Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => 2011-2018 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: teddi on October 18, 2010, 11:14:21 PM
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All I knew about the whole thing was that we were moving to the Bronx out of the one bedroom second floor rat-hole apartment on Steinway Ave. When I say rat hole, that’s exactly what it was ’cause the mice would often come out of their holes and run across the floor to another spot, stop, look around and then scurry off to another place which they thought was a lot better for whatever purpose that suited their needs. The only problem was they never stopped. Day or night they were the constant reminder that they, not us, my mother and me, ruled the roost. As for my dad I never saw him and new even less about him.
Honestly, I wasn’t the least upset that we were leaving the place; especially because of all the things that happened to me there but then again that’s another story or two. Anyhow, I knew all about the place, the apartment that we were moving to. It was on the fifth floor, A side, on Sheridan Ave; but the only bad thing was that it didn’t have an elevator. You had to walk five flights up or down carrying yourself or lugging whatever else it was that you had with you all the way in both directions.
Grandma’s apartment was big, at least for a kid like me of ten and a half. It had three bedrooms and a full bathtub: one that didn’t have rust around it or holes in the sides at the top of it where the faucet was. I should add that the only reason we were moving from where we were to her place was because she was moving to Florida and the only way that we could move out was to move in before it was, as my mother told someone else she was talking to, “let out.” I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about…how could you let a whole apartment out? Out of what?
Anyhow, an added bonus for a rough and ready boy like me, who liked to fight, was the fact that I could go out and trash someone so I thought it was a great place! Whenever we’d go over and visit I’d rarely go upstairs, except to say hi and then to use the bathroom, because I found out that there were so many boys that I could literally whale the crap out of! I should tell you that me and my mother were not the best of friends. To be honest I loathed her not only because she’d beat the hell out of me but also because of all the mind games crap that she’d use on me. I guess that’s why I did it, fight that is.
Normally, after saying hello and goodbye to my grandmother, I’d jump at the chance to get away from them both; especially my mother, run downstairs, push open the front doors to the courtyard and then bound away from them after literally leaping over the successive four step stoops which fronted the apartment and onto Sheridan Ave. Minutes later, I’d find myself at the entry to the subway along the Grand Concourse and wait. It was a good place to meet kids who were either my size or several inches taller not only because of the subway but because of Borelli’s corner candy store which was nearby. It didn’t make any difference to me who it was. If it was a lone boy I wanted to fight him, regardless.
I was always eager to get there and when I did I camped out and waited for some sorry butt to make his way towards me. Of course, I’d introduce myself and tell him in no uncertain terms that, “This is my corner and since you’re here you have to fight me.” The dumb look on their faces was great. Some, though few, were eager; but I thought the others who didn’t were sissies and told them so. The truth was I didn’t care. I wanted to fight even if they didn’t. I wanted to make each one of ’em cry. Unfortunately for me, I picked a fight with a kid who I’d trashed before; after I beat the hell out him again he ran crying and bleeding down a flight of stairs into some doctors’ office. The doctor came out all bent out of shape and threatened to call the cops on me. I gave him the Bronx cheer, flipped him off and then strutted down the side street back to Sheridan Ave.
Unfortunately for me I never made it to the corner because before I could turn it I was lifted up right off the sidewalk. Well, it wasn’t all like a gentle up you go sort of a lift, it was more like a yank your butt right up here off of the ground and get twisted around type. Naturally, I was surprised as hell and started to yell out, “What the fuc.!” and I swung out with a right cross before I could see who the hell had actually grabbed me from behind from the collared shirt I was wearing and luckily stopped short of landing it to the red faced puss of a big NYCP cop who was now staring me right in the kisser.
He stared me in the face and said “Glory be you’re a handful aren’t you.” I knew better than to razz this guy but I still scowled at him and didn’t say a thing. I figured that sooner or later that something would hit the fan and being the mean little kid that I was I wasn’t about to make life for him any easier. So I let him do all the talking. “You live around here?” I didn’t answer. “You got a name?” I didn’t answer. “Tough guy eh?” I shrugged my shoulders as best I could given the circ-umstances and smirked at him. “Well listen up tough guy, we can do this the easy way or you can come down to the station with me, what’ll it be?”
I swallowed my pride and murmured just one word, “Easy.” I didn’t know how big this guy was until he began to lower me back down to the concrete sidewalk. I had to admit this was the biggest dam guy I’d ever seen in my life and the one other thing that I was sure of was that I sure as hell glad that I didn’t land the punch that I started to. Any way, as soon as my P.F. Fliers touched the ground I thought to beat feet; but that was a bad idea. He hadn’t let go of my collar so I just got jerked backwards and heard him start to laugh while telling me in no uncertain terms, “Oh no you don’t! Why don’t you and me take a walk to where you live and if you try that one more time you can cool your heels at the station. Now, you walk, I’ll follow and if you know what’s good for you, you’d better walk straight to wherever it is and when we get there I better find someone there who’ll claim you.”
I did what anyone else in that situation would do. I walked him back up to the apartment and heard the razzing of some of the kids who gawked and hooted at me and him…well they stared mostly at me as he was actually frog marching me right up to the main entry door of the six story tenement where he then loosened his grip a bit and let me go up the stairs before him two steps at a time. The poor guy huffed and puffed the last flight but never let go of my shirt. I led him right to 5-A and stopped at the crap colored brown door and waited.
He asked me for my last name and I gave it to him. He pressed the buzzer a couple of times, didn’t hear nothin and then knocked on it loud enough to make the next door neighbor in 5-B open hers. I knew her too. My mother always told me to call her aunt Vera. She wasn’t really my aunt but anyhow that’s what I did. In any case it was my mother who came to the door and asked “Who is it?” and got the reply of “NYPD…Officer O’Malley…Mrs. Miller? open up I got a present for you.”
I heard the chain being loosened and then the deadbolt being turned. The door creaked open and the spring hinges that where on it wanted no part of it because they were way tight and wanted to slam shut even if the door was open only a couple of inches or so. Anyhow, both O’Malley and me could see her peek around the door next to the foyer wall to see who it actually was ’cause the door didn’t have no peep hole and when she did I knew that I was toast. The look on her face said it all. I’d seen it before so I wasn’t at all surprised just scared. I figured what would or could happen to me with a cop around wouldn’t be half as bad as when I would be left alone with her later on.
Standing right there Officer O’Malley asked her point blank “Is there anyone here who knows this boy because if there isn’t he’s coming with me.” The look of hatred on her face when she saw me and her moan of disgust was quickly followed with her reply of “Yes, its mine.” I guess that said it all for me because I had always figured that I was more of an imposition than anything else. She unchained the door then asked him to “Come in;” which he did with me leading the way. It was only then, when after the door had closed behind us both, that he let go his grip off my shirt.
I straightened out my shirt and just looked away from them both.
He wasted no time in explaining to her that he been stationed near the subway entrance on the Grand Concourse and had witnessed me beating the crap out of some other boy. It was only after a doctor had come out of his office and complained to him to do something about it that he did. He went on with “…What’s more, from what I hear, this was a common occurrence because his patrons had often complained to him about “…the little boy with the brown hair and tan chinos who was a bully.” Lady, the doc was pretty clear about what he wanted to have happen to your son: he wants him put away; arrested or reform school. Am I making myself clear here?”
All my mother did was nod two or three times during the course of which my grandmother also happened to get in on the event with her two-cent worth. “Terry are you fighting again? Always you come here and leave so quick then when you come back you have cuts and bloody nose. What’s wrong with you? Such a pretty boy why you want to fight?
I could have told her but who’d have cared or believed me. I figured it was better for me to shut up and take what was coming to me so I didn’t say a word to her about it either. In any event, officer O’Malley was pretty well head up on making it clear to mommy dear of what would happen to me if I were to be taken back to the station house with him and of what might occur with the Borough looking into the whys and wherefores of the whole thing. He went on with, “Lady, I can play this one of two ways but it’s up to you. I really don’t want to take the time to drag his butt along with me so here’s what I think. You guarantee me that he’ll never go back out on the street again and pick a fight again. Furthermore the doc said he doesn’t want your kid hanging around his office anymore because he’s driving his business off. Secondly, I told the doc that I’d take care of it so the kid needs to be punished like he’s never been before. Did I mention that your little sweetheart Terry here even was gonna take a poke at me when I hoisted his keester off the street. I’ll tell you straight out…it was a good thing he didn’t. So…now…what’ll it be?”
“Officer,” she began, “…can you come into the living room and bring him.”
I really loved it when she said “bring him,” just like she was ordering him with me like I was some other person’s kid instead of her own. What else was new, but I wasn’t surprised. I was used to her rants, her screaming, the slaps in the face she gave me, and the swats with a belt across my legs and thighs coupled with the never ending threats of her sending me off to reform school because I didn’t love her. What a hypocrite. Why should I? Love her…oh please.
I was even getting used to her crappy cooking; which I still couldn’t stomach but somehow managed to keep down. I guess after being forced to eat your own puke a couple of times; even stuff you wouldn’t consider putting in your own mouth tastes a whole lot better.
Where was I, oh yea, anyhow we walks into the living room an there she just turns around and starts talking past me again to him all about how hard she tried to raise me and of what a handful I was to handle. She never mentioned anything about all the things she did to me and like I said before there were a whole lot more. But that’s beside the point. Anyway, just after she explains about how difficult I am she up and says, “Officer, if I give him the whipping of his life in front of you can you forget the matter?”
What was that she said, “…the whipping of my …” yea I thought so. But I wondered how could another whipping be any worse than any of the others that she’d so enthusiastically given me? I mean she almost always seemed to go out of her way, just for the smallest thing to find some reason to do it. I was tired of ’em and even more tired of her and frankly I didn’t at that time give a rat’s ass! I found out just a couple of minutes later of how wrong I was; especially about the whipping part.
Without fanfare she simply ordered my grandmother off with “Mom, go get the wooden handle ladle from the kitchen, the quarter inch ruler, your hairbrush and pop’s belt.” As an afterthought she called after her “…don’t forget the salve.” Of all the things she’d mentioned the only one I didn’t know anything first hand about was what the hell a salve was but I was gonna find out.
Right after that she asks real sweet like “Officer, will you please take a seat anywhere on the couch and I promise you that when you report back to this doctor that you will have witnessed the whipping of your life. Furthermore, that when he does see him,” she just pointed to me, “again, that he will receive an apology in person and ask for forgiveness. I promise that you will never see him on the street again like he is now doing what he was doing.”
I don’t know what it was but Officer O’Malley just smiled at her and then came right out and flat told her “Lady, what I can promise you is simple. If I so much as see your boy here anywhere along the Grand Concourse throwing hands I won’t even bother to come up here and talk to you. Understand?”
All he heard in reply was mother’s curt reply of “Yes.” I stood there for a couple of seconds and didn’t say a word, thought about what I might say, but didn’t because before I could mother ordered me to take off my shirt. I thought that that was kinda odd and when I didn’t do it fast enough she just finished with the rest of it and ripped it off of me one sleeve at a time: what was left of the pack of Lucky Strikes that I’d stashed under my left sleeve dropped to the floor. She looked at ’em and didn’t say a word; it was her brand so I figure the 17 cents I wasted on ’em was good for something.
Any way, before I knew what was happening she’d pulled off both of my sneakers without even bothering to unlace them and then went right to the button on my chinos; reached for the zipper, pulled it down and then just pulled real hard on either side so that she ripped the button right off it. I tried to stop her from pulling my pants down but before I could move either of my knees out of the way she had pulled both legs down to around my ankles. All of a sudden, with me standing there in my underpants, my grandmother walks back in right in the middle of me trying to catch my balance and me saying “No don’t” and puts all of the stuff she’d brought back with her right on the couch beside the cop. The reason I even mention this is because there’s a bottle of some clear stuff that she called “Witch Hazel.” I didn’t know about that stuff but I was gonna find out what kinda stuff that was and boy was it gonna hurt!
At this point I was yelling out at her to “MOM STOP TAKING OFF ALL MY CLOTHES! Mommeeee…sob…please…sob…STOP…Stop taking off…off all…off all of of of my …MY CLOTHES!” Of course, she didn’t listen and while trying to worm myself away from her she even managed to get my Fruit Of the Looms pulled down and off of me…well at least down to my ankles. Then before I knew it she had both of my hands behind me and had turned me around completely undressed to stand right out there in the open. With that, she sat down on the couch to the right beside O’Malley then pulled me right down to sit beside her off to the right and then before I knew what was happening had grabbed hold of my hair with her left hand and had pulled me down to lay across her lap.
There I plopped down to find my face almost dead center of this guys lap and try as I might to lift my head away I couldn’t because his hand is holding me down right against his leg. I can’t help but stare at the garrison belt this guy has on and the rounds that are simply held in place by its loops that are in plain sight; besides which, his .38 special is almost hitting my chin and the smell of leather from his holster is way strong. At the same time good ol mom still had my right arm wedged up behind my back had now blocked my legs between hers so all that I could do was squirm about.
Then before I could start to say anything she started in on me…first with her open right hand with what she thought were about twenty hard slaps to my butt. I gotta tell ya, the only thing that ever hurt on me with her open hand was when she’d slap me across the face…that hurt. I kinda figure that her hand was getting sore and she stopped for a second, cursed something or other about not being able to make an impression then asked out loud for her mom to pass her the wooden handle spoon. From that point on it started to hurt, not so much as when a razor strap nails ya but like little bee stings that you can hear go whap, whap, whap, whap, whap. She didn’t stop with the spoon until she busted the handle, cussed some more and then just lit into me with the hair brush.
I kinda giggled to myself because I knew she couldn’t hit me worth a crap sitting down because the only way she could really hurt me was when she’d use the belt or clock me right out across the face when she was standing up. I don’t know why but she could really reach back and get every bit of what she wanted out of whatever it was she was gonna lay into me with. I figure with her standing it had to do with leverage or something like that.
But I’ll admit that with the brush that she landed a couple of good ones that smarted pretty good ’cause up until that time it was nothing for me to “ouch” and “oooh” and “ohh” and “ahh” and stuff like some sissy pansy would do…not that I was one…I mean if you can fake it who the hell would know? Sorry to say that at that point Officer O’Malley did and chuckled out loud to mom that “The kid should go into movies he’s an actor. Look at his rear it’s only red; lady aside from a couple of marks here and there you haven’t raised a welt yet so if that’s the best you can do me and him have some business down at the station.
After hearing that I thought about starting to cry for real but O’Malley had already made me so I just buttoned up and waited for her to throw me off of her lap and tell him to go ahead and take me in. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so surprised at that when all of a sudden she up and offers him a come on with, “No, if you can do any better sitting down you’re more than welcome to.”
Before I knew what was happening I found myself being lifted like a doll and dropped like a sack of spuds right square on his lap by O’Malley who didn’t even make a grunt when he did it while at the same time just yakking away at my mother all business like with “Under normal circ-umstances, Mrs. or is it Ms. Miller I’d get up and walk the hell right out of here with this little hellion in tow but the kid was gonna take a poke at me and I can’t let that go…so if it’s all the same to you what say I show how to start and let you finish” and with that my head shot straight up when the first loud “THWACK” hit me square on my butt but that was only the first of about twenty or so which after only the first two landing had me yelping and screaming for him to stop: he didn’t and after the next three landed I really started to cry for real; no faking it but honest to god he hurt and the more he slapped my butt the worser it was getting.
“Lady,” he said pausing for a moment, that’s how you get his attention and this is how you raise a welt or two. Notice not only do you have to slap the same spot but when you do you need a little whip action throughout the fingers and then down to the palm not the other way around; after I’m gone remember that practice makes perfect. Now that I’ve got him warmed up for you, you finish it!”
“I intend to” were the words which I didn’t expect to hear and that’s when I found myself being lifted up by my ear and then put in a head lock; that’s when good ol mom laid into me with the ruler. She didn’t stop at five or ten or twenty or forty but kept right on putting it to me across my butt, up and down my legs and with me twisting and turning and trying to get away and even managed to nail me on my wiener a couple of times and when she did that I bent all the way over to grap myself and that's when she really nailed me some more on my butt. I don’t remember when it was but at some point O’Malley got up from the couch and excused himself and left her the parting words of “You’ve raised some fine welts but remember, just don’t over do it lady ’cause I don’t want to have to come back here.” With that he simply excused himself and allowed my grandma to show him to the door while I was being dragged into my grandmothers bedroom, placed face down on her bed and then had her lay into to me with the belt with some really wicked strokes which really made me scream out after each CRACK! After the last one hit mom just flat out told me that those were just lucky strikes.
A couple of seconds later grandma was passing her the bottle of which hazel and a cloth. The only way to describe it is like having someone light your butt on fire after they douse it with alcohol. I went to sleep like that bare butt and all and didn’t wake up until I felt my mother starting to roll me over and then pulling something bulky up in between my legs.
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Right away I knew what it was and knew even better than to ask her what in the hell she thought she was doing ’cause of the look on her face that she gave me when she kinda looked down at the bed at the ruler she’d stashed right by me. Of course the question of “why” was the one thing that I did want to ask her but the idea of her belting me across the chops kinda put that bright idea out of my mind. It didn’t make no difference anyhow ’cause she would flat out spill the beans later to me after she was through pinning the diapers together.
But you gotta understand, I didn’t really need diapers…at least not so’s you’d think that is ’cause the ones she was putting on me were from when I landed up in the hospital with two broke legs I got a couple of months ago when I fell down some stairs. I never thought much about hospitals before then and still don’t and I remember I pitched a holy shit-fit in the hospital when they cut my dungarees off me and started to put ’em on me. I didn’t know anything about it then but then that’s when they told me that “…all the kids under twelve when they go in the hospital hasta wear ’em ’cause of what they said were “…hospital rules!” I didn’t care about their fuc-kin’ rules or how much my legs were hurtin and I screamed right at ’em that “I ain’t no baby and I ain’t gonna wear ’em so there!” Yea, I admit it that I added “…and you can’t make me!” But they did.
Yea I admit it. Well, that’s only ’cause they made me…but I only gave in after they used some big belts with some sorta cuffs to keep my hands down to either side of the bed I was in so’s I couldn’t undo them. They finally let me loose after a couple of days when I promised not to try and take ’em off. But I only promised them that ’cause of all the other kids that was there and in the same room who hadda wear ’em.. I mean, they were in ’em too so’s it wasn’t like me or them had any real say about the whole thing. We were all in ’em an just ha’ta use ’em and that’s just the way it was. Anyway, I guess you could say that that in the long run that that really turned out to be nothing but a load of crap for me.
Well anyhow that’s how come she had ’em around here now ’cause we stayed here with my grandma instead of at our ratty place where I fell down. I mean I had to wear ’em ’till I was better and could walk on my own, and that took over six weeks before they cut ’em off me, the casts that is. So like I said anyhow that’s why she had ’em ’cause we left all of ’em all here after that. So where was I, oh yea, so anyway she goes and pulls them up and pins ’em up all tight like…I mean…not with just one or two of them pins that you’d use but really goes all apeshit with ’em so that even if I did start to take any of ’em out that before I ever finished I’d be s..o..l before I could ever get it off!
Ya know I first figured right off that with all the pins that that’s it and that I’d hafta stay in one of the bedrooms and not come out; but was wrong. ’Cause she yells at me to “Get out of bed and stand up,” and when I do I look down and see what she has laying on the floor and when she tells me to “Lift your foot,” but I don’t move none to quick.
Naturally it was the wrong thing for me to do ’cause all it did was to give her another chance to lay into me again with the ruler and I really got a full dose of what she was dishin’ out. I guess she listened to O’Malley pretty good ’cause she only got me on one leg and in just about the same spot every time and it hurt like the dic-kens.
Of course she did what I thought it was that most mothers would do and so that every time she said a word right after it came a hard WHACK, CRACK or SLAP with it. So when she said, “When…I…tell…you…do…something…you…will…listen. I…have…had…it…up…to…here…with…you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I didn’t bother to tell her “Oh yea? Well I’m fed up with you too!!!
But after all that I guess she figured that I might listen to her when she told me to “Step into your rubber pants.” But when I started to argue and blubber that “They aren’t my rubber pants! They’re…,” she hauled off and walloped me right on my left ear with a hard “SLAPP!” but not with the ruler, just her hand.
I gotta tell ya, I felt like I was Gene Fulmer being hit by Sugar Ray Robinson or Rocky Graziano so’s as I’m shakin’ the cobwebs outta my head she just starts to put my feet into the rubber pants one foot at a time and pulls ’em right on up and over and then just lets them SNAP into place right up against my bellybutton. Then before I can do a thing she’s draggin me outta the bedroom by my left ear, down the hallway, out into the foyer and flat out tells me to “Get the hell out of here!” opens the door and starts to kick me outta the place.
I mean I thoughta running away before and would’ve really done it this time but not the way I was dressed or undressed now! Anyhow like I said, she gives me the boot and tells me to “Go outside and play!” Right! Like I’m dumb enough to go anywhere in just in diapers! Besides I knew if anyone saw me that I’d be eating knuckle sandwiches! Well, I’ll be honest, I did what any kid would do in my situation, I screamed bloody murder at her through the door to “LET ME IN! LET ME IN! PLEASE LET ME IN! LET ME BACK IN. DO YOU HEAR ME?! as kicked it as hard as I could with my bare foot and found out that that wasn’t to swift a move so I switched to pounding on it like a drum with either fist and went through the whole rigmarole again.
I didn’t stop until the door swung wide open and I saw her standing there with the belt in her hand. To me it looked like she was raising it up to whack me a couple of more times with it but instead she just stood there and looked at me. And yea, I was crying and blubbering for her to “Please let me in. I’ll behave. Please! Let me in! Let me in! Please?” I mean look, sure I was bent outta shape about the spanking she’d given me but also because I just knew that if anyone and I do mean anyone in the place ever saw me dressed the way I was; I knew that I’d be pickin’ my teeth up right off the floor like they was Chiclets that dropped outta the box.
For just a sec I thought she’d let me in. Instead all she did was to close the door on me and tell me while she did it, “You want something to cry about? You knock on this door again and I’ll give you something to cry about. You’re not coming in here until I decide what to do with you!” With that the door just closed and there I was just standing there all alone.
All I knew at that point was that if I stayed where I was that someone would see me for sure so in-between my sniffling and backhanding the snot that was running outta my nose I decided to do the only thing that seemed reasonable; I’d have to make a trip to “tar beach” and the only way to do that was to make sure that first, no one saw me and two that the door to the roof was unlocked. Of course if the door to the roof was locked then I’d hafta either stay there and wait it out or go someplace else.
Luckily there was no one down the hallway so it was easy for me to get to the stairs and it was no problemo to haul butt up the one flight, take a quick peek in either direction and then hightail it up the last landing and set of stairs to the door that opened right onto the black roof. “Nuts!” wasn’t the only thing I murmured to myself when I found out that the “super” for some reason had locked it. I thought about it for a while then decided against staying where I was. I figured that if someone might want to go up and get some sun then the last thing I wanted was for them to see me so I made my way down just as quick to the 5th floor, stopped, looked down the stairs because I heard someone coming up and then looked down the hallway past 5 E to the window which opened up onto the roof deck which was there.
I tip-toed just as quick as I could past B, C on the left and D on the right but stopped just short of E because the door was open. I didn’t think that that was any big deal so I just stole a peek in, didn’t see no one, waited a sec, then made a bee-line for the window; lifted it up a bit more then crawled through it and out onto what was out there, which wasn’t much of anything. The walls on this thing weren’t all that big, I mean, I wasn’t all that big and they only came up to about my knees; but I did think a couple of seconds of just how far it was down to the alley and whether it’d hurt all that much.
I decided against it and just crawled up into a little ball and sat in the corner just beside where the window was. I didn’t want to think about anything because I just wanted to be left alone. That didn’t happen.
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So what else was new? Well, instead of just getting to be by myself like I figured; here I have to have a sneak poke their snoopy nose outta the window and look at me and then ask me the dumb as$ question of the year with “Hello, are you o.k?” I mean give me a royal break…did I really look like I was o.k.? I didn’t say nothing…I mean why should I? It was no bee’s wax of theirs of why the hell I was doing what I was. Besides, I figured that if I said anything else I wouldn’t be all to cool; ya know what I mean? I mean really. like how are ya supposed to be cool looking like a total dork while crying like a…a…a stupid sissy girl?
Anyhow, like I said, I didn’t say note. But did that stop that… that …that idiot from asking me again…noooooooooo. ’Cause I hear that voice again and ya know it’s the same brainless question only asked all different like with, “You know I said, hello and I asked you real nice if you were o.k. So I’ll ask you again, maybe you just didn’t hear me, so here goes, hello, again, are you o.k.?
I guess I could’ve saved myself some grief by answering but even someone like you hasta know that if you can’t even talk because you’ve gone tubular; how are you supposed to without looking or sounding like a…real dork. I didn’t say nothing back again and just shook my head back and forth, side to side, which I guess was just wasn’t enough of what I was supposed to do because no sooner than I did came the bright remark of, “Well at least your not deaf!”
I faced away from the pest as best I could and stared bleary eyed at the red bricks in the wall and muttered “Listen Einstein, if you haven’t figured it out I’m not feeling too good and I just want to be left alone so go away and leave me be.”
“Sorry, can’t do that,” she shot back, “…because if I walk away and tell my mom that you’re still out here she’s gonna call the “super” and you just know that when old man “super Sam” gets here and finds you out there; not only is he gonna raise a big fuss with you, but everyone on the floor who’s listening in for anything else will find out even more about you. I mean…about how and why your dressed now that is…or maybe not dressed is a better way of describing you.
I didn’t bother to tell her that I didn’t know who the hell “Super Sam,” was, at least not by name that is but before I could get a word in edge wise she went on.
“You know, even with their doors closed, I’ll bet that half the floor heard you getting it. I know you were getting it from your mom because after the cop left I could still hear the whacks you were…I mean…I didn’t mean to listen but…I’m not a snoop if that’s what you’re thinking…it’s just that you almost get used to hearing all sorts of stuff…even the stuff your not supposed to hear because of all the yelling and screaming that goes on.
“You sorta get used to listening for whatever. But, if it makes you feel any better…I’m sorry that I heard you getting hurt.”
I thought to myself and said it out loud, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter what you feel about me…all I know is…is that when you blab your mouth all over about me that I’m gonna be history. Why don’t you make like a tree and leave. I just wanna be…”
“You’re not very nice are you?”
“You’re nuts! Why should I be nice to you? I never asked you to bother me did I? Nooooo. You just hadda sneak up on me and…”
“I did no such thing,” she said, “… in fact, you’re the one who was sneaking past our door and tiptoeing all quick like you thought you wouldn’t be seen. Too bad so sad but my mom put a mirror up on the kitchen wall so she could see who was at the front door while she was still in the kitchen; we always keep the door open in the summer ’cause it’s cooler with the breeze coming in from the hallway. She wasn’t in the kitchen just now, I was, and I was sitting at the table coloring; looked up and saw you without even trying to. So there smarty pants! I wasn’t the one who was sneaking, you were! Now, just for that I’m going to leave you alone and go tell my mommy on you, that’s what you wanted, right? Now see what happens!” And with that last bit of news miss nosy body was gone.
I didn’t try to call back and answer her, why should I. I mean, after all, she was a girl…just another stupid girl who couldn’t even pee standing up let alone fight fair so I ignored her. I guess two or three minutes went by and I hadn’t heard her voice bug me so I figured that the coast was clear enough for me to split. Sorry to say it was just at that same time that I was getting ready to motivate that I hear her voice yakking away again talking to someone saying something like “Mom, don’t worry, I will,” and coming back at me from inside the hallway.
And then before I could make my move I see a hand pushing its way out of the window. and it’s holding a pink thing with lot’s a white fluffy stuff hanging all around its big sleeves and there’s that same stuff at the bottom of it too; and her voice is going a mile a minute telling me to “Here! Put this on because my mom said you might want something to cover up with and for me to give you something to wear. I grabbed my kimono, so here it’s. And she tells me to tell you to come in off of that balcony this instant! Oh, and that if you don’t come in off of it she’ll call the super on you!”
I didn’t say a word back to her because all I could do was stare at the thing she was holding out for me to take. I mean there it was and she was just shaking back and forth like I was too blind to see what it was…a girl’s whatchamacallit. All I could actually say loud enough for her to hear was “Uhh uhh…no way I’m wearing that.”
“Ohh,” she says back to me, “…that’s too bad but my mom said to give you something to wear besides your diapers. This is the only long piece I have out that won’t stink…the rest are put way…mothballed. If you don’t want to wear it that’s fine with me but I guess that before I tell my mom that you won’t come in off the terrace that I’ll knock on the door to “D,” that’s where Laurie lives and ask her to keep an eye on you until “super Sam” gets here. Maybe she can baby sit you, after all, you’re dressed for the part! She’s a lot older than me, well, three years older any way. But, my mom told me to make sure and tell you that if you don’t come in this instant that I can’t stay out here and talk with you any more.
“But you know if you wanted to talk to me…at least for a little bit…you could be inside someplace where you wouldn’t be found out. I’ll bet you that’s why you’re hiding out there isn’t it? Sooo? Deal? I’m waiting? O.k.….suit yourself, I guess maybe you’d rather be seen just like you are now than just be safe inside where no one can see you…except for me that is. You know, if it makes any difference to you, I wouldn’t say anything about you to anyone. Honest Injun.”
I thought it over but I still thought that something was fishy. I mean why would a girl want to talk to me because I sure didn’t want to talk to her. She wouldn’t know a thing about boys’ stuff or running and how great it felt to just go out and punch someone in the snoot. She’d wouldn’t know a thing about which were the best Batman or Superman comics you could buy or the Screaming Blackhawks or the Tales From the Crypt comics that had just come out; not to mention Rubber Man, The Green Hornet and Cato or Captain Marvel or the Flash or the really neat Green Lantern, G. I. Joe or Captain America or anything about Adventures into Terror comics.
She just wouldn’t know which were the best tattoos to buy, or why or how to lick your arm and let ’em sit for two minutes before you pealed them off or which were the best indelible that you couldn’t wash off for days. Or how you could just walk into Benny’s Fountain down on the corner and buys whichever ball you thought tested better by just trying to squeeze ’em, or even which brand was better: a Spalding or a Second. And I know for sure she’d be clueless about how to pitch for pennies or nickels or even dimes or quarters; or about collecting baseball cards and getting to smell them after you tore ’em open from the gum wrapper to see what you got and then getting to stuff your mouth full of gum and the great taste you got which was way better than Wrigley’s Gum, you know, the one with the tire tracks on ’em; or how to trade for better ones, or how to even flip cards or why you did it and as for playing off the wall or off the point or curb ball or stick ball and how when you really busted the ball how it would just fly off and egg all squiggly like in the air; forget about it. Girls were too goody goody to collect Coke or Pepsi or R.C. Cola bottles and turn them in for cash so you could buy whatever you wanted. I mean they couldn’t even roller skate down the hill whenever they wanted because of the dopey shoes that they always wore: the ones that didn’t have thick souls on them so that when you put them on that no matter how hard you tried to tighten them up with your key that they wouldn’t stay on; no, they had to have special ones; skates that looked like little boots that had to lace up in the front. Girls, all they could do was to play dumb jump rope or that lame hopscotch or Simon Says or Red Light-Green light or play hit the penny on the sidewalk with one of their girly red balls: those games were for girls or sissies.
Besides, I figured all that she’d know about would be dolls and dresses and crap like that…still…she was smart enough to figure out that I didn’t want to be seen but I sure didn’t want to put on that thing that she was still holding but…
“Well,” she said, “what’s it gonna be? You wanta come inside or should I leave? Hello? Hello? Are you gonna answer me?”
I have to tell ya that not only wasn’t I gonna say a word to her but I was about ready to just shove her face back inside where it belonged and go someplace else: except that at that second I knew that she’d probably not only tattle on me but also yell at me for shoving her which would mean that more snoopy people would be coming outside to see what the ruckus was all about. Least wise that’s what I was gonna do until I heard her mother’s voice talking to her from inside the hallway and her answering back with “Yes he’s still out there and no he won’t wear what I got for him to cover up with. I think he’s hard of hearing too because I told him a couple a times that you’d call super Sam if he didn’t listen but he’s still sitting out there. Maybe he’s just dumb.”
I didn’t catch all that her mother said back to her except that her voice seemed a lot closer than before when she said “Rebecca, tell him its almost lunch time and if he’ll be kind enough to come in off of that balcony that I’ll be happy to make hamburgers and French fries for you both and Becky please try not to be so bossy after all it is your kimono and not a proper boys bathrobe; if he’d rather stay in just his diapers then just let him, but tell him that I do not allow bare chests at my dinner table so it will either be that or something else which is suitable. And Becky, threatening someone with a handicap is not ladylike; you know that I never told you that I would call Samuel Hopkins; I thought I raised you better. If the shoe were on the other foot how would you feel?”
I guess that said it all for me; that this Becky girl tried to trick me, because some of the things she said weren’t true so I was right she was a sneak. But that didn’t make me feel any better and I was just about to tell her off when there she goes again and starts to yak away at me with, “O.K. so I stretched the truth a little bit at least about super Sam…and well about me knocking on “D” and getting Laurie to baby sit you; I’d rather do it myself because you’re interesting, at least to me that is. But mom is right about sitting down at the table, you won’t get to eat a thing unless you cover up and I don’t know whether you’re slow or not but there’s only my mom and me so that means that there won’t be anything to wear except for what’ll fit you of mine. So, if you’re hungry and…
“You know you talk too much,” I said. It wasn’t my bright idea to be dressed like I am but being the nosy body that you are you already knew that didn’t ya! Well, I’m no sissy but…but…just shut up for a minute and let me think about this…and don’t answer me right away…this pink thing of a bob of yours is all that you could find? I mean isn’t there anything else that…no that’s plain stupid…you’re a girl and all you’d have are girls clothes…so how about a towel? That’d work wouldn’t it? Well?”
“’Fraid not,” she said, “moms’ real particular about having bathroom stuff in the kitchen, so it’s either this or a blouse or a simple jumper with sleeves; but you can ask her for yourself but between the two of us I don’t care what you wear as long as I get to talk with you and look at you of course. I haven’t had the chance to see a boy up close and with no clothes on except for you of course; well almost. I mean, I remember when you went up to tar beach a couple of weeks ago with your grandma and she had you in nothing but your little boys underpants and after you went in the wading pool you stood up and I could see everything; because everything showed right on through. Who knows, if you’re diapers are wet maybe I can watch you being changed.”
I was gonna tell her that that ain’t gonna happen but I was getting a real bad feeling about all this. Not only about me being here with here now but also knowing that she had spied on me when I was up on the roof and that she’d probably heard my mom tell me not only to “Now, go outside and play,” but also her warning me that “If you have to go to the bathroom I better not find out that you went anywhere else except in what you’re wearing!” Either way I didn’t think that things were looking too good for me so the choice, if I had one to make wasn’t all that great.
I reached out and kinda wanted to take the pink thingy from her. It was kinda weird because she almost seemed to know when I reached out for it that I’d come in off the roof and go inside her apartment but instead of letting me take it from her right then and there all she did was pull it back away from me and tell me flat out “No, you come in from out there this instant, then, I will give it to you to put on. I don’t want my good kimono ruined when you try to crawl back inside. Oh, and by the way, you can ask me nicely if you can wear it or you can ask my mother, either way is fine with me.”
I mumbled to myself about her being a bitch and I was about to call her the “C” word but stopped myself. As I was climbing back through the window I almost caught myself on one of its latches; backed off and then climbed back on through the rest of the way and was met with this Rebecca getting right in my face and asking me, “I believe that you have something to ask me but first I want an apology from you for being so rude to me. You said I was nuts. Well, I’m not and I don’t have any! So there!”
I was just about to tell her off when her mother walks on out of her apartment and saves me with, “Rebecca S. McCandle, I’ve heard every word you’ve said. You give that boy what you’re holding to wear right this instant and if I so much as hear you try to boss him around again you’ll regret it! And you and I believe your name is Terry, will put that on, come inside my apartment and seat yourself at the kitchen table and if you so much as sass me you’ll regret it even more as well. Now move the both of you! Inside!”
-
She nodded to me one time and made sure to tell me right out, “You heard what I said, now move!”
After hearing her mother say that again I figured that I already had one licking and I wasn’t up for another one; at least not so soon. So I admit it, I put that thing on and what was worse was that this Becky actually stood there and made sure that she watched me do it! I mean come on! She kinda smirked at me and was about to say something but I glared back at her when that grin hit her face; but I kept my mouth shut except for telling her “You go in first.” She just shimmied her shoulders all girly like at me and went on in ahead of me after her mother made sure that I’d put it on.
I remembered from what she said that the kitchen’d be something really simple to find because no sooner had she walked six steps in; there it was all tucked away off on the right, right beside the hallway. The dumbwaiter and steam pipe was right in the left corner as ya walked in with the same kinda grey paint that was on the one in my grandmas; it was even pealing though not as bad and there right on top of the dumbwaiters door was a mirror. Right beside that and up against the wall was the table with some kinda halfass unfinished puzzle on it. Like at my grandmas the gas stove was just about right up next to it and right up against the outside wall that had a big kitchen window in it.
Just off to the right of the window was the sink which had their wash tub pushed right up next to it and the ringer still had clothes in it which still hadn’t been finished being run through or hung out to dry out on the clothesline overhanging out the back courtyard. I figured that most of the apartments except for two that I didn’t know jack about had clotheslines that went out the back kitchen windows. And the reason I kinda figured that it was the same set up on each floor because each time I’d either go up or down those flights of stairs I’d sneak a peek outside and look out and around on the landings between the floors so I knew that at least as far as how the clotheslines were running that the one right in front of me was the one where my grandma’s kitchen window was. And if your gonna ask me how the hell did I know that its because the stupid blue and white polka dot dress she always wore was still hanging on the line right outside her kitchen window. She was hanging it out to dry just after getting it out of the ringer when we got there. The other thing I saw was that if my mom was gonna hang any of my stuff that she brought over to wash out to dry she hadn’t done it yet; I guess that with me that that shouldn’t have been no big surprise.
Anyhow the only real difference between the kitchens that I saw was that they had a brand new Kelvinator. I mean this thing was really cool because you didn’t have to pay the ice man to haul the block-ice up the five flights of stairs holding it with some humongous tongs over a bag of burlap he’d strung over his back to put in the box. So what I guess I’m telling ya is that all I was used to was an ice box that had no light in it that came on when ya opened the door. I wondered if this one came with one of them neat little boxes that came with metal trays so that when you filled them up it made ice cubes; I thought that was pretty swank!
Anyhow, Becky’s mom looks right at me and tells me “You,” like that by now that she thinks that “You” should’ve really been my name, “take a seat while I make a phone call and if you so much as move you’ll get worse from me than your mother gave you.” Of course all I can think of is “Ohhh crap not you too.”
I figured I didn’t have much of a choice so I pulled out a chair and sat my sore keester down while she went out into the hall and dialed up some number. I tried my best to sit down all cool like but that kimbobo that I hadda put on before I could come in sorta had a mind of its own and got all tangled up in the back of the chair so I hadda get up to rearrange it to sit down again and that’s when this girl tells me all snotty like “You don’t even know how to sit down properly do you? Well you don’t do you?”
As I’m thinking to myself “What the…” she goes on with, “Well if you’re not going to answer me I’ll just tell you.” Of course I think to myself, “I’m sure you will.”
And she does by going on by telling me “To sit down properly one must first close the kimono and then tie the sash, you do know what that is don’t you. Well let’s take it for granted that you do…of course you could be really slow in which case I’m just talking to the wall. But then again, if you’re smart enough to fasten the sash, what you do is to place both of your hands behind you and then as you sit gently hold the bottom of it against your legs and slid in while you sit. See, it’s that simple.
At that point I was really hoping that her mother would come back in and save me but
I knew that I was s.o.l. when I heard her tell “Becky, the party line is on again so I might be a while. I’m listening so remember what I told you before: be nice and please don’t torment him!”
While I was listening to Becky’s mom I ignored her pest the best I could and just sat back down without doing any of the crap that she said I should do. I know she wanted to say something more about it but I guess my groan when I felt this stuff touch my skin kinda put her off. I guess for some reason she understood that this stuff didn’t feel like any towel or bathrobe that you just threw on because it felt a whole bunch weirder every time you moved.
At that point I didn’t know what to expect from either of them and with not really having anywhere else to go I did what she said, I just sat there. But boy did I feel trapped; so while I’m minding my own business I look at the box top that the puzzle came in and I guess maybe a couple of seconds went by with neither of us saying nothing until this red haired Becky girl pulls out another chair right beside me, sits herself down and starts off on me again with, “You know, you have long greasy nasty brown hair don’t you? You do know that…well… don’t you? If you don’t then you do. You know what else?”
I thought if I didn’t say nothing that she’d just give up and leave me alone but I should’a known better than to just shake my head “No,” because she keeps right on yakkin away with, “I’ll tell you what else. It’s almost touching the collar on my kimono in the back and if it does your gonna be in trouble ’cause it’s mostly chiffon. I knew I shouldn’t have given you anything good to cover up with ’cause you’re just a boy who’s probably got a load of cooties in his hair! And don’t you dare touch that ooie-gooie stuff on your head with your fingers and then play with my puzzle; you’ll ruin the pieces!!”
I wanted to tell her shove it but didn’t instead I flat out told her, “Don’t you know anything about boys? It ain’t grease Einstein it’s called Brylcreem. It’s supposed to keep my DA* cool. Jeez. You know I didn’t ask you to give me this chipon bathrobe and I sure didn’t wanta put it on in the first place! Its yours and it feels weird! Besides it wasn’t my bright idea for me to be here now b’cause you’re the one who asked me to come in here; no that ain’t right, all I wanted was to be left alone, but nooooo, you gotta snoop around and poke that funny lookin nose of yours outta the window and ask me if I’m dumb or not because I don’t feel like talking to you! You know I wasn’t bothering you but you sure are bugging me! And for the record Alfred E. Newman I know how to do puzzles without ruining ’em like you are.”
I never really argued with a girl before, never had to; but the one thing I was sure of was that if I did that I’d lose ’cause girls don’t fight fair. I mean they can call ya all sorts of names and stuff and they think that that’s just jake and then they go and do what this one was starting to do: cry. I mean, I’m thinking “what could I have possibly said that make her cry?” I guess I didn’t have to break a sweat about figuring out what I’d said because she up and boo-hoos right out that “you think my nose is funny looking!” and starts to cry even more like there’s no tomorrow and with that just up and stomps off and leaves me sitting there.
Of course the first thing I think is “Great!” until the other thought hits me “no dumb ass not so great. Her mom is gonna pulverize you. Well, at least I got my new name right.” Right then and there it might’ve been good to say something out loud and then get up and leave but before I could do either her mother is back in the kitchen so all I can do is close my eyes, half way tense up and wait for the belt that I know is coming to rock me across the back of my head; after all, that’s what mom would do to me.
Instead what I hear is the chair to my right being pulled out and then scooted in and her voice telling me “You can open your eyes now.”
________________
DA=ducksass=hairstyle of the fifty's
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“And when you do, you can just look right at me and tell me the truth about something and if you know what’s good for you, it’d just better be the truth and only the truth.” I kinda grin to myself as in the back of my mind I hear the anvil drop on the Mark VII and the music plays “Dah, dah dahnt dant” and wonder does she’s carry a badge marked 714.
But I guess that when it came down to it that figuring out what was good for me was sorta like me ordering jumbo shrimp at Gregory and Paul’s on Coney Island when all they really have is franks, great fries, pizza, cold beer and stuff like that. I guess what I’m trying to say is how in the hell am I supposed to know what is good for me when it’s obvious that what would really be good for me would be for me to be totally somewhere else, not bothered by anyone else and all by myself!
Anyway, I know I gotta be cool with whatever I say back, so I do what any guy would do in my place, except that there was no one else in my place. So like Bogey or Cagney would I almost look at her but not quite and ask her straight out “Whut?” as if I’m really put out and bothered with it all and what whatever else she has to ask me. You know it really bugs me when someone does that; asking me stupid stuff that is. It’s none of their damn business and what right do they have to ask me anything anyway? Besides, I mean, why waste any more of my words trying to figure out what some strange lady would want with ya when just one good one asking why’ll do. Besides, I figure they’re all the same, girls, ladies and whatever, you know: they’ll eventually get around to twisting your ear off and telling you off and giving you what for, so I ask ya, what difference would it make?
Anyhow I just sit there and don’t say nothing and sure enough there she goes again with “You really haven’t a clue do you” she says. I din’t answer her ’cause she was right. I din’t have a clue about what she was talking about so I guess I did what any smart wise guy would do, I played dumb. So after a couple of seconds of her giving it a rest she went right back at with “Don’t you dare give me the silent routine, I asked you a question and I expect an answer.”
Of course I could’ve chirped on back and looked at her like I was interested in whatever the hell it was she asking me about but I didn’t really care and that’s when I thought that it would hit the fan ’cause I looked straight at her and told her “Va la vite voi stessi.”* I didn’t flinch an inch and looked her dead in the eyes and waited for her to belt me across the chops and I even lifted my chin up and waited to take a few good ones. She didn’t take the invitation; instead she just looked at me and to my surprise I almost thought I saw her smile and that’s when she started to talk to me again; but this time it was really different.
“You know, for being such a little wise guy you really don’t have a clue about what you just did do you? Don’t bother answering. First off, of all the things you could have said to Rebecca, telling her that her nose looked funny wasn’t too bright on your part. It’s always best to complement a girl rather than insult her. But for the record, the reason her nose looks the way it is, is because it was broken and she’ll have to have surgery to have it fixed. And if by chance it’s now crossing your mind and you’re wondering how it was broken, a little hellion, much as yourself whose name is Kurt from up the block, pushed her face down onto the sidewalk downstairs just outside the first stoop to the building.”
I could’a said something back really smart except that even I knew that guys ain’t supposed to hit on girls: at least not that way, instead I squinched up my nose like I’d just smelled a fart and whispered “What a butthead. Guy’s ain’t supposed to do that to girls. Besides no real guy wants to fight a girl.”
She says back to me, “Well he does and he doesn’t care who he hurts either.”
“So,” I say, “what’s that got to do with me? I didn’t do anything.” I left out one word…“yet.”
“What it has to do with you is simple, if you’re going to live in this apartment, sooner or later you’ll be playing downstairs out on the sidewalk or up on the corner and one day he just might walk up to you with some of his friends and then it just might be between you and him and them and then maybe you wont be so tough.”
I tossed my head back like a typical wise guy like I seen done a hundred times before and tell her “Yea, maybe, but I don’t think so. I went on with “besides I gotta tell ya, my name ain’t “you.” Ever since “you” seen me that’s all “you” call me: “you.” I ain’t a “you” to “you” or nobody else. And if it makes any difference, I ain’t dumb either!” I waited for her to say something back at me but instead she don’t say nothing so I figure I might ask the obvious question that pops into my head right then and there so that’s when I look straight at her and ask all leery like “Why are you telling me that?”
“Just because I know that sooner or later you’ll run into him and… if it’s of any importance to you, Rebecca likes you though admittedly she has a strange way of expressing it; but, that’s the way she is and I love her for it. For some reason she has a crush on you, but that, Terry, brings me to you, I never said you were…dumb; in fact, I think you’re just too smart for your own good and maybe just a little bit to quiet to boot.
“Ohh don’t look so surprised that I know your name because that’s all I’ve heard from Rebecca since she found out that you were moving in. Terry this, Terry that, Terry will be here soon and all she really wants from you is to be your friend. Now that maybe I have your attention, I’d like the answer to a question.”
I didn’t answer but I did shrug my shoulders like maybe I’d answer if it were cool.
“Good,” she said, “Because what I have to ask you is very important.”
I didn’t answer but it was hard not to look like I didn’t care, so she went on with, “Terry, how did you get all of those bruises?”
Of course I didn’t answer because I was no stool pigeon! But I think that by not answering her right away that that only made it worse because she starts pointing at me and telling me like they was something new that I didn’t already know about that was there that’d just popped up. “Terry, at first when I went out into the hallway it was just to make sure that you would come in, but when I did, I couldn’t help but notice something important. Even before you put on the kimono I couldn’t help but see that your covered with welts and bruises, all over your stomach and back, almost from head to toe, and I know that you didn’t get all of those from fighting other boys and I seriously doubt that the kimono can hide even the slightest of those which are just starting to fade; besides which, the new welts on your legs tells me that…”
She stopped for a second and then said, “That there maybe something that you’d like to tell me? For instance, who did all of that to you?”
Like I said before, I ain’t no stoolie, so I didn’t say nothing.
“I see,” she said, it’s like that. O.K. I understand so listen closely. I’m asking that you simply sit here and be quiet. Hopefully the party line will be through and I can make the call that I wanted to just a couple of minutes ago.” She just looked at me all over for a couple of sec’s and then just said, “I knew I should’ve had a private line. Well what’s done is done. I’ll take care of that later. It might take some time but I know some people who might be able to help.”
And with that she got up and went into the hallway. I could hear her dial up the number and after a while she started to talk to somebody about something that sounded like “even on a temporary basis? You’re kidding me aren’t you.? Yes of course I’m sure…What paperwork? What if she…Willingly? Really? Hmm, yea I guess, but…no…not this one. O.K. O.K. I’ll clear it with her…and Stuart…you’re a doll, see you when you get…yea …”
There was more but I couldn’t hear what all it was because Becky picked that time to just bop in and plop herself down right next to me again and starts to yakkity-yak away at me and drowning out her mom, by telling me that “I bet you’re not as smart as my mom thinks you are.” I didn’t answer her because I didn’t have a chance to b’cause she keeps on going with, “If you are prove it. See this puzzle,” she points at the table like I’m stupid, “there’s 360 pieces to it: you do it! If you’re so smart you take apart what you said I messed up and put it back together again! It’s too hard for me to do so I’ll just sit here and watch you do it.”
I was gonna say something back at her but didn’t b’cause I was really trying hard to hear what her mom was talking about but I couldn’t hear another word except for her whispering like it was all a big secret or something. Anyhow I kinda peeked at Becky and saw that she was still red eyed from crying and I kinda squinched up my nose at her and mumbled something like “Sorry about your nose, I didn’t know” and started in on tearing apart all the mistakes that she’d made by forcing pieces together; put those pieces off to the side and started back in on matching up the pieces that were really made for each other and lickety-split one by one the wooden pieces fell right into place with each other.
I don’t know for sure how long we sat there but while we did she managed to skootch her chair a little closer to the one that I was in and I have to give her credit because while she sat there she didn’t say another word the whole time. All she did was to lean in closer to me and before I even knew what was happening, I almost jumped outta my skin when she went and rested a hand all soft like on my shoulder. All I could do was swallow back what spit was in my mouth and gulp it down; besides, for some reason I started to feel all tingly and was sorta nervous about getting up to move.
Anyhow like I said before I'm not sure about how long we sat there but I guess it was long enough for her mom to have finished up on the phone with what she was doing to come back in and find us sitting there together like we were friends or something. I guess it was a kinda a good thing that I didn’t ruin it all because I never had many friends; especially one’s that were girls and those that I did have were only friends because they knew that I could pound ’em. So I guess, sitting there and thinking about it, I really didn’t have any real friends at all. What more could a guy ask for?
Well like I said, her mother comes back in and says “I’m surprised,” like having the puzzle of some coal black cat on an all black at night background almost done was some big deal, “I’ve left you two alone for fifty minutes and it appears that you two can get along…at least for a short period of time; will wonders never cease.”
Personally, I didn’t know what was so all great and wonderful about any of this; but I was about to find out because she says “I want you two to be the best of friends.”
Well neither of us wasted anytime because “With him?” Becky says while at the same time I say “With her?” and just like we had it planned we both ask “Why?” at the same time and before either of us can get another word out we hear my mother yelling for me out and down the hall and all I can think of is “Ohh crap here we go again.” I looked down at what I was wearing, which wasn’t all that much and right away I knew that I didn’t want to go back there again.
____________
*"go screw yourself"
-
I mean, why should I’ve wanted to? Anyhow, it was at that point that I decided, come hell or high water, that I wanted no more of her: I’d take the reform school she’d always threatened me with instead of being with her; so I just sat there figuring that sooner or later her kind of promised trouble would find me again and on that I didn’t have long to wait. No more than a couple of seconds later she’s standing at the front door looking in at me, wagging a finger at me and screaming “If you know what’s good for you’ll get out of that apartment right now! If I wanted you to be inside somewhere else id’ve told you!”
Like I said before, like what any smart wise guy would do, I played dumb and didn’t say nothing back to her. I figured if she wanted me she could come right on in and drag my ass right on out by my ears. I mean if Becky could be uptight about her nose, which didn’t look all that bad…but for a girl I guess it was…I should’ve been downright frantic about the way my ears looked to me with her pulling and yanking on ’em all the time…I kinda figured that after she’d get through with me that by the time if I ever grew up that I’d look more like Dumbo than some normal kid would.
Well anyway I guess with me not saying anything was a good move because Becky’s mom went to the door just a muttering up a storm in some foreign language that I’d never heard before just a hustling and a bustling and throwing her hands up all around like she was swatting flies. She kinda looked like a the Tasmanian Devil cartoon tornado I’d seen one time when I went to see the Wizard of Oz at the Lowe’s; and that was pretty neat because when you opened the door to go in they had something called air-conditioning. Well, she closes the door behind her but not before she remembers my first name and tells me “You stay put!” and no sooner than she’d gone out, than Becky jumps up from right beside me and follows her out there too; of course, before she leaves she’s just hadda turn around and tell me “Your mothers got my mothers Irish up and she won’t be the same for a while so you stay right here and don’t you dare move.” I hafta admit that that’s the first time that I ever listened to some girl the first time that she ever said anything to me. Thinking about it now, I guess you could say I was lucky.
Anyhow, naturally, there’s all sorts of yelling going on outside the door; sometimes it got loud enough to understand that they were cussing at each other out about and what they were saying but some of the times when it got real quiet and that’s when inside me I kinda got all nervous because I knew that almost anything would be better than to be back in 5-A alone with her. And just sitting there when it all came down to thinking about what I really wanted I knew anything that might come along would be better; it’s just that I never figured that that anything would really change for me all that much.
Sure, I could tell ya that right then and there that I wasn’t worried…but I was. And I could tell ya that after sitting there all alone listening to the screaming and hollering coming through the door that my stomach didn’t turn all upside down and get all pukey like…but it did. And I guess I’d hafta admit that just hearing some of the things that my mom screamed out didn’t make me feel rotten…but I’d be lying there too; especially now thinking about the fact that after I looked down into the courtyard from the terrace and wondered about those five flights and what it’d be like to just do it and if not doing it just made me into a sissy chickenshit ’cause I didn’t have the guts to just go and drop off the edge to get away from her forever and ever.
How long I sat there after it all got quiet I guess it was like fifteen or twenty minutes tops but for some reason through it all I didn’t finish the puzzle; instead I just sat there waiting, figuring that sooner or later I’d find out…and I did. Becky’s mom, Mrs. McCandle came in through the door fuming like gang busters just as mad and as p.o.’d as I’d ever seen any another woman, except for my mom that is, scowling and mumbling under her breath something like “Do bhrigh bragart rag lamaranta bonn bruich…iargalta olfhainn biddy (that stubborn pig headed half-baked…whiskered surely old biddy).” Erin go Bragh there ought’a be a law! Gonadh (Damn)…some people are… gu lèir imleagach (totally impossible) and I just met me one! She’s probably a Democrat and works for the government!”*
She walked straight into to where I sat and sat herself down and just stared at me then said “Now I see where you get it from! You’re both just like two peas in a pod and god help you both because you’re both as stubborn as a jackass with just half a brain and but one thing on its mind.”
“…ohh hell and damn…I can see it on your face that you heard her. Terry, she’s more than upset and probably didn’t mean half the things she said… so I suggested…uhm…well…no that be telling you a lie and I won’t be lowering myself to bend the truth even a wee bit…not now.”
“So, your mother, for some reason thinks its best that she impresses upon you the fact that she … that you and her …don’t get along all that well…she says you curse and fight at the drop of a hat and always go off your own to do whatever it is that you do and won’t talk to her. Looking at you though I can’t say that I blame you for all of it…takes two to sour the milk pudding.”
She sat there all quiet and looked at me for just a couple of seconds then asked me “Well, aren’t you going to ask me anything about what we’ve set on and what I’m leading up to?”
I just shrugged my shoulder and shook my head one time because I knew it was tough being a tough guy but I did feel kinda stupid when I gulped down what cotton was in my mouth because I knew that only a sissy would swallow back and show someone else how nervous he was and I was no sissy and I had the skinned knuckles to prove it.
Just before I was gonna open my mouth and say “No” I hear her say “Terry, she wanted to send you straight off to reform school and was getting ready to call them to come and get you. We walked down the hallway arguing and cursing each other all the way and I know you heard some of it; but not all. That’s probably for the best because Rebecca heard everything that we went on about and what she did and before I could say a word and stop her she ran off down the stairs to somewhere…I don’t know.
“You know…I’ve never been in a proper donnybrook but your mother…hmmm…well…given some of the things she said to me she might’ve had something else to think about, like my Irish temper, besides you. Fortunately your grandmother was able to calm her down a bit; but for how long who knows, but well, let’s say that after some quiet discussion and a proper legal threat or two on my part that she agreed that you both need some time away from each other…to let the dust settle so to speak. What we’ve agreed to is a little time away from each other for you both to calm down and maybe some of your bruises will fade away…so for the next week you’ll be staying here.
“Would you like that? Well are you going to say anything to me or are you going to keep on playing the strong silent type with the devil may care attitude that isn’t fooling a soul?”
“I can see on your face,” she went on “that you don’t want to go home now; but Terry, for so many people “Home is the place when you have to go there they have to take you in.” Unfortunately for you, right now, your mother may prove to be the exception to that.”
“She wants me dead,” I said ‘and then the problem would be solved for both of us.”
She gave me the once over and acted like what I said was something really important which I guess in a way it was because the next thing I know she asks me right out of the blue “You read?”
“Duhh, do you?” I said snidely. “Of course I can read. I told ya, I ain’t stupid.”
“How old are you?” she says. “Old enough to read, why, what’s it to ya?” said I.
“Fair enough,” she says “what else do you read besides Robert Frost?”
“What’s it to ya? If it’s any of your bee’s wax I read whatever I can and if you’re gonna ask me why…just because I like to, that’s why, besides I like books too, so there.”
“I’m afraid that won’t do,” she says, “Why not?” I said.
“You have to have a reason because no little boy your age that I know has ever read anything written by a poet; except for nursery rhymes and as for books, that’s laughable.”
“I guess you don’t know many little boys my age then do you?”
“No wonder your mother can’t handle the likes of you; both like water and oil. Not only are you a roughian and rudely impudent but your smart as well. Unfortunately, right now, you don’t dress the part do you?”
“I don’t care what you think, besides, I didn’t ask for…” “No, your right, you didn’t, now hush. I apologize, what you read is your own business and as for how you’re dressed well I’m afraid that that too is something which you will have to deal with and none to soon I’m afraid.
“If it were all up to me I might be willing to let some things pass; especially with what’s pinned around your waist but it’s not and for the record it’s not for me not trusting you but someone else who might be getting ideas.”
“What’re talking about?”
“Straight and to the point…so you’re quick as well…maybe you’ll understand. Now before you say another word let me explain the terms and conditions of your temporary separation” she said as she pulled her hand across her lips signing me to “zip it.” I was waiting for her to throw away the key but instead she just put it on the table in front of me.
“Now, she began, “for the record, your mother thought that putting you in diapers would keep you out of trouble…well…if you were locked up in some dungeon someplace or out on a farm somewhere with no one around, maybe it would’ve worked but not here. I tried to tell her that it’s a rough neighborhood and that would only make matters worse…hmmm…but it’s almost like for some reason that she wanted you to get the tar whaled out of you.
“Maybe she thought it change you. Me…I don’t think so. I think you’d rather…look over a ledge and think about something else…getting away.
“You see,” she said, I might not know many boys your age but do understand some things which are best left unsaid, besides it’d be a sin.
“Now where was I, oh yes, of course, we went back and forth, you probably heard some of that in between her calling me a Mick and me calling her a stupid …ahhh… I admit, she almost got my goat right then and there…so I kept a civil tongue about me…well…mostly…and I won’t bore you to tears with it all but boils down to this.
-
“It’s not a pleasant thought Terry and I’m sorry about the situation, but all you have left in the world is what you’re wearing now and more of the same. That beastly woman who dares call herself your mother has gone and tossed everything else of yours into the dumbwaiter and rang for it to be dropped and I would imagine that by now Sam has gone and emptied the lot down the garbage chute or hauled it all to the alleyway trash to be collected. She made a special point of telling me “Don’t bother looking” because she cut up all of your clothes so that their so much as useless rags so “not even the ragman” who calls on the street “could use them.” I wish I could stop there but she went on about your books, baseball cards and even your comic book collection too “Tell him they’re all gone as well” she said.
All I could do was sit there and I guess it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell anyone that the look on my face said “I can’t fuc-k’n believe this shit!” I closed my mouth and didn’t say a word because all I could think of besides me sweating was not only didn’t I have a stitch to wear but that all of my special comics and the stash that I’d taped to the inside of some of their pages and some of my books too, or to the back of a few of my extra special cards, was gone and that I was stuck here and couldn’t do a damn thing about it unless I was willing to take the chance of running down five flights of stairs and then going through all of the smelly garbage to try and find everything that mommy dear had thrown away. I could just see myself sinking up to my waist wading and sweating in that smelly mess holding my nose with all the smelly glop and slimy gooey crap that was there sticking to me and …
“Terry? Terry? Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Yea yea, I just need to get outta here real fast but I can’t go like this! Please, don’t ya have anything that I can wear that isn’t for a girl? If I hafta I’ll even wear shorts!”
“’No, ’fraid not, but Rebecca has several dresses or outfits that in a pinch would probably fit you. You could slip into them quite easily but she has nothing that even begins to pass for boys clothes; and as for her shorts, neither a girl nor a boy in this neighborhood would wear them out and about unless they were looking for trouble. Terry, around here, just like long pants, good girls only wear shorts inside their home, per the norm, except to the beach, outside they only wear dresses; so if you want I’ll get either and you can wear it, but tell me, why do you want to go out now and where would you go in such a hurry?
“Nuh uh! No way that I’d wear her clothes!”
“But didn’t you just say that you’d wear her shorts? Besides if you want to go out you’d need a blouse too.”
“No I wouldn’t ‘cause I’m a boy not a girl! Besides all I’d need then would be a “T” shirt. Look, you don’t understand! I’ve got some really important things inside some of my comics and books and other stuff that I just gotta get to! I don’t care what happens but I gotta go! ”
“Well that’s what you say now but what are you going to use for clothes? Besides, what happens if you go out and get yourself caught wearing nothing else but a diaper…how far do you think you’ll get then? Come now, there’s no need to rush out; you can always replace what she’s gone and thrown away now later can’t you? Right?”
I didn’t answer her for a couple of reasons which were none of anybody’s business.
“Well, am I right?” she asked again. “They make thousands of comics and books… you can always go and buy more later on. But I’ll be asking you, why are you more concerned with comic books and the like when I would think that it be the clothes that would concern you now especially when you’ve really nothing to wear? So I’ll ask the question again, what’s so important about them?”
“They’re just mine…it’s all personal…that’s all.”
“Hmmm…so you’re telling me that a smart lad such as yourself would dare risk going out and trudging through piles of putrid garbage for some books and ten cent comics? Something doesn’t ring true…it has a certain smell to it. Now then, that being said, Terry, if you really need to go out and make a complete fool of yourself, be my guest, but understand that once you leave this apartment that I won’t come down stairs looking for you or the trouble that will find you. Now, if you’ve a mind too I'll get some of Rebecca’s clothes and you can try them on or you can just get up and go and see just how far you’ll get dressed just like you are.”
I inch-wormed up in the seat but didn’t get to far off of it thinking about the stuff she said. She was right, at least about one thing, that if anybody caught me in girls’ clothes or worse yet just diapers that they’d need a blotter to pick me up. I didn’t say anything, why should I’ve? Besides, after a couple of seconds I figured that she’d start talking to me again and I was right; but I hafta admit that with my head hanging down that I tried to wipe my face dry because my eyes had started leaking thinking about so many things. Somewhere along the line in-between me thinking of books, comics, clothes and cards she handed me a folded paper napkin and said “Here, use this” and then she went on with “Don’t worry, you can always get more comics and books but as for your clothes, well, right now, except for what I have on hand of Rebecca’s, your stuck in what you have on. All the department stores including Woolworth’s are closed for the weekend and neither Macy’s nor Gimbels will open their doors come Monday at nine in the morning.
“Terry, somewhere along the line we can find something that will fit you; with a little bit of work here and there, you’ll fit right in and no one will be the wiser.”
“Yea right that’s just great besides I’m not stupid everyone’ll know” I said but I should’ve already known better about what she was thinking; but I didn’t. What I was really thinking of about was my mom…why should I want to call her that…I mean…she’s nothing special to me…not now anyhow…I think…if I’m a “you”… to her… then just “her,” or “she,” or maybe even “it” will do for her.
I turned away from facing Becky’s mom…I mean no real boy wants to sit like a baby and cry in front of anyone let alone let ’em watch you while you do it. I guess she took the hint and moved a chair to sit along side me and for a couple of minutes she didn’t say a thing to me…she didn’t have to. Besides when she did start to talk to me all I could do was just sit there and listen. The thing was that before she did she gave me another napkin and said “Here, you might need another before I finish” and boy was she ever right.
“Terry, your mother and I have struck a bargain and for the life of me if it were up to me it would be otherwise so listen closely. As I said before, for the next two weeks you’ll be staying here with Rebecca and me; that much you already know. What you don’t know is that I have certain friends who deal with cases involving both permanent parental custody and temporary placement in foster homes; that was the phone call I made earlier; my friend is beginning to process the paperwork as we speak. Your mother wasn’t at all happy about it but has agreed, reluctantly so, to have me named as your custodial supervisor. It was either that or have both of you wind up in custody; you as a ward of the Borough and her in the local precinct cell for abuse. A little threat in some instances goes a long way.
“That much being said it actually serves both of your needs, at least on a temporary basis; it gets you away from her and vice-versa. Besides, your grandmother told me that your mother actually needed someone to look after you on a short-term basis. You see, the reason that you’re moving here is because your grandmother has a health condition which requires her to move to a warmer climate so your mother is taking her to Florida for her health and she will be gone for at least two weeks. When she gets back we’ll see what happens then; but until then, you are now my responsibility. Anything to say about that then?”
I just shook my head “No” and kept on wiping my eyes and maybe sniffled a couple of times thinking that unwanted shoes and clothes are always given away and like them that I wasn’t much better. Besides, I all of a sudden felt like I was like a chocolate Easter rabbit…all hollow inside.
“Well then Terry, here is the rest of it, besides all of this, for you it doesn’t end there; in fact, in the short term I don’t envy you…no…not at all…and it goes back to the way you’re dressed. You’re a boy and Rebecca's a girl so I need a certain sense of security, peace of mind where the both of you are concerned and that’s what you’re wearing now will help with. Protection.
“Remember I told you before that while I might trust you that I couldn’t fully trust another. I meant my Rebecca who is a couple of years older than you but who most certainly has certain ideas about the moving parts of your lower anatomy which I would much rather be kept pinned away and under wraps from her roaming hands; unless of course, you were both properly supervised. So, I’ll need to ask you, are you regular?”
For the life of me I didn’t know what she was talking about or leading up to so I just shrugged my shoulders and said “Yea sure,” I said, “I’m just a regular guy I guess, why?”
“You don’t understand” she said back to me with a smile but all serious like, “What I meant was do you go to the bathroom and have a sit at a regular time in the morning or afternoon or does the urge just strike you and I don’t mean what a boy can do standing up. That much I understand about boys. You see,” she went on, “me or her changing a wet diaper on you together in the morning or afternoon is one thing…but changing a smelly one is something quite different and right now that’s something I won’t put up with.”
“Wait a second, you can’t be serious! I don’t need diapers and you can’t make me wear ‘em either! And as for you or her changing me…forget about it!”
“Well, we’ll see about that especially since you have nothing else to wear except what you have on right now and all of the others which are heaped in a pile outside the door down the hallway. So tell me, how will you go about it? What else are you going to wear and where are going to go and who will even begin to look after you?
“Terry, understand, I know you don’t need diapers and if there were another way to keep the lower half of you off of Becky’s mind without them it’d be done; but given the situation with you being here and her wanting to investigate every inch of your body, things could get out of hand quickly. So I’m afraid that there’s no other solution; besides, it’s only for the next two weeks. Just remember when you have to sit it better be for the second of two things otherwise you’ll be cleaning the mess up yourself and getting your bare fanny blistered over my knee with an audience to boot.”
“Look,” I said, “I don’t need diapers and I won’t wear ‘em and I won’t use them!!”
“So why are you wearing them now?”
“I didn’t have a choice she just put ‘em on me!”
“Terry, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. You haven’t a choice in the matter; I’m bigger than you or your mother and I could do the same thing but I won’t. You either wear them and use them as an accommodation of staying here or you’ll be someplace else; and starting off by wearing them just the same; at least here you’d be safe. You aren’t in much of a position to bargain; besides, those are part of my terms for staying here. Now, will you take it or leave it? You decide.”
“You mean you got more than just that? What else is there?”
“You’re a smart lad haven’t you already figured it out? I haven’t the money to pay for sets of new clothes for you and I won’t be risking what I have saved on the chance that sooner rather than later not only would you be taking off for parts unknown but also that if you were to go back to your mother that in all likelihood she’d cut them all to shreds again. So here’s the last of my set of conditions; you simply wear what is on hand and make no attempts to either run away or refuse what you are given to wear which are Rebecca’s hand me downs. That way, you’re covered and I’m fairly certain that if you did think of running away it would make you think more than twice.”
“Lady you’re crazy! There’s no way that I’d wear her stuff!”
“So you say now and I’m sure that you’re sincere…but what say you sit and think about it for a while of what will happen if you leave here in just diapers when they either come to take you away or find you out on the street roaming about. When the word gets out, and it will, what do you think will happen to you?
“Now, what say you just sit there and think long and hard while I busy myself making lunch? Sooner or later Rebecca will be back from wherever it is she ran off to then together you both can have a bite to eat before you make your final decision. Is that o.k. with you?
“I’ll even leave the door open so if you decide to go off on your own I won’t be stopping you; and Terry, falling five flights onto a sidewalk below is no way to run away from what your facing.”
I could have gotten up and left but she was right. I couldn’t go out in just diapers and get pounded by whoever found me and then wind up somewhere else, wherever that was, worrying about whether or not that later in the day that I’d be eating lunch through a straw. I was trapped. She knew it and so did I. I turned myself around in the chair and watched her fix the lunch she promised and right off I knew that one part of me said “It’s going to be a lot better than what she ever made for you; while the other parts in my head kept telling me…run. They lost. I was hungry and tired…of lots of things…so I just closed my eyes and smelled the smells that made think if only things had been different.
That’s when I heard her humming a tune then whispering the words almost to herself but I think she was doing it really for me so my eyes started to leak even more as I heard her start off by say something all soft like “Ahhh, yes Tura Lura Lural” and then I heard all the words that I still remember. She began with….
“Over in Killarney,
Many years ago,
Me mither sang a song to me
In tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty,
In her good ould Irish way,
And I’d give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day.
"Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Hush…now don’t you cry!
"Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
That’s an Irish lullaby.
"Oft, in dreams I wander
To that cot again,
I feel her arms a huggin’ me
As when she held me then.
And I hear her voice a humin’
To me as in days or yore,
When she used to rock me fast asleep
Outside the kitchen door.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-lo-ra-loo-ral,
Hush…now don’t you cry!
"Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
That’s an Irish lullaby*”
Somewhere towards the end she had sat down beside me and with her hands on my shoulders pulled be close to her, gave me a hug and let me cry. I wanted to stay.
__________________
*Written…1913 by James Royce Shannon
-
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.”
-
“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… “Sweetie, 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.”
“I have a good mind to just get out of here…next time you want anything don’t bother to call me.”
“Shut 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. “How 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. “Here…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 ’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.”
“So 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. “You 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.
-
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 “So 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.
-
“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.”
-
“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. “You 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. “Mom” 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.” “Mother, 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. “Bec…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 “That’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 …
-
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.
-
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.
“I 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. “Ohh 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.
“It’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?
-
Begin? Well I thought that that was kind’a dumb for her to say, what in the hell did she think we were doing now? Anyhow’s all I could do was to mutter back at her ”Yea, right, begin whatever” to which she said “Yes Jo, we begin whatever” back at me. I could lie and tell ya that I didn’t think about running away but I won’t; besides, the sinking feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach about having to dress like a girl, for even once, was making me feel less inclined to say anything else which might come back at me. So there I sat, knowing that two girls were watching me get the hair in my eyebrows yanked out one hair at a time and I knew without even lookin’ at ‘em that they were all grins and giggles about it all ‘cause I heard them after each time Mrs. McCandle’d pulled one out’a my head.
Anyhow, just sitting there with a head full of wet hair with someone picking and pulling at my face made me all the more antsy because I was beginning to feel like a bug under a microscope being watched and prodded by some mad lady scientist who was about to perform a grand experiment on some kind of trapped creature: except that in this case the creature, me, knew what was gonna happen to it and was yelling back to himself “Help me, help me” before anyone knew it even happened. I was toast and that’s the faraway look I pictured myself of what I was gonna look like after this was all over: I’d be some sorta “Creature From the Black Lagoon” something to run away from; or maybe “The Thing... boy…transformed into mutant sissy.” All I knew was that once she was done with me that I wouldn’t be me again; I’d be something else or worse like outta Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers: changed into something weird, repulsive and too gruesome to look at but interesting enough even for Ming the Merciless’ Klytus to later make fun of and then squash but only after Ming’d let Princess Aura torture him into submission one hair at a time.
So I sat there with Princess Aura frittering away at my eyes while her henchmen were whispering like two goody two shoes back and forth to each other. As for the evil Princess, I noticed that for some reason or other, she liked to go “Hmmm or ahh hah” after each time she jerked a hair out like there was something magical that was attached to it that she’d just found at the end of it but then go right on and then talk to herself with a “Yes, now that one right there, don’t move and ahh hah…wait…almost there. Wait, just a little more…let’s see now…yes, this one will do. Hmmm…hmmm….o.k. Let’s see how you…ohh….well yes…the little one right there will have to go too…yes and you too.” I guess it was about after the umpteenth time that I got the nerve up to ask her “Hey wait a sec…stop. Don’t, don’t you think that maybe that ya pulled too many out? Well?” I waited for her to answer, didn’t hear jack and was about to open my yap again but before I did she went and said “Jo, no. Besides having a full head of hair, your eyebrows are something else and while it may seem to you that I’ve gone off and plucked too many, I haven’t and there are plenty left that hint that you’re a boy while not making you look too feminine; just a hint. Once you’ve looked in a mirror you’ll notice the dozen or so brutish ones over each eye are those that I’ve taken. Now then, lift your chin up and let’s have a final look” she said.
Well, I tried to do what she wanted…look at her and only her…but naturally, I really kept trying to sneak a peek over to where Becky and Sam were and every time I did look over Mrs. McCandle’d turn my head right back at her. I mean, I knew that if I was gonna look like a stupid fruitcake then I figured that it’d be easy enough to know right away just by looking at ‘em. I just didn’t expect them to act like they did. No silly giggly squeals or screaming at me “Look at youuuuu! or Ooooooh.” No, it wasn’t anything like that: it was worse. They were stone cold quiet. They just sat there and stared at me like they’d seen something that they didn’t know anything about (which I guess thinking back that as for me that that was true) and were trying to make up their minds about whether or not I was really some kind’a jerkazoid that they’d want’a be seen with. Anyhow, it was hard for me to read the minds of the two mannequins who did nothing but stare at me and just as I was about to ask them “What in the hell are you guys looking at?” when Mrs. McCandle up and gets in the next couple of words with “Jo, I know what you’re thinking but don’t worry about what they think you look like, believe me, you look fine; nothing spectacular mind you but surprisingly most passable. That’s what their looking at.”
I took a quick gander over to the two just in time to see them nod with their mouths dropped wide open just like they were puppets and just like that the “Inquisitor” up and turns my head back around to look at her and goes on with “Jo, really, you look fine. I know it may seem to you that I’ve gone overboard but I’ve not…still…the rest I’ve left, which even for a tomboy is quite a bit but I won’t be taking anymore. What’s done will have to do.” For a second I thought that that was reasonable until she went on with “Now then” and before I could say anything kept right on with “For the next part you’ll have to keep your eyes closed tight and listen to what I’ll need you need to do.” Well, I thought she meant to close my eyes then and there so I did what she asked only to hear everyone laughing as soon as I did and that when she said “No, Jo, it’s o.k. to keep your eyes open until I give you some cotton balls. It’s when I’m finished pining you that you’ll press them firmly against both of your eyes and whatever you do if one gets wet keep your eye closed and ask for another but if something gets in your eyes whatever else you do, don’t rub them.”
I was worried so I asked “Why…what for? What’s pining? Why should I do that?”
“Jo, it’s because I asked you to that’s why. It will be easier to explain what it is while I’m doing it; now sit still and hush” she says while pressing a finger to my lips which for me was a first because no one ever told me to shut the hell up that way or nice before. Anyway she keeps on talking but not to me it was “Rebecca, be a dear, in my closet on the second shelf to the right are my rollers, I need one, would you…”
“Right, I know mom: medium? Right? Be right back and Sam…you stay.” And with that I could hear the sound of her pushing back on the chair she was sitting in and knew she must’ve been in some kind of hurry ‘cause even the table groaned when it scraped the floor when she pushed herself away from it while talking to Sam who straight out barked right back at her with “Beck, I’m not a dog, but woof woof. Feel better?”
Even I knew that that was supposed to be a sarcastic joke between the two but I was more concerned with what was gonna happen to me. It was me that they’re gonna watch whatever it was that was gonna happen too. Sure I thought…I’m brave enough…and if I’m gonna be tortured I won’t cry but why should I need cotton to cover my eyes? I’d sure like to see what it was that they was gonna do me.” I really thought it wasn’t right. I mean, only a real sissy would close his eyes. And why in the hell would they get wet; I mean I’m not a sissy. A sissy would cry for his mommy: of course, inside I knew that the very last thing I wanted was to cry; especially for her.
Trying to sort all of this crap out was making my head spin and at the time it didn’t help at all when Sam went yanked my chain when she went and prissied up to me in sing song with “I knowww what’s gonnnnna happennnn to youuuu-oooh: you’rrrrre gon….na get pi—iii-ned …..”
Right then and there I decided that that wasn’t gonna happen. Of course, her idea of what she was teasing me about and my idea of what I thought she was threatening me with were two different things and that’s when I up and showed everyone how damn stupid I was when I went off on her with “No way! Deals off!!! I’m outta here! There ain’t no way I’m gonna let you or anybody else put anymore pins or needles in me!” That bit of news being said I tried to bolt but couldn’t shake the death grip that for some reason Mrs. McCandle suddenly had on me and in-between me trying to scram I was yelling a quick “Lem’me go!” at her while Sam got my first salvo of a firm and quick “Screw you you jerk!!! Drop dead!” targeted right at her followed by a gush of cuss words that kept on coming starting off with “You’re nothing but a stupid bitch!!!! Of course I kept it with a whole lot of other stuff that I thought sort of just fit right in that I knew was meant for girls that I’d picked up on from some of the customers while working on the boardwalk. I have to admit, that at the time I didn’t know what most any of them all meant except that they were words a guy could throw out and use in a tight spot or in a fight or when he just needed to yell out loud to anyone else or no one else in particular: at least that’s what I thought until they were all explained to me; but that was later, after things got settled down that is.
Anyhow, explaining what happened after that is simple enough. I blubbered and yelled ‘till I turned blue and doing all that while Mrs. McCandle was trying to calm me down by talking to me; most of which I ignored because I didn’t hear most of anything of what she said or for a fact didn’t really want to. As for Sam, she’d backed away from me when I started cussing at her and started crying while boo-hooing like I did something bad to her while bawling and blubbering at me “You…you hurt my feelings!” over and over again.
Of course, I’m thinking like “I heard ya the first time and I like really care about your feelings” while at the same time thinking “Back at ya!!! Not that mine didn’t really matter to you then either!” Anyhow it all came down to me running outta gas just about the same time I hear Becky giving Sam a boatload of grief and razzing her about making fun of me; which was news to me ‘cause I really thought that what she said was really a threat. Well it really turns out it was both.
Of course, there are two sides to every story: the one that ya think you know about and the other one. My side, once Mrs. McCandle heard it, put a damper on anything that she was gonna do to me because of me mouthing off to ‘em both. Still, once it was all settled, I really still thought that Sam deserved it, my mouthing off to her, and just for the record even if I did apologize to her like I did later on because I sorta had to, she still held a grudge and got me back good with a dirty trick later. But like I was saying, right then and there things got calmed down enough for it all to be explained to me; about what being pinned really meant and not something that my mom had gone and done to me just to get me to say “I love you mommy” back to her.
Sitting there I felt kinda dumb when it was explained that what was gonna happen had nothing to do with needles or pins; at least not the kind that ya get stuck with. It was when she, Mrs. McCandle, asked me “Jo, how on earth would think that I would go and stick you with either a pin or a needle?” That I didn’t answer her right away really didn’t make much of a difference, at least to me that is, ‘cause she almost jumps down my throat when she kina barks at me “No, don’t say a word. We’ll be discussing the matter later; it’ll keep” and then before I can tell her “O.K. or thanks” she goes on and tells me all that was gonna happen and why. Like first that she was gonna twist almost every hair on my head just a little bit of it at a time around one of her fingers and then put a bobby pin on it which sounded pretty cornball to me; especially after I had gone to all the trouble to keep it all in place, nice and straight with all the brylcreem I’d been using. “That” she said “will be the first of what will happen after which I’ll be using just one roller for the hair above your forehead.”
Really, I wasn’t all too keen on any of this and didn’t have a clue about what “adding volume” anywhere on my head had anything in the world to do with my hair.
The blank look on my face told her I didn’t know what in the hell she was talking about or what was gonna happen: which thinking back on it, was for the better, ‘cause if I knew any more about what I’d look like after maybe I wouldn’t have just sat there. Especially after she promised it wouldn’t hurt. I mean her doing it wasn’t like getting slapped around like I was used too or having someone jab you with a sewing needle or making ya sit on a pin cushion in your underwear because they wanted you to say things back to them that you really didn’t mean and wouldn’t stop hurting ya until ya did. All I knew was that one way or another I was still trapped and even if it wasn’t supposed to hurt that I’d wind up crying about it all anyway after it was done ‘cause I knew that I’d be one step closer to looking like a girl. Turns out she told me the truth except for the fact that after I seen what she went and did… it hurt me anyway, even more than the smelly stuff that she squirted all over my head which she went and warned me about before she did it by telling me “Jo, we’ll need to be careful; if the solution gets in your eyes it will burn the bejezus out of you.” It stunk like ammonia.
Well, long story short, not only did it really stink but she was right: it burned real good. Oh yea sure, I yelled that “It got in my eyes!!! It got in my eyes!!!!” a couple of times or more and just as quick someone either Becky or Sam would tell me to “Keep your eyes shut and wipe with this” and then hand me a wet and cold wash cloth to wipe away the burning and then just as quick another handful of cotton so I could keep on pressing the stuff up against my eyes. It took a while to get all of the junk out of a squeeze bottle and it didn’t help that it went down my back either. Ms. McCandle told me that “It’ll take about ten or fifteen minutes for the solution to work in the meantime you’ll have to sit still” which I did without answering any questions from either Becky or Sam about anything except stuff that had to do with what I’d like to do after Mrs. McCandle’d finished with what they both said was a “perm.”
That she had to wash my hair again before she did was beside the point; in fact, before she “gave” me “it” she said that she had to wash my hair again before she did it because there was still a good amount of Brylcreem left on it that hadn’t washed clean and then went and told me “Actually Jo, you’re hair has a natural wave to it.” I mean I was sitting there listening to her tell me something that I already knew about and tried to get rid of: I didn’t want naturally wavy hair that tried to curl itself up like some pig’s tail. I wanted my hair to look boss.
The bad thing was that with all the extra time that it took to do all of the washing and the re-washing and then the drying and then the curling and then getting pinned followed by the swamp smelling gunk being dumped on ya and then sitting with it on for god knows how long only then having something else called a neutralizer poured all over your head and having it go into your eyes like the first stuff did made me antsy enough to start to realize that I really, really needed to take a whiz.
It was when my head went under the sink’s faucet for the umpteenth time that I couldn’t hold back anymore and it happened.
_____________________
If you are reading this now, think about it. Without support you may soon not be able to.
-
(I thought I did this before...this is like deja vu all over again).
There was no place to run or hide. Try as I might, fidgeting from left foot to right or even crossing my legs back’n forth while trying to bend my knees or doing both at the same time - didn’t do no good: bottom line, me really trying to hold it back wasn’t gonna work. What made matters worse was that the tap water was getting on up into my nose and that made me start to sputter and hack up a storm which sort’a worked against me trying not to do something that I knew was gonna happen anyway. In the back of my mind was the fact that two girls were watchin’ me dance ‘n squirm around. Hell, I was no rocket scientist but I knew they were both staring at me like I was tryin’ to do a really bad impression of the shimmy. I mean I could almost feel them drilling holes right through me almost, with my head shoved under a tap and the water running hard enough to almost drown me and my butt moving like it was keeping time to another tune that I kept hearing on WABC 770 radio called “In the Mood.” ‘Course for me that was the old stuff that ya always heard but for what was happening it sort’a fit right in..
Looking back at it…in the long run, it wouldn’t have made no difference no how, but at the time just the thought of what was about to happen – takin’ a whiz right in front of everyone and knowing that they knew it and were watchin’ me while I did it- made me think that that would be the most awful thing to have to do and really at the time for me - it was. It didn’t help at all when Mrs. McCandle went on and tells me “Jo, if you don’t stop moving around we’ll never get done; so hold still now and I mean it.” I told her later on that it was easy enough for her to tell me that “…because not only are ya bigger than me, but ya had a death grip on my neck and right with it you’re holding my head right under the faucet with it going full blast. I was thinking that you were all about drowning me!” I remember her smiling back at me and joking around with me after I told her that. ‘Course her giggling when she told me “Jo, if I’d have known you were that close to drowning I’d have done a proper job of it” made me think that maybe she wasn’t all that bad. I’d find out later how right that was but that was later on.
Anyhow like I was saying, ya gotta know I was thinking that if my head was all wet “…then the rest of me might be pretty close to being there too.” ‘Cepting it really wasn’t. And then when I tried to yell out “Stop! I’m getting all wet!” Well, that’s when she up and tells me “Nonsense, no such thing is happening” and that “it’s just your imagination running wild.” I guess her “wild” was one word you could’a used to describe it: but…frantic…would’ve been my choice; because I knew there was no way out of what was happening. I mean being a guy and all - I knew that from what happened a couple a times before – you know the feeling – if you’re a guy that is- that when I was desperate and hadda go real bad that I could always hold out and if it got a lot worse that there were ways to cut loose without anyone knowing about it. Well …thinking about it…maybe ya don’t. See, in the city even if there isn’t really a bathroom close by to go to, if ya gotta take a whiz, there’s always an easy way out. I mean, not because you’d find a bathroom to use (hell no-no one in their right mind would’ve let ya into their apartment to use theirs if’n they didn’t know ya, and if ya went into just any corner drugstore or market and asked to use theirs they’d just tell ya to go to hell and find somewhere else to go; and no, ya didn’t whiz your pants for obvious reasons. The unspoken truth was was because you could always duck on in back into an alley and find a dark corner somewhere outta sight. Think about it…there were a whole lot more alleys to go into than there were phone booths on corners that ya hadda walk a whole block or more to get to.
I mean, you just knew that if you were walking the sidewalk that you could always just sorta drop on in outta sight: that is if you knew the neighborhood and looked real close, there was always an alley waiting just around a corner. Rule of thumb was ya walk in… always cool…like ya been there before…you know, like a hundred times and ya owned the place: stroll right in, do what ya hadda do and then just turn around and walk away and la-dee-da there ya have it.
No muss no fuss no flush – just shake it and then badda bing badda boom you’re about out and one cool cat because with the zip after y’ur done, ya put yourself away, pat y’self down and strut out like nothing ever happened…ya don’t even stop to look around and almost dare anybody to say anything to ya and then sh-boom…you’re on your way.
But enough of me skippin’ around the point because like I said that’s when it happened: what made matters worse was that my “Ohhh jeez” was just loud enough for the Bobbsey twins who were standing right behind me to hear it. It sure as hell didn’t help me one bit when I heard them right off start whisperin’ in girl talk all the things that they say under their breath just loud enough that they tease you for you to hear but deny that they ever said anything like it when you tell them to “Shut up!” Ya know it’s always what they do to ya, smile, shrug their shoulders and then deny that they ever said anything with a question riht back at ya like “Shaddup? What are talking about? Ohh, excuse me…did you mean “shut up?” Shut up, what for?” I mean it’s like what ya really did hear wasn’t what they really said sort’a like a politician when he tells a to “trust” him...right. I mean really, ya know what ya heard, to me it was like: “Sam…Look’t…Ohh yea Beck…I see it too….wow. He’s going. Yea…shhhhhsh. Don’t shhhsh me. Well then… O.K. I know I know….cute butt especially when he wiggles it…but…Ohh Beck this is too much. I can’t wait. For what? You know for what…for later…like after? Ya know? Yea Sam I know-shut up already. You shut up. So? So Einstein ya think we can help right off? Don’t see why not. Yea sooner or later we’d get to do it. Right? We? Yea, we. We..you-me like we talked about before when we were out shopping. O.K.? Right? Well? Yea, right, O.K. already just shut up and watch. Look…c’mhere look’t from this angle - then scoot just around to the front – see it? Yea, that’s….”
It was just after that when I heard them both chuckle out “neeeeat-o!” at the same time. I remember that ‘cause it was like listening to WQXR broadcasting in what they called “the new stereophonic sound” which they said was supposed to be way much better than hi-fi; sure, that may have been true but at the time the only thing I was thinking about was how I was gonna turn around and face ‘em both. I tried to figure out the best way to handle it but nothing came to mind except for me thinking that I’d like to be somewhere else; but since I couldn’t wish myself away or for the ground to open up and swallow me whole I did the only thing that I thought of and that was to close my eyes and keep ‘em closed. It was when Mrs. McCandle’d dropped a towel on my head and started to work me over with it that I thought that that was just about the best thing that ever happened to me. “Good” I thought “now maybe they’ll just go away and leave me alone.” Course it was almost like finding gold at the end of the rainbow ‘cause there was no such luck.
Naturally, things being what they were it was only going to be a matter of time before I had to face them which I did a couple’a minutes later but only after I got up the courage to open my eyes and after letting Princess Aura guide me over to sit me back down at her inquisitor’s table.
Ya know, that even before she took the towel offa my head I knew that something was up because I heard the rustling around of a bunch of stuff. That’s when I decided to part the white towel that was coving my face. I found out what it was was that thing-a-ma-jig hair dryer, which was getting all set up on the table and that all of them were gonna watch me get it with it. I mean here I am and I look on out and there was this grey twisty hose all hooked up to this machine at one end and some big- plastic bag hooked on to it at the other. I thought about movin’ and duck’n for cover but didn’t.
Let me tell ya, sitting at a table like I was and opening my eyes to find two girls grinning at me from ear to ear was a little scary; because while they can stare holes through ya they’re thinking about what their gonna do to you which has to do with the stuff that’s setting right between your legs. And that’s what they did…they just stared and smiled at me with the biggest grins on their faces for the longest time without saying a damn thing. Thinking back on it, I think maybe that I should’a had a blind fold. It was after Princess Aura’d put Ming’s “Desiccation Bowl” on my head and pulled the ends to some cord to make the chamber even tighter that I heard Beck bet Sam “Bet ya first turn. Loser watches twice. Closest to it either way wins…flip if tied. I’ll go first. I say nineteen minutes. You?”
“Well, he ain’t got much hair, compared to either of us, so I’d say seventeen.”
“Done and done, mom you’re a witness.”
“Witness?”
“Yup, me and Sam just bet each other firsts turns and whoever is closest wins.”
“First turns? Wins?”
“Yea, on how long it’ll take to dry his hair.”
Just as she turned on Ming’s Infernal Inferno she asks them like she’s playing dumb “I understood that part. It’s the “turns” and “wins” that I’m not too clear about.” And with that she just started chattering back to them making it clear that “I had reached a conclusion several moments ago, that neither of you will win a thing over a bet like that.” What more was that somewhere in the ten minute lecture she gave them with me sitting there about “preying on another’s misfortune” I found out that that was “not a character trait” that she “tolerated” which was sort’a good news to my ears. Thing was it wasn’t all that I heard because somewhere in-between hearing that and her asking “Rebecca, how would you feel if he were to watch me getting you ready for bed too. Would turnabout be fair?” That was when Beck sort’a went all red faced, gulped back a quick “Mother no!” and started getting antsier than I was. As for Sam all she did was to giggle at what she’d heard; sort’a like a cat let out the bag.
Just for the record, the thing was that later on I’d find out that Beck really had a problem that she was all embarrassed about because it was about something that Mrs. McCandle’d told me before about when Mr. McCandle went MIA last year. Me, I didn’t know mine let alone miss any sleep over him being gone so I guessed right then and there that if I had one that maybe I even liked half-way that I might get all stressed out about it like she was. Anyhow, tweedledee and tweedledumb weren’t too happy after she got finished telling ‘em that they could both sit out the first coupl’a rounds which was like music to my ears ‘cepting the that after sitting under that dryer for a while things got hotter and I ain’t just talkin’ about what was happening to my hair. Thing was that about two to three minutes into what Mrs. McCandle called “the drying process” she got the notion to up and take my hands and just sit there and stare at them like they were growths coming outta some blob that she was giving the once over to. Well, once a specimen and long story short is that she up and turns off the heater on my head and tells me that “Jo, your hands and nails will never pass for a tomboy’s.” I figure swell she’s telling me something that I already know but that was just the start because she followed up my shrug and a nod to her with “Good, then it’s agreed. While you’re sitting here it will take a little work but we can change that.” She couldn’t help but see the look on my face which was like “WHAT!!!” and when I tried to mutter out “UHHH UHHH” up like a shot came her right hand which made me counter by tucking my chin down and in around my left shoulder while I tried to block with my left up close to my chin and nose. All the while I made sure to set my jaw so that when she connected my teeth would still be around and then did what I’d never do in a real fight: I closed my eyes and waited for the slug to land.
All that would have worked just fine except for the fact that that wasn’t at all what she was gonna do. Nope. Instead, of getting rocked into next week all I felt was one soft finger which came to rest ever so lightly on both of my lips. I guess it could have been all of five seconds before I dared to open my eyes wondering what in the hell’d happened and when I did that’s when she said “Jo, believe me, I would never slap you in the face. Now then, before you jump to conclusions, if you will, allow me to explain?” and after an uncertain nod from me she went ahead and said “I’m not proposing anything rash but just look at your hands, please. Just look at them if only for a moment. See what I see? Look, besides the skinned knuckles… here around the nails where the skin has grown out? Jo, with a little white lie, the knuckles are easy enough to explain away but not those cuticles. Jo, remember how you picked out Samantha’s nails as something wrong with the image presented you. Would you be willing to risk it downstairs if someone else just as smart as yourself were to give you the once over?” My immediate frown didn’t help me much ‘cause she took that as a “No I wouldn’t” which was just about giving her the green light to go ahead and do what she was fixing to do.
I guess I knew where she was going with this but just the same I was a boy not a girl; not some sissy who couldn’t take care of himself one on one or even two on one for that matter. No, it just wasn’t right; but I hadda admit, she had a point and I was thinking to myself “No girl’s hands looked like mine and I’m proud of it” when she goes on and tells me “Sweetheart, I understand it’s difficult for you to fathom why…but all of them really need to be…well…I’ll use the word “trimmed.” I promise you there’ll be no pink or red fingernail polish; in fact they’ll be just like Rebecca’s.”
Of course, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that as soon as she says her name that I gotta go and look and sure enough there’s little Ms. Tweedledee holding out both of her hands showing her nails of to me. Honestly, it was the first time that I ever ever even thought about looking at girls fingernails for any reason; well, I guess that I had looked a time or two, but that was only to see if they…no…forget about it… whatever I was gonna say just wouldn’t sound right. Anyways she shows me her nails, which I already knew had no pink or red polish on ‘em; but just the same they were all bright and shiny clear: ‘course, looking at ‘em gave me the willies so much so that I closed both of my hands into fists.
Mrs. McCandle kept on sweet talking me about how “painless” it was all going to be to which I told her “That’s easy enough for you to say.” She agreed with a smile and telling me “You’re a smart lad…but yes it is. Now then, if you’ll be so kind…unclench your fists and let me take both of your hands then close your eyes and dream pleasant thoughts.”
“Ya gotta be kidding me, right?”
“No. At some point Jo, you have to believe that the pleasant thoughts will come.”
So there I was: getting my hair dried under some stupid machine that sounded louder than a Hudson letting some lady who I didn’t know from Adam do stuff to my fingers so I did what any guy would: I closed my eyes and clamed up.
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Anyhow, there I sat wondering about a lot of stuff; trying to keep my mind off of what it was that was happening…but couldn’t. Ya gotta know that just sittin’ there with my eyes closed, feeling someone actually paying attention to me-even if it wasn’t what ya’d call anything near normal for a boy, made me feel, well, how do ya feel when it really rubs ya the wrong way but all the same ya know that for some reason it’s the best ya ever felt? That’s what it was that was eatin’ at me. I knew it was all wrong but just the same it was someone holding my hand instead of whacking it five times palm up with a wooden ruler who was trying to prove a point or to raise blisters.
All the same though I kept wondering if any of what she was doing was gonna be worth it. I mean, I was a boy, looked like a boy – least wise I sure as hell thought I did – damn sure acted like one and for the life of me there wasn’t one thing about me that I could think of that didn’t make me one; especially the stuff that I personally knew that made me one that stuck out or hung right between my legs. “Course, I’d never seen any girls’ naked stuff but all the same I knew that there was something that was there between their legs that I didn’t have which made them a girl; an ‘cepting the fact that at some point before they got to be old they got boobs that grew in. But then again that was something that you could see; I mean, they poked out under their dress so that they showed and got bigger when they got older. Well they do don’t they? Sure thinking about them sort’a made me think of the obvious…I mean…doing this stuff wouldn’t mean that mine would just start to grow out too would it? That thought just creeped me out.
But enough of that, ‘cause all the while I’d been sittin’ there wondering that, after a while it kind’a all started to make sense to me about what she was doing and why. It was the last part, the why, that really stumped me. I mean, right now she seemed nice to me; but what about later. Besides, deep down inside I knew better that to trust a stranger who was trying to be nice to ya. I knew it didn’t make no never mind about some people, no I take that back, I knew that almost all the grown-ups I’d ever met were mostly mean and two faced liars and that it only took a little bit of time for the side that they really and truly didn’t want anyone else to see to come out and jump right back at ya right in the face.
Sure, o yea, I know your sittin’ there and thinking that I’m a shmuck for thinking something like that. But let’s be honest, if you were the one getting his head handed to him all the time for no real reason in particular what would you be thinking about? If it’s anything else you’re a liar because you would have’ta know that somewhere, there’s something that’s eating at whoever it is that you’re dealing with. Problem is…finding out and then making sure that, well, o.k., you’re right … I’m skeptical or maybe more than that. Most grown-ups I knew wouldn’tve thought twice about stiffing me for the geetus I had stashed and a the rest of ‘em wouldn’tve given a rats arse about whether I had a place to stay or not; for sure I’d be down at the precinct lickity-split and then shipped off to the re-form school that she always threatened to send me to; and I knew that any of ‘em, especially her, would’ve been happy to hand me over to anyone just after they’d signed the papers. Sittin there thinking all of that sure made it seem like it was true and no surprise. But…I knew there had to be an angle to it all. There was something about Mrs. McCandle being nice to me that made me feel off…almost like she was trying to make up for something. Question to me that I couldn’t finger was what?
Problem two that I thought of that was real was one that hurt me more. It was the way that her and Becky acted. I’d never been around…. crap…scotch that thinking about it makes my head hurt. What I mean to say about what I’m thinking is that I can tell that Becky more than really likes her and that she actually likes, I mean, no, that didn’t come out right and I guess it’s because of Mrs. McCandle. Even when she tells Becky something it ain’t in the same way that I remember anyone telling me that way. So why should I care that whatever it was that they wanted me to hear wasn’t like that at all not even one time.
So, I’m wondering while sittin’ and not trying to peek at what she’s doin’ ‘cept I know from what I’m feeling that she’s brushing something back and forth on my nails but all the same I’m sittin here wondering; does she do this for her, I mean Becky too? I mean why should I start crying over something stupid like this? Why can’t it be something important?
‘Course right then and there it hadda be Becky that opens her yap and tells me “Look, you know, you’re weird because I know you’re upset but it doesn’t hurt; really, when mom helps me with mine, it never does. So, you don’t have to go and cry over it.” “Course I could’ve told her to shut the hell up but didn’t. Nope, I just sat there, teeth clenched and just turned my head away and tried my best to wipe what was leaking outta my eyes with my free hand; but before I could finish I hear “Yea” from Sam “I really just started doing mine too and it never hurts me either; so don’t be a big sissy cry baby over it. Jeez, ya’ big sissy ya’d think that someone was tryin’ to kill ya!”
Thankfully I hear “Girls, it might be best to let the matter drop…and that is not a request, do you both understand?” “Yea, but mom” says Beck, “You really aren’t hurting him: you and I know it. I just love it when you do mine and you know I do. It just makes me mad that….” She’s interrupted by her mom with “Rebecca, the subject is closed and not for discussion. And as for you Samantha, hold your tongue or you’ll be seeing yourself the way out the door straight off. Understood?”
It was then that I decided to open my eyes, just a squint or two just enough to see ‘em both nod that they understood and then just as quick to look back and stare at me. I would’ve told them both to take a flying leap but before I could it was Mrs. McCandle who sort’a took it from there when she said “Well, were almost there. Jo, please…look at your fingertips.” Which while I wasn’t none too happy about. I did what she asked anyway after which she asked me “See where I’ve cleaned the cuticles?” I kind’a arched my eyebrows or what I thought was left of ‘em and shrugged my shoulders. Hell, I didn’t know a cuticle from anything and sort’a admitted it with an “Yea I guess so.” That’s when she tells me “Jo, the cuticle is or was the dead skin growing out closest to the nails. See here” she said while now pointing “where I’ve gone and trimmed the nails on each of your fingers and cut back on each of the cuticles.” I sort’a muttered back an unenthusiastic “Yea” and then remembered as I backtracked it with a glum “Sorry. I meant to say “yes mam.”
“Yes, I understand” she said back to me. “They don’t look anything like they did before. Waited a sec’ then went on with “I’ll grant you that under other circ-umstances that you’d never get anywhere near looking like they are now. I’ve done the buffing so that all that we lack are both the clear base and finish coats. When were done they’ll look just as fine as Rebecca’s.”
“Yippee-I-yo-ki-yay” I think to myself as she goes on not really caring about what in the hell I would really think with “Now then…it’s been about twenty minutes and I want to check under the bonnet so that if you’re dry we can comb and then brush you out. We’ll do that first as I don’t want any stray hairs falling on either the first or the finish coat; before that though lunch. Rebecca and Samantha can have the honors of finishing it up: girls.”
I hadda admit, that about this time lunch sounded pretty good, but I knew better than to ask what in the hell the “coat” she was talking about; figuring that sooner or later that I’d find out and again be none too happy about it anyway and lunch seemed more interesting to me than anything else anyway. It was then that I noticed that the Bobsie Twins kept staring at me or rather at my hands which made me look at them again too. I felt stupid as can be when I really gave them a good hard look too and noticed what Mrs. McCandle’d done and sort’a let out an “Ohhhhh” which was because I was surprised. I had to admit that they looked…well…yea…different…a whole lot different; which I thought was both bad and good. Hell, I couldn’t explain it to me because the more I looked at ‘em the more nervous I got and just as I was about to have a conniption over it all that’s when Mrs. McCandle takes the plastic cooking bag off’a my head and starts to probe all around my head; pulling bobby pins of here and there and yanking out what felt like gobs of my hair left and right while muttering things to herself that I either couldn’t hear or understand when I did. Long story short, she finishes up snatching every one of the pins out and then starts to comb my hair like she was doing the same thing to some dog after it’d gotten a bath: well, that’s what I thought about the whole thing. Woof. Woof.
In the meantime Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Other couldn’t make up their minds. I mean, instead of just finishing up lunch which had been, my god, first one of ‘em would stare at my fingers like they were newfound tentacles or something then switch their focus to what was happening up to my face ‘n hair; ‘n then back’n forth, back’n forth they’d go. Sometimes it seemed like they were looking at my hands at the same time and then just as quick look up to see if they’d missed something; like my head’d opened up and worms’d just crawled out of it and it didn’t make me feel all too good when all of a sudden like they’d stop and yammer to each other, always whispering in one another’s ear and then looking back straight at me almost trying to see something that was there that wasn’t. To top it off the only thing that I really heard from either one of them was Sam flat out telling Becky “No way…you would say that because I look more like one than he does” which I didn’t know which way to take. After that it was just plain quiet; like she’d gone and said something that everyone had to think about and it was all quiet until Mrs. McCandle’d chirped at ‘em both “Lunch ready yet girls?” Both of ‘em answered with “Yea” at the same time.
Before, when I’d opened my eyes enough to look around and before all of the brushing and finishing up of the cooking took place I’d noticed the clock on the kitchen wall and had marked the time: it was now a good twenty minutes past then when Mrs. McCandle declared herself “All done” and didn’t waste any time in barking out orders to Sam and Becky with “Well then, if you’ve both finished…let’s clear the table so we can eat and then we can finish up: shall we?”
Between the three of them, with me just sittin and watchin’ lunch found its way onto the table. Mrs. McCandle asked for Beck to say a blessing and thank god I didn’t say out loud “That’s funny, I didn’t hear anyone sneeze” ‘cause it was only after that I heard Beck say “Dear Lord, thank you for our blessings” that I knew what she was talking about. Personally, I gotta tell ya, I didn’t think much of either, god or any of his fancy blessings and that’s just the way it was.
Well, the food was good and more than what I normally had and to be honest it didn’t take me long to wolf the fries and burger down like there was no tomorrow. If I was gonna be thankful for anything it’d be the grub I just had and let it go at that ‘cause I knew that someday later on I’d be without again and that what’d I’d just eaten wouldn’t even be much of a memory. Well, that’s what I was thinking then and I felt pretty good about it too. Be that as it may I didn’t have much time to wallow in what I considered was my philosophy of life of getting what I could when I could and just saying the hell with the rest because it was her again, that Mrs. McCandle who broke my daydream of being back on the boardwalk hustling for a buck or two with her telling “Rebecca, while I begin the first clear coat, I’d like you and Samantha to gather up the dryer and then pack it away; after which go to the hall closet; you know where, third shelf right of center and pick out the sheets for the twin bed in the sewing room along with a matching pillow case. Make it up for Jo and ohhh, yes, you’d best get one of the waterproof sheets that you’re not using to go under it all too. There should be two left to choose from. Now then..” she said turning to me “you and I have some unfinished business to tend to” and with that sat herself right down in front of me again and started to mess around with some little glass bottles; looked up at me and smiled and just as quick turned to the side and told Becky “Well, didn’t I ask you to do something?”
It wasn’t Becky that moved first but Sam who almost jumped out of her skin and bolted for the hallway turning right and just about slipping when she did a quick ninety; it was Becky who stayed and sort’a looked at her mom kind’a strange and just a whole lot peeved and just before she was about to say something her mom told her “Rebecca, we’ve been over this before, poor behavior is never commendable. Sweetheart, I mentioned the sheets to let you know that of all the things you could possibly cry and feel uncomfortable about that that would be the least of your worries; much as like cutting cuticles which draws a tear or whispers under one’s breath in front of someone which give rise to worries. When I tuck you in tonight I will explain, now, please do as I ask and I want it perfectly clear: make certain when you return that both you and Samantha are more considerate; especially with respect to our guest. Well, I can tell you Beck was none too happy but did like she was told; thing was, I think it was when she got half-way down the hall I heard her snap at Sam with “It’s all your fault, just because he looks better than you and me and you know it you have to go and mouth…..” That’s when I heard a door slam with them jibber jabbering away at each other behind it.
Now then” she said looking at me right in the face and flat out asking me what I thought was a question with “Jo, we have unfinished business? So, if you please, I’ll take one hand, makes no difference. Please?”
I sort’a gave her my left only because I twitched and just happened that way. I closed my eyes and waited for the worst; which I knew would happen so I just waited for it like I normally would’ve except instead of doing what I thought she’d do she didn’t. What she did do was to give my hand a little squeeze and say “No, I can’t do this without telling you. Jo, before I do anything else, please, look at me? Please?” I didn’t want too but that wouldn’t make any difference; especially to her because she asked me again with; a “Please?” but somehow the way she said it this time was different. So I opened my eyes and that’s when she started out the same way with a “Jo” but after that all I heard was “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I didn’t mean too.” She stopped for a sec and looked at me ‘cause I mean, I was surprised and wondering what in the hell is she apologizing to me for? If that wasn’t enough she goes on with “For what it’s worth, please understand that I know how terrible you must feel and why you felt you had to cry. That part I really do understand. But, you see, if that’s not enough I’m afraid that when you see yourself again, in a mirror, that now you’ll think the worst of me and it’s my fault. I would say that you have every right not to talk to me for a while so I’ll apologize now and then after; and if I have to, yet again and more. I had no idea I would succeed so.”
She kind’a let it hang there waiting for me to ask her something, anything, which I guess was about what in the dic-kens she was talking about. When I didn’t say squat and saw the look of confusion on my face she went on with “Jo, it has to do with how you look. I’m sorry. My intent was merely to suggest; unfortunately, I have failed. Do you understand?”
If silence was golden right then and there we’dve all been rich and what with me not knowing what in the hell to say back to someone who was apologizing to me, well, it made it all the more worse. That’s when she up and tells me “Jo, the whole idea was to help you pass as a tomboy. When I tell you that will not be a problem not only will it be the truth, it will be an understatement. When you look at yourself, then, you’ll understand.”
I guess it showed on my face what I was thinking especially when I tried to say “No” and almost choked on it. Sure, she tried to explain it all to me about how it was all “temporary” but really I knew better; she’d gone and done to me what I always thought was always threatened and now was expecting me to say “That’s O.K. It really doesn’t matter. Forget about it!”
Sure, I could’ve yelled at her and cussed up a storm and maybe she’d have let me get away with it and not busted my chops when I did: but it wouldn’tve helped; especially now that I knew what in the hell that those girls were looking at and why. I mean I was thinking “How in the hell am I supposed to face them here and now let alone anyone else later on? What’m I supposed to say when they look me up and down and start to laugh’n smirk at me? I mean I knew that even if they didn’t laugh at me right in my face, that one of them would always be laughing at me behind my back and then swear up and down she didn’t do no such thing. The crazy thing was that right then and there I only had them as a guide. I mean, what’re you supposed to think when a girl you don’t know from Adam just spouts out loud that you look better than her or her best friend as girl who looks good like a tomboy even if she is a real girl. I mean. Sure I thought that maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Still, I thought without me really seein’ for myself I’d haf’ta either take their word for it or just think that they were all nuts.
So with all this stuff runnin’ through my head Mrs. McCandle tried to ask me a couple of times if I wanted to say anything to her about it. Actually, she told me that “Jo, I would feel a whole lot better if you would tell me something, anything will do; go ahead and yell at me. I promise I won’t be angry.” I thought about it and being bleary eyed with a lump in my throat just couldn’t stand to tell her anything besides, I knew that if I did start to tell her off that anything that that might just make the whole situation a whole lot worse than it really was. And it was a good thing too because a couple a seconds later the Sam and Beck creeps on back into the kitchen and sits themselves down and before they could say a words Mrs. McCandle asks the obvious “I take it then that you’ve made the bed?”
For the ten minutes that followed from them nodding “yes” there we all sat; except for the breathing, soundless. Them watching me and me always knowing that they were and what was said and about how I looked compared to them both. I guess it was outta good taste that none of them let on any more about how I looked thinking it a foregone contusion. I’d been beaten up enough and they let it go at that.
Naturally, the silence had to end at some point and again it was Mrs. McCandle getting me outta there without me losing it and all she hadda do was to tell me “Jo, by the looks of it you’ll be needing a change. Come with me and as for you two” she said to Beck and Sam “you’d both be asking yourselves what it is that you can do to help the situation instead of making it worse. For instance” she went on “once the three of you are downstairs: games to play, places to walk or friends to share with? Rebecca Evangeline, I may be wrong, but I’m holding you responsible for anything that happens and by that I’m referring to anyone else outside of this room finding out about Jo not being a…tomboy. Do I make myself clear?” but was obviously looking at Sam when she said it.
And with that she led me on back to what would turn out to be “my” room, not for the two weeks I’d thought there’d be but more weeks after that than either of us had planned on. Well at least me that is.
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I guess you could say that what happened then was to be expected; that is at least as far as Mrs. Candle was concerned. I mean, she knew the color of the sewing room wasn’t white like most rooms would be. Uhh, uhh, nope, I kind’a came up short and stopped dead in my tracks when we hit the doorway to where I’d be sleeping. I wasn’t expecting anything great. I mean, I was expecting the paint to be peeling off the walls, like I was used too, but it shook me up when I looked around and saw that the walls were still in good shape but painted some kind’a color blue, which Mrs. McCandle straight of the bat told me “You may as well know, the walls are powdered blue above and below the pasted chair rail border. As you can see the border has been there for some time…we…I…well…let’s just say I’ve grown accustomed to it and find it hard to see myself removing it just to paint over. In any event, this will be your room for the next two weeks: closet is right over there” she pointed, “to the left and we’ll make some room to hang what clothes may be suitable for you to wear in it. On the opposite wall is the Singer and next to it is the bureau; and except for the top center drawer where I’ve stored some of my sewing needs the rest are empty; so when I get through changing you, you can set about placing what diapers and plastic panties your mother left for you in them. Now then, up with you, go on, up on the bed and be quick about it; the sooner we get you changed and up about the sooner it is you can begin to get yourself straightened out; then, you and the girls will have some acquainting to do.”
None of what she said really sank in. I mean, I couldn’t believe it. The room looked like it was all made up for some little kid who might have really liked looking at pictures pasted on some white strip of paper who I knew were Bambi, a rabbit named Thumper and the skunk who was named Flower. Oh yea there were a couple of bigger deer that I guessed had something to do with the story which I’d heard about but never seen and, well, actually, while I did read the most of some picture story book real quick about it I couldn’t remember their names: of Bambi’s mom or dad that is. All I remembered about it was that what happened to them both wasn’t really good and for some reason reading it kind’a made even angrier at just about everything; especially of him being left all alone. To me, it wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair. And really, it was after the fire and when he got left all alone is when I stopped reading the book. I mean, why bother reading something that’d make me cry. It kinda made me felt like that’s not on the top of my list of what I’d ever want to have happened to me: cept’n now I really understood about how he must’ve felt.
Anyhow, while I’m taking all of that in I can’t help but notice that the bed she kind’s nudges me over to and wants me to set my keester on is all made up. I mean, first off, this bed was way bigger than the old, fold out, wooden army cot with the brown pee stained canvas that I was used to sleeping on. I mean it had the works: pillows, and a real cover. I mean, it looked like a real, honest to goodness bed. Right then and there, the only problem was everything that I saw had some kind of pink on it; and the stupid girls doll, that one of the idiots put on the bed up against the center of the two pillows, well, it didn’t add that much more to making me want to claim any part of this. The problem was what choice did I have: none; and I knew it and all I could do was to mumble to myself about “It’s not fair. None of this is fair. I hate, god how I hate…”which was interrupted by Mrs. McCandle asking me “Jo, if you’re of a mind to, it would help to speak louder. I can’t understand a word you’ve been muttering and if it is me that you’re upset with just speak up and we’ll have it out. No secrets now, shall we?” As she pointed to the bed which I knew meant that she wanted me to get on. Well, I did tell her “Yea, no secrets like you should know everything. It’s just not fair. I don’t want‘a or haft’a wear diapers or pee in them because you say you can’t trust her, I mean Becky, when for some reason it’s really me. I’m grown up and old enough not to haft’a wear diapers. I don’t need them, really, and you’re just trying to make me wear them just the same as my … no…I won’t ever say that name again for her ever. I hate her and hope she dies. God don’t I wish that she’d...”
“Stop! No, you can’t mean that” she shot back at me along with “don’t say that or dare wish it. While I agree there are many things you can be angry about with her, wishing that is wrong. So…”
“Wrong? How can you stand there and tell me it’s wrong?” I shot back “You can’t be serious. You have no idea. I don’t care what you think what I should wish for. There’s nothing you can say that can make me change my mind about it, nothing, nothing, nothing. So there!” I made sure to look at her straight in the face when I said it with what I thought was a gritty I’m not budging look.
“O.K.” she tells me, “Stop a moment and listen. I agree, Jo, by the look on your face, there is nothing I can tell you that will change your mind and for the life of me I won’t try; but what I will do straight off is to tell you something; that you will listen to, and on that mind you, you will listen. Now” she went on with a hushed “please, just sit on the bed and listen? O.K.?”
That last part, the way she said it, surprised me and my “Yea sure, I’ll listen but just because you’re telling me something I don’t have to like what I hear do I?” I waited a sec and after she shook her head I went on with “I mean, you said I’d have to listen and I will… so…go ahead…tell me…what is it? Look. See?” I said as I clambered up on to the bed which, when I plopped my butt down made some kind’a crinkly noise. “I’m sittin’ right here on the bed just like you asked me to. O.K.?” which for some reason only made her smile and it was just after she broke that smile that she turned around, reached out and then closed the door then turned the skeleton key to lock it. Damn, I thought, she’s gonna go and beat the hell out of me and no one will be able to stop her so I closed my eyes, tensed up and waited for her to take the first poke which I figured would send me either heels overhead backwards or flat out right up against the headboard. Instead I heard the springs to the bed give way as the place where she decided to sit made some scrunching noise too when she sat and then felt the mattress just to my right push down and give way with her sitting next to me; her being the closest to the pillow and doll.
I guess it took a good thirty seconds or so before she said anything to me and even that wasn’t like I expected her to do. I mean, I expected a lecture about something that was supposed to make me believe every word she said was the truth like it came from the Bible or something like that. Something that would make me a goody two shoes right off the bat. I mean every scolding, lecture or getting told-off I’d ever had normally began with “You.” You shouldn’t have done that…blah, blah, blah, blah blah. Or, you should have done this…blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Or the one that went “You little…blah, blah, blah, blah…which of course were the words that normally would get my mouth washed out with soap for saying…which I guess for me a history of could’ve been a case of Ivory Snow. Nope, instead the first thing I heard was “I’m sorry. Forgive me? Please? How can I ever ….” and with that she just stopped talking and just started crying. That was it. She just sat there and cried a river with me sitting right next to her. It was strange. For some reason I felt like a real heel. I mean, I knew that I didn’t say anything to her to make her cry, I mean, how could I make her cry. It was dumb. It couldn’t be and that was that; except she was. It felt like years just sitting there and even the knocking on the door or hearing Becky ask “Mother? Are you all right? You’re crying? Uhh, do you know that the doors locked? Can I come in?” didn’t stop her from either answering or crying some more.
It was strange just sitting there not knowing what to do: and as for answering Becky back, well, if her mom didn’t answer then I sure wasn’t going to. Besides, honestly, I couldn’t. Not because I didn’t want to but because I felt terrible. It was like I had somehow hurt her; but that I knew was impossible. Well, I can’t say for sure how long it was after that that she managed to stop crying enough to up and tell Becky, who was still on the other side of the door and with Sam just a jabbering away between the two of them a shaky “Rebecca, I’m fine…and no…you can’t come in. We’ll…we’ll be out soon. I promise. Now…please…go and play or… or…better yet, just turn on the television maybe you can watch Arthur Godfrey and His Friends or The Guiding Light.”
“Mother, Arthur Godfrey was over two hours ago and The Guiding Light doesn’t come on for another hour and a half: at three.” Why can’t I come in?” was a question she asked that I was thinking of too. Really. It made me feel kind’a strange sitting there for a change, and no, with me wet I’m not making a joke, and me not knowing what it is that I either said or done to make her cry. So, I sorta, kinda like, just reached out and patted her left hand which was down right beside her. It was after that that she goes on and tells Becky “Sweetheart, as I said before you can’t come in.”
“But why?” was the same thing I was thinking that Becky asked and it was kind’a odd just sitting there waiting just like Becky for some kind of answer that would make sense which after a deep breath Mrs. McCandle tells her “Rebecca, it is a private conversation. You know the one which we had several months ago? The one which I explained about the foggy foggy dew and how things worked between…”
“Mother, you’re not serious! Are you?”
“Oh, more serious than ever; now, if you please, find something to do and we’ll both be out shortly. O.K?”
To which all I heard was a huffy “Yes Mother.” After that it was stone cold quiet for a minute with me and her just sitting there like two bumps on a log and with me clueless. So, there we sat until she twists herself around to take a look at me and the just up and tells me “Jo, no secrets, all I ask is that you listen. After that think what you will, alright?” Well, at least she gave the chance to nod a “Yes” before she tells me “Good. Now then...”as she kept wiping her eyes off “…it begins like this, with me explaining to you the facts of life.”
Yea, sure, I know, there I sat just wondering what in the hell she was leading up to and then when she started to explain about what she, with a laugh, called “the foggy foggy dew” and what it was, I mean the real name for it and all about how babies where made I just sat there with me listening to her explain to me about how things worked between boys and girls. I guess being dumb as dirt had its advantages or maybe it was just the fact that she was taking time to explain some of the stuff that I’d heard about out on the street but I can tell ya for a fact that she definitely had my attention; at least for this part of what she was telling me. And, when she asked me if I understood everything she told me and I nodded “yes” well, she up and asks me “Good. Then try and explain it back to me.”
“What?” I said with my jaw dropping wide open.
“You heard me. In your own words what did I just tell you. Explain it back to me.”
“You can’t be serious…you’re not are you?”
“Oh yes. What’s more is that we are not about to do another thing until you, in your own words, tell me what I just told you. Now then, I’m waiting.”
“Yea, so am I” I quipped back “I mean, you, your, well, you’re older so you know more about stuff and that sort’a thing, I don’t, well, at least I didn’t. And now you want me to tell you back stuff that’s sort’a icky?”
“Yes, explain it and you may include the icky and the reason is simple, Jo, when I bathed you, I couldn’t help but notice that your developing, actually, your sprouting a hair or two in the appropriate area, which means that sooner or later you and the foggy foggy dew will be a pair. Now then, in your own words explain how it works.”
Sure, there I sat, wondering, how in the hell do I remember all the different words she used to describe what she told me. I remember the part where she started off with “the anatomy of a female and a male are …..” but after that I was numb and I know that every time she lifted my chin up off the floor for some reason she’d smile at me, but, I mean, I was stumped. Her little prodding question like “Must I explain it all again?” got me to tell her “No, once was enough, I think. I mean….”
“You mean” she said “that for the moment you are at a loss for words. Is that right?” Which gave me the opening I thought I needed so my “Oh boy, yes, am I ever.” I thought that that would be the end of it when she smiled when I said it, except, she was quicker than what I’d given her credit for because all she did was tell me “Good, then the explanation will be worth the wait. Take your time” which is what I did.
Seventy ump-teen seconds later it was me trying to gag and choke out what she told me without making any sense at all. The grown-up words she’d used didn’t sound right when I said them and it all seemed like a mish-mash of gobbly gook make up crap that some bone head would use. It was after the third try that it finally came to me on how to tell her I got it. “Well, if I can’t use the right words right now, I promise that if you ask me later I can. But if you want I can give you an example of how it works, I can, if that’s o.k.?” A “Yes, an example would be fine. I’ll wait.”
I pointed and spoke “O.K. Look. Mrs. McCandle, look, see, over there at the door?” Her “Yes” was almost laughing but I didn’t take it the wrong way instead I just went on with “Good. Then see, there’s the lock and key. Well, if the key is like the boy part all stiff and stuff and the lock is like the girl part, it’s the part the key fits into, well, when you put it in and turn it you expect something to happen. So, it’s like that when a boy and a girl get together they have parts that fit and supposed to work together; ‘cept the foggy dew part you were telling me about from the boy gets into the girls lock part and might make a baby. Well?” “Well” she said “we’ll have us another talk later when you’re able.”
It was after that bit of news which I was pretty eager to test out to see if I ever got the chance in private to do something else that she told me about. But it was then that she told me something else which wasn’t so great and it was about her and Mr. McCandle and of how they “met just a year before Rebecca was born, something happened. "At first" she said "I thought it was just wonderful, until, for some reason, I thought I had changed my mind.” I guess to her it made sense. To me, well, mud was clearer than what she’d just told me. Of course, she had to stop, wipe some more tears away from her eyes and then just started in again but all of a sudden like back tracked on what she told me first by saying “Jo, let me begin again. At the beginning of WWII I met a wonderful man, an army lieutenant, my Colin S. McCandle. It was love at first sight and being young lovers we, well, let’s say we were passionate: just like I explained to you. Several weeks later we eloped. He deployed and nineteen weeks later, after a fall, I started to bleed and to make a long story short, after a stay in the hospital I went home alone. It was not the best of beginnings.”
It was right there she gulped in a big breathe and sort’a mumbled something to herself which I guess was o.k. I mean, for me, I had no clue about what she was talking to me about except for the fact that something happened to her first kid which rang a bell to me with me thinking then that Becky had to be either her second or third; which meant that whatever it was that happened was bad. Anyhow, after her taking another deep breath she goes on an tells me “Jo, at first I thought that having a child would be wonderful until I realized that I would be all alone to care for it and for the life of me the though ran through my mind that I would better off without it. I mean, Colin was deployed overseas and here I was and I’ll admit it…I was scared and miserable, felt sorry for myself and wished for about a week that there was some way to just start all over again without being pregnant; without being burdened. Jo, the gist of matter was I fell, by right it was an accident, I got my wish and have regretted it ever since. Your wishing reminded me of the one I made. That’s it. No secrets. Now then, to end the story, like you, it was a boy.”
And with that bit of information she just sat there for a couple’a minutes more. Mrs. McCandle all but ignored the knock on the door and the voice which asked again “Mom? Can I come in now?” Except for the “No” she said just loud enough to hear, it seemed right to just sit there and be quiet except for the fact that somehow, it wasn’t right: me sitting there, odd man out thinking about what she’d said, Becky asking for something and not getting the answer she expected and Mrs. McCandle all quiet still wondering about what she’d wished for and got and still regretted.
Not too long after that is when Mrs. McCandle got the gumption up to flat out tell me “Jo, after I change you, take your diaper and pants down the hall to the left and put them both in the diaper pail that’s already in the bathroom. Then come back here and we’ll find something for you to wear…together. Oh, and while Samantha may have some items which may or may not fit, regardless, the lot will have to be washed before anything is worn. We can go through each and determine what will or won’t after she’s gone home. Now then, lie back and wait for me. I’ll need to get a hot and wet wash cloth to wipe you off before I put you back together.”
“There were a lot of things I could’ve told her before she up and left me but didn’t. The fact of the matter was that for some reason I felt a whole lot more comfortable than before. Of course, that feeling sort’a skipped out on me when after she’d left than both Becky and Sam eased their way back into the room and started playing twenty questions with me about what me and Mrs. McCandle’d been talking about. Yea, I knew what they were doing was stalling for time to see if they could get to stay and get a good look at my dink which made me worry that as soon as the diaper was peeled away that it be standing straight up. That part made me nervous. Long story short, just as expected, after whining about how sooner or later they’d not only see me but do the changing Mrs. McCandle gave in which sort’a made my stomach jump right up to into my throat and when Mrs. McCandle suggested “Jo, it may be easier for you to close your eyes and think of something else?” that’ exactly what I did. Of course, when the wash cloth ran over every bit of what was there to see and the girls started to giggle at what was happening it didn’t feel like I was anywhere else but here and on display. Minutes later, after I’d gone and dropped the diaper in the pail like she’d asked me to I reported back to the room and with no girls there except for Mrs. McCandle, I not only got to choose something to wear but also saw myself for the first time at what I looked like as a tomboy.
A couple of minutes later Mrs. McCandle led me back down the hallway to the kitchen where Sam and Becky were waiting to take a gander. It may have been ten seconds or twenty or fifty, I don’t know, but, neither of the two said a word to me about looking like a dork or anything like that; no, it was worse when both of them each took one of my hands and started to walk me out of the kitchen and out into the hallway with Becky whispering “You look beautiful” in my left ear while Sam was telling me “I wish I looked as good as you” in my right.” After that, we, well, we did what Mrs. McCandle’d asked them to do, begin to teach me how to get by with what girls would first do in a hallway which was to first stand and talk about how to talk; how to talk and what to do with your head and shoulders when you did and from there it was on to how to walk and the way to hold your hands and move your hips when you did and to make sure that the steps you took were just the right steps and then when you stopped walking what you did with your knees and toes; how to position them, bend them or rotate them and then, when just right, hold still. Of course, at every step of the way, it was impressed that wrists for the most were always limp if not upturned. Jeez.
-
Irish proverb: “It is not a secret if it is known by three people.”
Anyway, just like I said, all in all it was a one way conversation: two girls telling me, a boy, what they thought the real skinny was about, the true why and where on all sorts of things that had to do with me just fitting in to look, act and talk like one of them: right, with me being mortified about how I looked; especially now ‘cause I thought I looked in one word - gruesome. Gruesome, that was the first thought to cross my mind when I got to see me for the first time, or what was going to pass as me, face to face, head to head staring me right in the eyes looking back at me in a mirror with an “I’m dead!” thought. “My god I really look like a tootie fruiti girl?! Me?”
I mean, right off the bat, I knew that I wouldn’t even wanna be caught dead out on Halloween lookin like I did right then or wearing what I was which of course meant that out of the stuff that Mrs. McCandle had set out for me to choose from that I had on. I mean, like I was wearing it but it was like let’s say it was like choosing the way you wanted to die. You knew, without a doubt you were going to die and the only way you were going to, was by firing squad; but with no blindfold. Which was O.K. so far. But to be “nice” you could choose which way to face them; which meant that in the end, well….you were still a Swiss cheese goner.
Anyhow, choosing between what she told me was 1. A blue dress of chromespun acetate taffeta and what she called a slip to go with it (yea, there was that word again (slip) but then at least I had a clue of what it was) along with a robin’s egg blue nylon blouse with real wide collar; or 2. a well-worn check circle skirt with a matching blouse which had wide lapels; or maybe it would be number 3. a quilted cotton skirt and vest set which also had a white blouse but with puffy sleeves and finally would it be a plaid Magic-Grow dress with a light solid colored frilly blouse? Those were it. No pants, no coveralls, no nothing that even looked like …. well, there were the shoes, there I had a choice: black, brown or some mixed white and brown ones. The brown were a pair of what she called oxford Sundials with crepe soles (no laces). The black were the same. The mostly white one’s at least had laces but really stood and were called “saddle shoes” – go figure.
Of course shoes and socks were gonna be a tough one but amazingly enough Beck had a pair of scuff resistant oxford Sundials with a crepe sole and several pairs of socks (white with pink trim, white with blue trim) white ones with lace or blue one with lace) all of which she said were “turned cuff anklets” (like I knew what that was and was about too) and some solid colored knee highs along with some checkered knee highs (some choice huh?).
Of course I fussed quite a bit about the fact that there weren’t any pants to choose from or something less girly (stupid me for asking) and got the same news (again in no uncertain terms) that it was these – period. I mean Gabriel Heater had better news than she did) that the pants, in the form of coveralls, shorts or whatever Sam had would come later and after I’d been “properly introduced.” So like any condemned prisoner I chose. Lucky me. Whoopee do.
But all that said back to basics. Understand, before I got to “choose” I didn’t really had taken a good hard look at me (my face, hair, or what she’d gone and done to my eyebrows and stuff) but after “getting to pick” it was Katie bar the door. I mean, there I was standing there actually had letting some strange lady dress me like a girl (and I thought that that word was really one stupid word now that I was standing there in one) it was after that that I had taken a good hard gander at myself in the mirror that was hanging on the back of door to the room I was gonna sleep in. And, while the girls might have said that they thought I looked “good” (which was after I’d seen me for the first time and before they’d seen me wearing Becky’s checkered circle skirt that fell a good six inches below my knees; a pair of checkered knee highs which really pulled up just below my knee cap; some white white shirt with sleeves that got all puffy at the shoulders and a vest which matched the skirt. Of course the shoes I had on were hers too and was the Sundials.
I had other first impression ideas. My “Ohh my god I’m dead meat” moan was loud enough to be heard through the door which then started the water works to going. After that, I let her know that my first red faced impression of what she’d done to my face and hair was “Ohhh no….my…my hair is all curly’n my eyes look different and… and… and …my hair – it’s – its wavy…and worse is that you made me …. I mean…. I look like -Betty Boop. Please, I can’t go out like this!” was falling on deaf ears ‘cause she flat out told me I would and that “your curls will loosen up after being brushed out- especially after several washings” (great they were my curls) like that was good news while making the point to tell me again that “Remember, it was important to make a “good” first impression; one which would leave no doubt” which to her explaining was “Jo, you have to play the part of a girl first, no half-way measures will work: please trust me?”
I managed to croak back a “Yea right, like do I have a choice?” knowing the answer’n dreading what would come. For the first time that I could remember I actually peed some in the diapers she’d just changed me into (well not a full blown pee just a small leak-it was stress-honest) she was telling me “Jo, I’m sorry but no, not really.”
Yea, thought so; that didn’t do much for me either. I had some real news for Gabriel Heater…there was no good news tonight.
Anyhow, back to what was going on. Of course, Mrs. McCandle kind’a sat in on the whole thing, added some stuff about acting what she called acting “nonchalant” which she explained to me as looking like “you were both o.k. and bored to tears with it all. Of course…” she added “…remember, that might make some to take you out to be stuck up … but for you that would be all to the well and good. Maybe it will keep the flies away.”
Well that bit of information drew a couple a “oohs and aahhs” from the audience like it was some revelation that girls needed in on to know as a basic because even if I didn’t care for girls, as being interested in them, right now it wasn’t like I didn’t know that they were already snooty having come by it naturally. And then when I thought that she gone and finished with her ideas on the subject she goes and says “Of course, there are the pitfalls that if you play the part too well you just may attract an admirer or two.”
That bit of news didn’t sail on by so my startled “What? What was that last part?” might have come as no surprise to her when I sputtered, “Admirers? I thought everything you said to do would make me fit in so I wouldn’t get my head handed to me. I don’t understand. I mean, if I act stuck up and snub everyone, you mean to tell me that someone else might, uhhh, like me for being a snotnose?”
With a smile she said “Jo, unfortunately the answer is yes. For some males, the thrill is in the chase. They consider it “a girl who’s playing hard to get.” Needless to say you’d be better off not turning heads for either your looks or your mouth: but enough of that. When you get older you’ll understand how that part works, but for now, for you, rule number one is: when downstairs and on the sidewalks stay close to Rebecca and Samantha – stick like glue – otherwise, only if necessary best keep to yourself. In essence, try and hide in plain sight. Rule number two: speak as little as possible, which in your case might not be all that noticeable but mistakes happen and ….”
That’s when I piped in with an “Excuse me, hold on. I … you … uhh… just said that I sound like a girl? Really?”
“No. Just sometimes, not always, just sometimes.”
My “You’re kidding me right?” only got the silent treatment because she kept right on telling me about…”Shhhh. Don’t worry, you’ll grow out of it. And rule number three is: don’t get into any fights. I don’t care the cause or the right of it.” Naturally, she finished off that thought with “And for that It would take a miracle” under her breathe. Sam and Beck thought that that was the cat’s meow, giggled like it was no biggie and then started gabbing again between themselves that “us girls should go do something else…now” which I thought would mean that I would sit it out but again like before I was too dense to accept the fact that the “us girls” now also included all of me. My god I thought I was dense what with after all the yakkity yak about how girls talked, walked and stuff I still wasn’t thinking like one: no duh.
Anyhow, the two of them decided that we were moving out to the hallway but me taking root in the kitchen it took Beck to elbowing me in the ribs to go on and move me on out the door, which being skittish and petrified was like forcing a cat to walk in a straight line without the cat thinking about it. It wasn’t gonna happen easy. Besides which just as soon as she said it her mom up and tells her “Rebecca, it is “we girls” not “us.”
“Oh yea, right mom, sorry. We girls, c’mon Jo, that includes you Jo; you can’t stay inside forever” she said and gave me another shove while continuing on with “…besides for now it’s just in the hallway; it’s not like we were going downstairs and playing out front. It’ll be fine, you’ll see. You two (she said nodding to Sam’n me) head on out and I’ll get the jacks. Be right there.”
“Sure, right” I mumbled. It’ll be fine for you guys but I’m the one who looks…”
“Good, you look good” Sam cut me off while adding “Nah, you look better’n good. I only wish. Ya know?”
“Yea Sam, I know; you want to look like a boy, act like a boy and stuff but I gotta tell ya, even if you looked worser, ya know, not pretty like a girl, you’d still get tagged as one.”
“Wait a second” she said getting in my face “you said I was pretty?”
“Well, I could be mistaken so don’t get bent out of shape. I mean what do I know?”
“No, I heard what you said and no one, except for my dad, ever called me that! I outta pound you!”
“Geez Sam, it’s not like I called you a dirty name, ya know?”
“Just the same for calling me that I need to give you a …”
“Give him a what? C’mon, what?” Beck broke in coming out to join the two of us just outside the apartment door. “What’d I miss? C’mon you two give. Sam?”
“Nothing!” Sam shot back. “I ain’t gonna kiss and tell.”
“You kissed him? That right T.J.?”
“What!? I never…honest injun. She’s makin it up ‘cause I said I thought she looked pretty. Jeeez” I was almost frantic saying “Look, if I made a mistake I’m sorry O.K. so can we just forget about that and do something else? Huh?” I said like I was talking to the walls while they just stood there and looked at each other and smiled like they were talking to each other without speaking which creeped me out some; and when they both started to laugh over what I thought it was what I said when Beck pipes in with “Ooooh I see. So why don’t “we” sit down right here” she said pointed to the right side of the doorway and “we” can explain how to play jacks and while “we” do we can gossip” and without so much as a second notice I find that both of both of ‘em are pulling me down to sit with ‘em Indian style and no sooner had our butts hit the linoleum Beck starts explaining the basics of jacks while Sam just sits there with this stupid look on her face. I guess it was like two or three minutes later, after Beck had made threesies that Sam dropped the bomb on me with “you know…we saw you with no clothes on. We saw everything. How does that make you feel?”
“Yea just shut up, o.k.?”
“Nuh uhh and you can’t make me either. So, I’ll ask you again” she said whispering “we saw you with no clothes on, all of you and you were hard there so it must have made you feel good, right? You know both of us, Becky’n me have baby sat little boys and changed their diapers so we know how your little thingies get stiff when there touched…you’re so like them and what’s more is that soon we can both be the one’s who’ll get to change you all by ourselves and no one else will be watching. Wadya think about them apples, huh?”
Sure right then I looked over to Beck for help but the smile on her face told me that the two of them were just waiting to get me alone so I just sat there all quite: dumb and numb. It was only a couple of seconds later that Beck chimes in with her ante to the other game the two of them were playing with me with “You know she’s right y’know. We’ll be changing you and get to see you all over again and again…so while you were getting dressed we made a pact…between us girls that if you gave us any static you’d be sorry. You see, we girls are more grown up than you so when your with us we decided that you’d have to listen to whatever it was we said; sort of like Simon Says except that when we tell you to do something you do it. O.K? Good, that’ll be our little secret” she said without me saying a word. “That’s settled.”
“Now, your turn” she said, passing be the red ball. Remember, you start with onesies.
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