# Growing away



## yikes (Jan 23, 2011)

âBoy, someday Iâm gonna hit you so hard your eyes are gonna jiggle,â I said silently to myself after my big brother hit me in the chest to get me to wake up, just as he did every morning. I am sure my little brother felt the same way as he got hit also. From my eyes Dick was being mean about it even though mom had given him the task after we were too slow about getting up and moving in the mornings and of course thatâs why we couldnât complain about the sore chest to mom. But it just didnât seem fair to have to wake up every day with a sore chest. I guess it never occurred to me to wake up when I heard mom calling us to get up. Lots of things never occurred to me. It was only in old age that I finally figured out that if you are smart all these things do occur to you; so I was able to go through an entire life being blissfully ignorant of just how stupid I was, that as I walked away from anyone their lips were forming the word âdumbassâ.

But for now I had to get out of bed, get dressed and it was my day to empty the slop jar that we three boys used during the night and mornings; and it had to be out of the house pretty darn quick or granma wouldnât let us have it in the house, like she did last winter. Now that was tough, having to go all the way down the concrete pathway to the outhouse just to take a leak, but then going down in the mornings to take a sit-down when the icicles hung off the roof was even tougher, especially if we had used up all the normal paper from the Sears catalog and all we had left were the hard glossy pages. Ye-ouch. After I got back I was able to squeeze in close to the coal stove where everyone was huddled. Uncle Ed and Uncle Paul always stood in the same spot and so did granpa. Mom was always getting ready for work and Granma was fixing some kind of breakfast and then fixing something for us kids to eat for lunch, which we ate either in the principalâs office or on the stairs leading to his office. I guess mom worked it out with him to allow us to eat there, no other kids did which kinda made us special or at least thatâs how I tried to think about it. Not having a dad, mom working all the time and us living too far away to be able to run home, eat and run back would have been a more accurate way of thinking about it, but like I said some things just did not occur to me.

We walked through the neighborâs back field to the alley to get to Gallatin Street, then one block over to Boots Street then another block over to Washington Street and then 5 blocks to the school. And yes, in different parts, it was uphill both ways. We had to hurry because Dick was a crossing guard and had to be early to get his white guard strap and his long cane pole with the red flag on the end. It was really something special to be the brother of a crossing guard, some kind of honor. I looked up to my big brother for lots of reasons, but mainly because he was big. And when he hit, it hurt, not like when my friends and I would fight. When they hit it didnât hurt, just made me determined to hit back harder. But Dick could take the wind and the fight right out of me.

None of my friends could play with Dick, he was just too much of a grown up. Always telling us what we couldnât do and why what we were thinking wouldnât work; that jumping off the garage with a cape wouldnât cause us to fly or that hanging from a tree limb wouldnât cause us to grow bigger. We didnât want to hear that stuff, we wanted to try it and find out for ourselves, so we did. One side of the garage was forevermore known as the landing zone.

But being early to school was really, really, really hard for me because I always needed to pee and it would be another 10 minutes before we would be allowed to go inside. I had to hop and squeeze, and wiggle and sweat, and smack my legs and pray to God and think about all sorts of things trying to forget that I HAD to pee. I was so embarrassed knowing that I was the only one that ever had this problem and that every kid there was staring at me. But I do know that I loved the principal cause he was the one that unlocked the door every morning. It did not occur to me that he was also the one that made the rule.

But today was also one of those âOh, shucksâ days. The last thread holding my sole to the upper of my shoe gave way and I now had a flapper slapper shoe. I had babied it for almost a week, knowing it would give way some time, but I didnât want to have to tell mom she needed to spend money one me. We never had money. Dad sent what the court told him to send since the divorce, but mom had to help pay for staying at granmaâs house, and the food and all the other stuff that never has occurred to me. So all of us boys tried never to ask or need money. And I can guarantee that there were no empty pop bottles within 8 blocks of our house. But I could put up with the flapping sole for a week until it got so floppy that it folded back. That was close to the end of it; when it was that floppy it would quickly get so weak that it would tear off and leave me crying about the unfairness of life. It did not occur to me to ask for help. Children are to be seen and not heard, ya know. Speak only when spoken to and answer with yes maâam, yes sir. But the dog would listen to me (loved that old dog). Mom would eventually find out about the shoe and start crying about being a bad mom, which would cause Dick to get really mad and pound me good. And then we would go to get a pair of shoes, which were dreadfully painful, rubbing blisters on the back of my heels and bleeding into my socks, which I tried to wash out before mom saw it. But again she would find out and start crying and Dick would get mad and I would get pounded. I just couldnât figure out how to stop it. Like John Wayne said, âStupid should hurt.â It did. does.

But see, I was really good in school; top of the class good. Of course it wasnât because I was smart, no, it was because of Dick. He was two grades ahead of me and I paid attention to his homework, just because I marveled at how smart he was and how good he was at everything. So I learned his math problems with him and saw his English papers, and thatâs all it took. School was easy for me. Because I was so,o,o good in school, if I didnât understand something, it could only be because the teacher didnât explain it well, so I was never bashful about asking questions. Some liked it, some didnât. I didnât care one way or the other, they were teachers, I was a kid, two different worlds. They saw Davy Crockett, I lived it.


----------



## Big Dave (Feb 5, 2006)

OK I get it. I have those times and think on how my MOM would work two jobs to pay our way. I was Dick in our home. The memories, that is what no one can take away.


----------



## newfieannie (Dec 24, 2006)

very interesting post Yikes! i was the one doing the pounding on my sister. that girl never would learn. i also remember the slop bucket. by the time i was born dad had everything hooked up but when the same sister was first married. she lived by the ocean and she had one in her porch. i went to help her mop the floor one day and like always i was working fast. i slammed the mop into the slop bucket and over it went. course i had to clean it up. whenever we get a chance to talk now we always remember that day. ~Georgia.


----------



## yikes (Jan 23, 2011)

SOOOOOO, you guys were the pound-ers and I was one of the pound-ees. HMMMMMM. ha. Reminds me of Amos and Andy.
I guess I just wanted to write some stuff about childhood in the "old" times before "I" forgot it.
I would just bet you could write out a memory that would touch a heart or an intellect.


----------



## Travis in Louisiana (May 14, 2002)

That was LOVELY Yikes! You should write a book. How did Dick eventually turn out? Everyone should write down their memories before they are forgotten.


----------



## jwal10 (Jun 5, 2010)

My childhood was tough. Bad accident to my left foot at 6, polio at 7. Dad was mean, big brother was too, twice my size. Dad would yell all the time and tell big brother to" Just kill him". Luckily he was slow. Slept a lot in an old chicken coop that I kept booby trapped so I could sleep. Spent a lot of time alone after Grandad died when I was 12. I lost my way, camped fished and hunted. Walked everywhere. Lot of cold hungry nights crying myself to sleep. Left home at 12. Sheared sheep, Did my farming in between. Caused me to be a loner. Sweetie understands me and put up with my roaming. She has been my angel, my reality. Her love saved me from myself. The nightmares are gone but the scars are still there and painful at times....James


----------



## Travis in Louisiana (May 14, 2002)

WOW James!, You life makes mine seem like a dream, and it was. Even though my dad and mom divorced when I was five, I still had a good life. My dad raised me and my brothers. My mom raised my sister till high school, then she came and lived with us. James, you could write a book on your life. My mom is full blooded German. I was born in Berlin. My dad was in the Army. My wife thanks my dad for raising me.


----------

