the better because no sooner had she plopped that stuff on the table she said “Rebecca, be a dear and set up my hair dryer.”  



That’s when Sam started to ask Becky all sorts of questions like “How hot does it get?”



“It’s the latest, got three settings:  warm, hot, then superhot!”

“Very funny…no really…that’s brand knew; maybe my dad’l get me one.  How long does it take…you know it takes almost a half an hour at….”

“Yea we know now shut up already stupid.”



Which if I knew any better maybe I would have peed right then and there; but not knowing a dimes worth I was still just sittin staring at this off brown piece of whatever it was and watching Becky uncoil the electrical cord that ran to it; plug it in to the outlet and then just like that hitch that grey coiled hose to it.  It wasn’t long after that that she pulled out some grey plastic bag and went about hitching up the other end of the hose to it and said “There” when she’d finished.



Personally, to me, it looked like some kind of gas mask except for the box with the slits in it and with the cord stuck to it.   It was right after that that Mrs. McCandle took off that towel that she’d wrapped around my head and started to comb my hair out starting at the middle and then parting it out and down over my ears.  



That’s when I told her flat out  â€œThat’s…not the way…I comb my hair” and  that’s when everyone just looked at me and smiled; Mrs. McCandle told me “Jo, we already know that.” she replied “No tomboy would ever wear a DA so the question for you is how little can we comb it and still make it suitable for a tomboy?



"You see, well probably you don’t, the best disguise is one in which it is so obvious that it is overlooked; that’s what I intend to do for you.  Now listen carefully, I won’t be cutting much off of the sides or back; they’re long enough for what I expect so I’ll be evening up some of the edges.  But as for the front; that’s way too long so it’s the place we’ll take the most from.”  That’s when I started to hem and haw and start to squiggle and just before I could ask her “What?”



Sam chimes in with her two cents worth with “Mrs. McCandle, just before we came up we stopped by 1-B and picked up some of my old stuff.”



“Stuff, what kind of stuff?

Oh, just the usual you know, they’d be sort’a like hand me downs that I’d outgrown:  coveralls, blouses, socks and a coupla pair of …

[teddi]

of saddle shoes, a plain white party dress, two pairs of Mary Jane’s and a pair dungarees.  Since I’m bigger and about four inches taller than he is I figure that whatever doesn’t fit me he can try to wear if he wants.   Oh, and if it makes any difference I threw in some cami’s and some other stuff that I didn’t want too.”

I couldn’t hold it back, I turned my head to look at her and almost screamed it out “Other stuff?!”  What makes you think that I’d ever want to wear any of your girls’ clothes anyway?  I’m no sissy!”

“Listen,” she said all uppity, “I didn’t say you were.  You know you’re really not too swift; not all of my stuff is for girls…in case you hadn’t noticed I do have boy’s clothes too…but if you’re too good to wear anything that I’d ever think of loaning to you especially like my dungarees…well…”

“Sam, wait a second…don’t go and ruin it!” interrupted Becky.

“No, you wait a sec…” I said to Becky as I turned my head back to Samantha, “You mean to tell me that you have some boy’s clothes like real dungarees and stuff in those bags that I could wear?”

“Your too much!  Isn’t that what I just said; but yea, that and more, but some of the other stuff is really expensive and they’re mine. So since I’m a girl and they’re mine I guess that means that you won’t want to wear them then; right?  That is what you said isn’t it?” she said shrugging her shoulders as she went on with “So…that’s o.k. with me…no skin of my nose.  See if I care.  I’m not the one who’s sitting here with nothing like you are.”

I watched her push herself back and lean herself up against the back of the chair, stretch out and then slide her skinny butt down along the chairs seat and smile at me just knowing that she had at least a couple ’a things that I desperately wanted from her.  She knew she had me over a barrel.  At that second I hadda give her credit, she may have been a girl but she acted just like any boy would’ve.  As for me, then and there, hearing that she had some other boy’s clothes meant exactly that they could be some chinos along with some real polo shirts.  I only half heard any of the other stuff she was talking about like socks:  socks were socks what could be wrong with them?  And as for something that she called saddle-shoes, well,  I figured in some way they had to do with horses and that they might be some sort of cowboy boot or something like that.   Right then and there I wasn’t too worried because to be honest the only thing I really knew anything about was that blouses were really girl’s shirts and that a dress was a dress.  I mean, how was I supposed to know about anything else that she was blabbing about like her three sets of classic puffed styled, button back, barboteuse’s for boys.

Bar-bo-tozes; or whatever they were was all news to me; all I heard was that they was made for boys.  Besides, as far as I was concerned, I knew that if I could get her to loan me all of the boys’ clothes she had that might fit that I might be close to outta the woods.  The question was how was I gonna go about asking for ‘em without lookin really stupid.  I figured that I’d just have’ta  bide my time until the matter came up again and that just maybe she would just toss the bag over to me and just like that tell me “here you can wear ‘em.”

Sure, maybe I should’a known better, but it never crossed my mind that when she and Becky looked at each other and smiled that it really meant something else; besides at the time it didn’t make me no never mind because before I could say anything back to her while she was just sitting there looking all so pleased with herself Mrs. McCandle had gone and turned the chair I was sitting in away from the table so’s I could face her; covered me from the neck down with an old sheet, pinned it behind my neck, like Mr. Mesina the barber would, lifted my chin up to look at her and was  just starting to comb down the front of the hair on my head as Sam goes on an asks her “Mrs. McCandle, you won’t get mad at me if I ask you something will ya?”

Besides hearing the scissors she was starting to use like hedge clippers going snip-snip-snippity-snip I heard her say “No Samantha, I don’t think so, but then again, that would depend upon what it is.”  They both looked at each other for a coupla sec’s and that’s when Mrs. McCandle asks her “So will you be asking me or shall we play “I’ve Got a Secret.  Do either of you have secret?” while I’m busy trying to puff and blow away some of the hair she’d cut that’d dropped on my lips and was trying to stick to my tongue.

“Secret?  No why? Honestly,” she says while giving Becky a quick keep your mouth shut-up look “no real secrets” she says “why would you ask something like that.”

Becky’s mom just smiled back at her, then gave me a once over like a barber never would do and started to cut away again. “Just wondering that’s all.” She said “So go ahead…ask.”

She stopped cutting just long enough to size me up again but just before she started to whack away on me again she turned her head back to Sam and said “Samantha, I’m listening, go on while I take care of all of these split ends” and just as soon as she says that she starts in by tugging away and snipping at my hair all over the place and I gotta tell ya, that just sitting there watching my hair tumble down around my face and lap made my stomach sink because my DA wasn’t gonna be any more and I thought that that suc-ked big time.

“O.K.  You know” Sam said as she watched me flinch with each clip of the scissors “when Beck and me were on our way down to Woolworth’s we were talking about…well you know how he’s a boy and not a girl and…and…well…that we thought…we thought that it would be…ohh I can’t tell it the way we talked about it because it doesn’t come out sounding right.  I mean I tried my hardest but if I can’t act the way a real boy does how can he act the other way around?  When he goes downstairs if anyone finds out it’ll be moida.” 

I was gonna ask her “Did you just figure that out all by yourself or did Einstein help you” but didn’t.  She was on a roll so why be a buttinski and ruin it all.

Anyhow, Becky tried to add her two cents worth with “Yea, mom it’ll be moida...it be like sending a…” but before she could finish Sam elbowed her in the ribs muttering “Shaddup stupid you’ll go’n ruin everything!”

To which after throwing an elbow of her own and pushing Sam almost out of her seat she went ahead and blessed her with “Stupid?  Who you callin’ stupid?  I ain’t that stupid you moron! You’re the one that’s…”

“Girls, enough already!  I’ve seen the looks between you both and don’t either of you give me that sweet and innocent look.  Rebecca, what exactly are you and Samantha up to?"

“Nothing!” they both said at the same time.

“Nothing?  Doesn’t sound like “nothing” to me; from the sounds of it it could be serious.”

“Whaddya mean could be? Yea, it’s serious!  I’m sorry, but Mrs. McCandle, me, o.k., I know I’m a girl who acts like a boy…sometimes…but I can get away with it because people I know know it’s me and I guess for some reason they still like me.  So we were all worried, like what happens to him if they find out?  I mean look at him; first off he’s a greaser!  My god until you washed it…” she nodded at me while Becky just went along and stared “his hair‘s been a mess and even if you style it and managed to get the Bobbi to half-way fix that part up just look at his face…I mean no tomboy would ever look the way he does…well maybe they would if they didn’t tweeze their eyebrows for a year but even if you got past that look at his finger nails or what’s left of them, they’re filthy!  Besides, we’ve both seen him walk and he most definitely doesn’t walk like a girl.  How’s he gonna act like one when he’s hopeless?”

“Yea you should know about hopeless” I bit back out loud at her as I tried to spit the rest of the hair that got stuck in my mouth out and I was all set to really tell her off but before I could Mrs. McCandle pinched my cheeks together while she turned my head back around to face her and told flat our “Enough, ignore her and not another word from you, just look straight at me” and then just as quick said “Samantha, besides being rude, what exactly is the nothing that you both are you leading up too?”

“Mom, we weren’t trying to be rude or anything else, honest” Becky said.  “Sam’s right, If you haven’t noticed, most the time he swaggers when he walks.”

“You’ve noticed that he does does he now?”

“Yea” said Sam “I mean I’ve seen him too, at least a couple of times; shoulders all thrown back and fists swinging and swaying by his sides like he’s always showing off and ready to fight…almost daring anyone to even get close to him. But that’s beside the point!”

“And what pray tell is the point?”

The point is…let’s say he does go downstairs what then?  Is all he gonna do is just stand around and not move?  Sooner or later someone will ask him to do something what then?  I mean, how’s he gonna fit in with the rest of us girls because even if he had a pair of my dungarees on now that he’s wearing diapers ain’t no pants gonna cover ‘em up!  His butts gonna stick out like a sore thumb and then BOOM! his lights go out!  Anyhow what we’re saying is that he doesn’t even come close to looking or acting anything like us and we don’t think he even knows how to jump rope, play jacks or even play potsy:  so there.”
 
So right then and there I thought I didn’t really like her all that much.  Not because of what she said which was really all the truth but because she sounded so damn sure of everything she said and how she said it with me just sitting there taking it all in.  Me, and I guess they knew it too,  that I didn’t care crap about girls stuff; and that if my life depended on it I didn’t know what in the hell jacks was except for what you used to fix a flat tire with  or why I’d even want to play some stupid girls game like potsy.  I mean the couple a times I ever stopped to watch anyone play it was to watch ‘em bend over while they were trying to pick up what they’d thrown in one of the squares and hope that their dress would fly up that way I could peek at what they were wearing underneath:  for boys that’s what that game was for; otherwise, if you were a boy and played it you were just plain outright a wimp sissy because no self-respecting boy would even dream of playing with the girls when there were other guys down out on the street to do stuff with. 

Anyhow, the other thing which hit me was simple and not too hard to understand…she was the stuck up messenger who enjoyed telling me everything that I already knew, had mulled over some way or another and had tried to push out of my mind just as quick.  She knew that there was no way I could go anywhere looking like I did or for that matter of fact there was no way that unless I could do something really off the wall I couldn’t do anything that would even come close to not giving me away.   I’d stick out like a sore thumb. 

So as I sat there, listening to her go on about how much trouble I’d be in if anyone caught me I kind’a talked to myself, “Oh really, you should talk, you don’t know jack.” And after I did I swallowed down and tried to clear my ears and heard “Is that so?” from Mrs. McCandle.

I blurted out “I did what you said…I didn’t say anything back to her honest!” The three of them just looked at me like I was really in the middle of some kind of a loud brain fart; you know the kind where everyone around you knows you said something to yourself that no one else heard knowing that just as soon as you’ve said it you’ve not only screwed up but really made a butthead of yourself and that you just hope that everyone who heard your brains leaking out all over the place will just as soon forget you said anything rather than to sit there and look at you like you’ve been smoking too much reefer.

That’s when you hope that someone will step in and save you like Mrs. McCandle did when she laughed out loud and said “Yes, but you’re thinking way to loud; we were listening to Samantha who’ll continue. 

“Yea, what I was saying is…say that he does go down stairs…I mean with only him wearing whatever it is you got here of Becks there’s only so much you can do with him ain’t there?  Beck ain’t got no dungarees big enough to cover his butt mine might. That’s why we stopped by my place and picked up some stuff that might help a little; but he’s already made up his mind and just because it’s mine he won’t even try.  You know if he tried, even just a little bit not to be such a stubborn bonehead it might help; but will he try just a little bit…nooooooooooooo.  All we hear is “I’m no sissy.”  Well if that’s his attitude I’ll take my stuff back and he can just go ahead and get his lights put out; see if I care!”

Just hearing that set me off inside.  I mean, what was I supposed to say back to her “Oh yes, please stay, because I’m just a little sissy whose dying for you to let me wear your girlie clothes even if some of them are for boys so I can look all tootie-fruity too?  Or, should I go ahead and try to walk like I’ve got a hitch in my git-a-long too because there’s a cork stuffed up my butt?  No, on second thought maybe I should just go ahead and start talking with a listhp like “Thewiouwsy, would you wet me wear your cwowths?  Pwetty pwease with wots an wots of shugar on top?  I mean would I look better if I just keep my knees together while I hold my arms up  and shuffle when I walk like I gotta hurry and go tinkle all the time? Yea right that’d really go over!  No, it wouldn’t and I knew it: not because of me but because of her.  She wanted to be a boy more than anything else in the world.  I already was one and what was worse for her was that even if I were to wear some of her clothes, she knew that there was nothing that she could do to prove herself about it either way; and that’s when she really got all worked up and said  “Personally I don’t think he’s so tough.  Maybe he’d like to fight me!” 

“Samantha!”

“Well” she said back at Mrs. McCandle “I’m bigger than he his and I can hit hard too, see my fists?” I guess I knew better than to laugh at the way that she made what she considered her dukes:   two limp wristed palms up thumb covered by fingers all ready to break on contact fists.  I coughed but didn’t spit out any more hair; not because I couldn’t but because I felt sorry for her:  she was so clueless. She wanted to be a boy in the worst way and she thought she was tough but actually she was pretty pitiful and for that I felt sorry for her.  But then, not two seconds later she goes on saying “Even my dad says that if I ever hit anyone with these that they’d could really hurt someone but just to be sure that when I do to make just as angry and mean a face as any boy can, see” that’s when looking at the twisted up face she made I couldn’t help myself and almost fell outta the chair when I started laughing my butt off.

[teddi]

Not that I could help it; I mean, what’re supposed to do when someone thinks that the face they seriously make to really try to scare ya is only gonna make whoever it is think that you’re a squirrely buck toothed looking dork wad who hasn’t got the good sense to turn around a run before you get the ever loving crap beat outta you!  Anyhow, there she stood looking at me like I’d lost my mind and I could see her wheels turning behind her eyes because she actually thought she really really might look like a wise guy and it didn’t take long for her, after I sat myself back up and let Mrs. McCandle keep on cutting, to ask me straight out and all serious and upset with “What’s…so…funny?”

“You are” I said with a grin as I saw another wisp of hair fall past my nose.

 â€œI am not funny, I’m being mean!  See?” she said baring her teeth at me while shaking her head from side to side; feinting jabs with both of her limp wristed fists and then adding “my dad always tells me “Sam, if it came down to a fight, I know that if I saw that face and those hands in my stuck in my face I’d have to think twice about tangling with you.”  So there Mr. Smarty Pants what does YOURS tell YOU”

After that question, for me, ya coulda heard a pin drop.  I knew before that girls always fight dirty; and it was one of the reasons why I never wanted to hit a girl for real.  Except in this case I thought about it and gulped down the big lump in my throat that had just grown and just whispered back a horse “Nothing.”

“Thought so” she said with a snide knowing smile as she went on with “Besides, my dad says that…”

I couldn’t take any more.  “He’s your dad.  He says that just to be nice to ya” I interrupted “That’s all, that’s all it really is.”
I didn’t say nothing back to her when she asked “Waddya mean by that?”

 I was kinda surprised that Mrs. McCandle didn’t get in the middle of it all even when Sam got really red faced and torqued at me not answering her right away.   â€œOhh your nothing but a jerk!  My dad told me I looked rough enough to handle myself and I am and I can prove it too.  Look, hold out one of your hands with your palm facing me” like this she shouted showing me what she wanted me to do with her right hand stuck in my face.

“Then what?” I asked acting like a dumb sh.it while still waiting for Mrs. McCandle to say something; but didn’t.  “Then I’m gonna hit it and boy are you gonna hurt!  Then you’ll be sorry.” 

I shot back a know it all “Yea right.”

She.  Really pissed.  “Go ahead, do it and yu’d better make sure you hold it still and let me hit it!  Or else!”

“Or else?  Your pitiful, go ahead, knock yourself out” as I stretched my hand palm out and waited watching her feet to see if she was a righty or southpaw.  Neither foot moved.  Instead she telegraphed a pathetically weak right which she threw to my left.  Contact made less noise than a good slap on the wrist.  As for hurt:   me; heck no.  Her, besides being surprised that I didn’t even flinch:  yea.   First clue:  hearing the knuckle of her thumb pop and then seeing her face realizing that it actually hurt.

As for Mrs. McCandle:  she kept cutting an didn’t say nothin except for “I believe I’m done; but before we finish up with your hair, I’ll be needing you to turn, face me and then close your eyes.  I need to work on your face  for a while.” 

That’s what I was gonna do right after I watched Sam rubbing, then pulling on her thumb and trying to shake it out; but just before I did Sam chimed in and said “It only hurts because you tricked me!”
 
“Oh that’s rich,” I said. “I tricked you?” 
“Yeah! You did!”
“How?”
“You didn’t pull your hand back like your supposed to that’s why it hurt!”

“Listen Einstein, you’re the one who told me to hold it still; besides, when you block a punch you’re not supposed to pull your hand back when somebody’s trying to hit it so I didn’t do nothin except what you asked me to do.  You hurt yourself because you don’t know jackshit about how to fight!  Someone shoulda told ya that you can’t even make a fist!  Maybe, for some reason, whoever it is that’s been pulling their hands back when ya hit ‘em was only trying to be nice to ya and didn’t want ya to hurt yourself because you’re a girl.   I’m not one, so if you hurt yourself because you wanted to prove how tough you are:  that’s tough!”

That’s when Mrs. McCandle got in the middle of it with her telling “Samantha, he’s right.  When I was your age my brothers taught me a thing or two so if the need arose that I could take care of myself or at least try to.  He only did what you asked:  nothing more.”

“You’re sticking up for him?!  He hurt me!  On purpose!”

“Nonsense:  he did no such thing and as for sticking up for him on that I will.  Now then, if you’ve a mind to get up and leave like a little girl would; be quick about it, I’ve got too much to do and can’t be bothered with it otherwise. Yu know, Samantha, you’ll be doing yourself a favor by understanding a simple fact.  Do I have your attention?”  She nods.    “Good then, you’re a smart girl, who, if the occasion presents itself, could learn a thing or two from a boy who needs to learn from your experience simply as girl.  Now either leave or sit there and think about it while I tend to Jo.”   

Sure I could tell ya that I was amazed that some lady had gone and actually stuck up for me but I’d be lying if told ya it felt good.  It felt better than that but inside it hurt too.  I closed my eyes and waited like she asked me to do and that’s when I heard her tell me “Jo, what I have to do next is very important, so please just sit still, keep your eyes closed like they are now and lift your chin up a bit.”

I did just that then felt her touching my face right over my eyes like she was either brushing the loose hairs that fallen onto my face, which felt nice, or was smoothing something out.  Right after that I felt something else, cold, moving right over the spot she’d just touched and then all of a sudden something pulling at one of the hairs over my eyes and just before I opened them she said “This will sting a bit” then pulled tight against whatever it was that she latched onto; and just like that pulled even harder. That’s when I heard her say “Got it” with me saying “Ow.”  I opened my eyes to see both Sam and Becky giggling and smiling at me and at what she’d done.  I looked up at Mrs. McCandle and practically yelled at her “Why in the hell did you do that?"  I expected to get it across the chops. 

Instead, she showed me what I knew were tweezers holding a big brown hair she’d just yanked out and flat out told me “I started with that one because that’s the worse of what you should feel; not only because it was large but because of where it was located.  You can rub the smart for a bit” which I did with a scowl.   While I was rubbing the hell out of it she went on with “Unfortunately there are several more you’ll loose on either brow but by the time I’m done you shouldn’t feel the last of them: at least I hope not.  As for the bridge over your nose, I’ll be doing that first and making it a wee bit wider.  Jo, I can see the look on your face; believe me, I’m really not trying to be mean to you on purpose:   in case you hadn’t noticed even for a tomboy” she glanced over and nodded at Sam “girls’ eyebrows are normally spaced further apart than boys.”

I sat there and didn’t say nothin’:  didn’t have to.  Just looked at Becky and Sam-couldn’t help it ‘cause they knew what was gonna happen and with the smiles on their pusses it didn’t make me feel all that good anyway.  Mrs. McCandle was just about set to go after another one when I pulled away from her a bit and said “What you really mean is that you’re gonna go ahead and yank a lot more out and make me look like a stupid girl even if I don’t want ya to?”


“No, most definitely not a stupid girl: Jo, after you make a first impression; merely a suggestive and then passable tomboy.”

“What?”

“Jo, all of what we’re doing won’t be as drastic as you think and is temporary:  your hair will all grow back; including the ones in your eyebrows some of which you’re about to lose.  The truth is that in order for this to work you need to make a good first impression after which it might be easier for you to pass yourself off as a tomboy without having to wear a dress all the time.

 â€œIt’s not fair.”  I said “Besides, we?  We? You really mean you don’t you?   I ain’t doin’ nothin ’cause I don’t wanna be a girl or a tomboy and I know I don’t wanna wear no dress all the time.  All I wanna do is …  hey… wait a sec…what did you mean by what you said…you know…the part about making a good first impression?”

“Jo, you’re quick, but that’s the hardest part for you to get past.  You know what I meant and the sooner it is that you make at least one grand appearance down on the street without getting into a fight as a girl, the sooner the worst will be over.  Shall we begin?