All of Her

Sharon

Chapter Two

I don't know exactly when it was that I found myself with no friends.  I kind of think I never really had any to begin with. I've had plenty of play pals as a kid, but, you know how that is -- there's never much of a connection besides play stuff. One of my classes talked about how play amongst animals was a way for them to learn about hunting and bonding and stuff that they can use when they mature.  I don't know that there was any bonding with my play pals.  None to speak of, for me. 

As I got older and my thought processes moved beyond how to stack things up and then knock them down, and I found that I had less and less things to talk to other kids about...things all kind of got lost then... friends.  Or at least lost to me.

It wasn't as if I needed anyone to play with.  I didn't really.  The kind of play I did was mostly in my mind, imagining things about people, or other stuff.  Put me on a swing set at the playground and I was more apt to sit and watch the moms as they chat or read or fuss with their hair or skirts.  I was observant more than I was playful. Toy figures weren't the things of fantasy for me.  People were.  Watching others, I became very astute to people's behaviors, especially the other children's.  I found, after a while, that I was able to predict behavior, mostly with the kids.  The adults were less predictable, but what I discovered was that, in their relationship with their children, they also were wise to their kid's behavior -- knowing when they were fibbing, or hiding something, or generally holding back.  In watching the kids, I learned how to manipulate the adult reaction to my behavior.  I was able to display the face of a well behaved young boy, while inside, in my heart, I was not always so good a boy. 

I wasn't a troublemaker.  Not that anyone really complained about, at least.  I only got sent to the Principal's office once, in 3rd Grade.  I drew pictures of naked girls on the sidewalk, at the back of the school, with chalk that I nicked from Mrs. Aberdeen's classroom.  I may have been clever enough to know how to lift Glen Yarborough's Dragon Mysteries book from his desk, but obviously not clever enough to realize I was drawing naughty pictures right outside the Principal's office window. 

How I knew what a naked girl looked like was a major concern for Mother.

Mother.  Probably another good reason why I don't have friends. 

Mother.

Mother was not going to like this cover of the VAMPIRE CRIMSON comic book.  Superhero monsters. Tight superhero costume.  Superhero hair.  Superhero muscles. Superhero boobs.  I'll need to hide this one away.

Mr. Unger was bagging some back issue comics at the counter.  He had a good view of the entire shop, so shoving the comic down my pants was not going to work.  "Mr. Hunger" would bust me, for sure.  That's the name David Hummel gave Mr. Unger, on account of the fact that Mr. Unger as fat.  He thought he was the most clever person for figuring out that by adding an H, Unger made Hunger.  And Hunger made Fat.  David was of those guys who thinks it's funny to breakdown people's names into something gross or even some kind of sexual reference.  Probably a reaction to him going through Middle School being called "Hummel the Hummer."

"Hey, Dennis!"

Speaking of David Hummel.

"How's Sharon Give-more? Huh?  She givin' you more?"

David Hummel was over at the gaming tables with the other gamers.  He always laughed loudest at his own jokes, probably because no one else laughed.  I went back to flipping through the comic book stacks, waiting for his David Hummel's next comment -- he always had one extra.

"Yeah, he was all over Sharon Gilmore," he greedily told anyone who could hear. "He was like  'I love you! You're so pretty...' "  He started humping the arm of the fat kid sitting next to him.  The kid was a mountain of a kid, and not the best with hygiene.  Surprisingly quick, though.  He whipped his long hair out of his face, as he flung his fist close to David.

"I'll pound the crap out of you, Hummer!"

David laughed, excitedly.  He was a tiny guy, who just started his growth spurt, having gained a couple inches through the school year.  He was still small, but he never really shied away from the punishment of the other, bigger kids.  I think he may have just been that dumb.

The fat kid almost threatened to get out of his seat, if David didn't let go of his arm.

"Look at Hump-el!" one of the other gamers laughed. " He's gonna hump your arm right off!"

This is why I don't have friends.  To me, acting like monkeys in heat, making sure your penis is known of by everyone, isn't what I call fun.  I don't understand why these guys are like this.  The odd thing is that David Hummel is not like this in class.  He's rather quiet, and he tries real hard to be like a friend to me.  We have three classes together: Earth Science, Gym and Mythology.  Mythology is where Sharon Gilmore is, too.

I know exactly when I first noticed Sharon Gilmore, it was at the annual Fall Bazaar at James Monroe Elementary.  She was with her friends, doing the cake square.  The cake square is our town's version of a cake walk, only combined with square dance elements.  Mother had made me join the cake square, because she was always trying to get me more involved in stuff.  I hated doing pretty much anything she asked me, but when Sharon Gilmore slid her hand into mine... That was it.

The idea of the cake square was combining a cakewalk with a square dance. Two circles are formed, with the girls forming a circle insode the boy's circle (but, there were always more girls than boys, so it was always mixed up).  On the floor is a circle of numbers for the contestants to walk on.  The circles walk opposite each other, until the music stops.  Whomever is at your side is your partner.  Partners then march around until the music stops again, and a number is called, and the partners on that number split the cake.  Kind of silly... until you're holding hands with a girl.

I hadn't held hands with a girl since we played Red Rover in 3rd Grade.  And Sharon Gilmore's hand was so soft.  And she was not bashful about putting hers in mine. 

We didn't win the big cake, which was always called first.  We didn't win the next one, either.  Or any cake.  We went for seven spins around, until the big cake prizes were gone, and plates of cookies were won instead.  I could've gone for another seven spins, just to hold Sharon Gilmore's hand.

It wasn't as big a deal for her.  The cookies were, of course.  That was the prize!  However, the hand holding was just a part of the game.  Just two people playing a game with other people.  No major deal.  She smiled and gave a chherful laugh and a thank you.  "Hope you enjoy the cookies!"  And then it was over.  She went back to her friends and her fun, and I went back to Mother, the warmth of Sharon's hand still in mine.  I wouldn't let go of that feeling for a long time.

Mother saw this.

Mother wanted to leave straight away.  She was upset, and I knew why.  She could see how I looked at Sharon, as she stood by the cotton candy machine, chatting and laughing.  I'd always been adept at hiding my thoughts, but with the stirring inside me, I laid it all out there for Mother to see.  Mother was so upset that she made me leave the cookies. 

"Sinner's prize," she called it.

About half way home, I pulled the VAMPIRE CRIMSON out of my jacket.  Mr. Unger had gotten distracted after the fat kid pinned David to the gaming table, knocking all the players cards out of position.  David was in hysterics, like he was watching a stupid comedy on TV, or something.  Being beat up always seemed amusing to him, like he was being tickled, or something.

I flipped through the pages, as I walked.  Just two houses down from mine is when Sheriff Staller pulled up, and asked me to come to his cruiser...