Summer of 1955
By: Martha L. Thurston
Summer of 1955 ©2013 by Martha L. Thurston, All Rights Reserved.
For my dad, whose endless childhood stories always inspired me to dream up some of my own.
~1~
If I had my opinion in the matter, I would have to say that the hottest summer we ever had was in the Summer of 1955. Before school had even let out in May, the temperature had already started to climb. I spent a lot of time at my uncle’s house helping him to plow and ready the garden for that summer. In return, he would give me a quarter and take me fishing.
Sometimes, that was the best time of my life just sitting on the bank of the lake with my uncle, our bare feet stretched out across the warm dirt. Life couldn’t get any better. Aunt Mae would always send us off with a couple of fried tater sandwiches, some pieces of fried fat back, and we would stop at the corner store for some RC colas.
When we got tired of fishing, Uncle Tom and I would find us a good shade tree and take us a nap. But we were always sure to get back home in time for dinner, knowing that Aunt Mae would have something good to eat for us when we go there.
I spent a lot of time at Aunt Mae and Uncle Tom’s house. Much more than my younger brothers and sister. But then again, I was a lot older and could help with the chores that needed to be done in the garden. I also liked to stay there because I didn’t have to worry about getting a switch across my bare legs whenever my siblings would do something stupid.
I always hated them switchin’s more than anything. I tried to avoid them, but they always seemed to come when you least expected it. Like the time my brother Kevin got into a fight and came home with a bloody nose.
“Charles Hagood, how many times have I told you, you look after your brother?” my dad, Robert, would say. “Look at him.” He would point at Kevin sitting in the corner, my mother Ruth standing over him, holding his head back and applying a cold, we washcloth to his bloody nose.
“It ain’t my fault he can’t fight,” I cringed the moment those words came flying out of my mouth knowing good and well what it meant.
“I’ve told you a hundred times, Charles. A hundred times, blood is thicker than water. You take up for your little brother.” Now his finger was no longer pointing at Kevin, but at me, and I knew what was coming next. “Go get me a switch, boy, and it had better be a good sturdy one. If it ain’t, I’ll go bring myself back a tree, and I’ll tan your hide with it!”
“I can’t help it if Kevin goes and starts fights with the older boys.” Lord, why can’t I keep my mouth shut!
“What did you say?” My dad stood over me, his eyes burning with an intensity I’d never seen before.
“I’ll go get that switch,” I said stepping around him. I caught a glimpse of Kevin smiling at me from ear to ear. I muttered under my breat as I walked past him to the door, “I swear I think he does that on purpose just to see me get whipped.”
I walked around outside looking on each bush for an appropriate switch, checking each one. I had only come back once with an unacceptable switch and that was the last time. I’d gladly take a switch than a stick or belt any old day. At least the switch just stung for a short while. Those others left bruises that ached for days.
I found a limb about quarter inch in diameter and took out my pocket knife to cut it off. The knife was a birthday present from my uncle last year. It was a nice stainless steel with brass inlay. Nice compared to those down at the “5 and dime.” He said when he gave it to me that he was goig to teach me how to carve and whittle with it.
Right now, the only carving I was doing was taking the leaves off the switch. I angled my knife and slid it down the branch, stripping the leaves off as I went. The leaves caused the switch to drag through the air as you were whipped, so they had to be removed. You didn’t get a good enough whipping when the leaves slowed the swing down. Besides, I think my dad rather enjyoyed the nice snap a clean switch made as it quickly hit your bottom.
Of course, I got those switches often, so the way I figured, my dad must be one of the happiest dad’s on earth. That was mostly due to the fact that Kevin was constantly getting into fights, or stealing. Whatever it was that he did, I had to take the blame, because as my dad said, “It’s your responsibility to look after your brother. If you’d keep a better eye on him, he wouldn’t get into nonsense, and you wouldn’t have to get spanked.”
If I didn’t have Uncle Tom and Aunt Mae’s to go to, I believe school was better than home. But it didn’t compare to hanging out with my best buds. There was Gary Nelson who was fifteen and driving. He had been held back and instead of being in high school, he was still stuck back in middle school with us.
We liked him because he was cool, but mostly because he was the only eighth grader who could actually drive himself to school. That is, if his dad would let him. So he didn’t really get to drive to school much but he had lots of stories abut what happened or what he did while driving.
I think a lot of it was just a bunch of bull. He was always hanging out with us, so I don’t know when he found the time to do all that driving and stunts he claimed he did, but he swore it was all true.
Then there was Stubby. His real name was Steve Matthews, but we all called him Stubby because he was a little short for his age, which was fourteen just like me. Gary and I let him hang around us, because no one else would. They all picked on him because after his mom died when he was ten, his dad became the town drunk.
Stubby was really shy when he was around others and one day when some kids were ragging on him about his dad, Gary and I jumped ‘em. After that, we started to look after Stubby and everyone knew not to pick on him anymore, or they would have to deal with us. He was shy at first, but soon, he would out talk me and Gary. Some days, he wouldn’t say anything at all.
We assumed that those were the days when his dad had come home late drinking again, and we just kind of gave him some space. Stubby wasn’t much fun on those days.
I guess it was a good thing that we had plenty of other things to get into. School was about out and there would be watermelons to raid from Mr. O’dell’s garden and swimming down at the river. The raid at Mr. O’dell’s had become a yearly tradition. When the watermelons were nice and ripe, we would sneak down there and snatch a great big juicy one.
We were all excited at the beginning of the Summer of 1955, little did we know, it was the summer that would change each of our lives and we would see one another in a whole new light.
~2~
The last day of the school year was always the longest. From the time the school bell rung that morning, to the one in the afternoon dismissing us, we eagerly waited on the edge of our seats. Every year we would joke about skipping school that last day, but none of us really dared to. It was rumored that Principal Garrett had stationed a truant officer in his office to seek out students who ditched school on the last day, and purposely had them held back.
We didn’t really believe it, but just in case, we decided to show up for the last day anyhow. When the bell rang that morning, Gary and I were seated in our seats before it had the chance to stop. We high fived each other for beating the rush and turned to high five Stubby and noticed that his seat was empty.
It wasn’t like Stubby to be tardy for school. His dad would drop him off before the school even opened so that he could go down to the mule lot and pick him up a pint of liquor before heading home. It didn’t matter what day of the week it was, Grady was always sitting out there selling liquor to anyone who would produce a five spot, underage or not.
Gary and I just looked down at Stub’s empty seat. Ms. Peterson would be walking in at any moment and Stubby would have to endure eighth grade all over again. Gary leaned over and said, “Give me some of your books.”
“Why? What’re you gonna do?” I asked, trying to keep one eye on the doorway and one on Gary.
“Just give me a few of your books and follow my lead,” Gary said, taking the books I hesitantly slid over to him and placing them on Stubby’s desk.
“Good morning, class. Are we ready for summer?” Ms. Peterson said as she walked intot he classroom, closing the door behond her. She placed her purse down on the desk with a slight thump and reached immediately into her drawer for her roll sheet. “Good, it looks as though everyone is present and…” her voice trailed off as she noticed Stubby’s desk stacked with books, but with and empty chair. “Has any one seen Mr. Matthews this morning?”
Gary shot his hand up quickly into the air, looking around to see if anyone else was goig to deny him the opportunity to lie to Ms. Peterson.
“Yes, Mr. Nelson,” Ms. Peterson pointed to him.
“Ms. Peterson, Stubby’s here, but he wasn’t feeling well, so he went to the john,” Gary said amidst giggles from the other classmates.
“Mr. Nelson?”
“Yes, Ms. Peterson,” Gary said, a smile beginning to curl up at the edges of his lips.
“I would prefer it if you kept the slang out of the classroom. You are to refer to your classmate by either his Christian name of Steve, his full name, or by his last. Never by some name you or your classmates have given him. And it is a restroom or lavatory.”
“Yes, Ms. Peterson.” Gary gave her a smile, which appeared to be more of a smirk. Then he added, as though he could not contain it anymore, “I just thought you wanted to know he was in the crapper.”
Ms. Peterson’s mouth flew open and a red glow began to spread up her face, starting at the neck. She brought a hand up to her mouth, pressing her finger tips slightly to her lips. Then, in one swift moment she walked back to the back of the classroom where we were sitting, grabbed hold of Gary by the ear and proceeded to drag him out into the hallway. “Class, please sit quietly while I escort Mr. Nelson to Mr. Garrett’s office.” Ms. Peterson said as she twisted Gary’s ear, who wailed, “Oww-oww!”
The door slammed behind them with a loud thud and you could hear the soles of Ms. Peterson’s high heeled shoes making a click click noise on the tiled floor of the hall. As soon as she was out of earshot, the class began to stir with a roar of whispers that sounded like waves sweeping across a shore.
I sat there listening to the other students snickering about Gary’s unruly behavior. “Hey, Charles, where’s your buddies now? They all ditch you here on the last day of school?” someone in the back sneered. Sure they would say that now when Gary wasn’t around to intimidate him. They knew that he wouldn’t put up with their mouth. Me? I took too much according to Gary.
“You have to stand up for yourself, Charles. Otherwise everyone is goig to walk all over you for the rest of your life,” Gary would scold him.
It was a lecture I had gotten too often from my dad. The kids at school would tease, but at least I knew where I stood. With my dad, everytime I tried to stand up for myself, I would find myself on the wrong end of a switch. Maybe I was going about it all wrong?
The door to the classroom slung open and a hushed silence washed over the room. I looked up and saw Stubby walking toward his desk. “Where’s everyone at?” Stubby asked.
“Gary tried to cover for ya,” I replied.
“Principal’s office,” Stubby asked.
“Yep.” I smiled at him as I removed out books from his desk.
“So, what did he say?” Stubby asked with a smile.
“Let’s see… he told her you were in the john, then when she corrected his grammar, he said, ‘Gee, I just thought you’d want to know he was in the crapper.’” I laughed, then as Ms. Peterson was walking back in, I lowered my voice, “Glad you could make it Stubs.”
Ms. Peterson walked in to the classroom with Gary slinking in behind her, both hands shoved deep down into his pockets. He didn’t say a word, but smiled at us as he walked past to his seat. Ms. Peterson took a moment to straighten her dress and smooth the loosened strands of blode hair back into the itght bun she usually wore. She looked back at Stubby and smiled. “Mr. Matthews, are you feeling much better?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.
“Good,” she said then turned to write on the blackboard.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gary mimicked in a girly voice, then leaned over and said, “Suck up,” as he slapped Stubby across the back.
Stubby jumped up from his desk so fast that the desk fell over with a loud crash and he grabbed Gary by the throat. “Don’t you ever touch me again,” he yelled, tears falling down his face.
“O-kay,” Gary wheezed, gasping for air.
Ms. Peterson ran to the back of the room and tried to pry Stubby’s hands from Gary’s throat. As she got him loose, he bolted for the door and was gone. Gary was laid out on the floor, his hands rubbing the welts that had formed around it. “Are you alright,” Ms. Peterson asked. “Charles?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, looking at Gary who was still struggling for air.
“Will you please go down to the nurse’s station and have Nurse Betty come to the classroom?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I ran out of the room and down the hall. My shoes skidded across the tiled floor with a deafening squeak as I rounded the corner, my arms and legs flailing about wildly. When I reached the nurses station I flung open the door so fast that the papers on a nearby filing cabinet got sucked up into the rush of air and floated off onto the floor.
“Young man, just what kind of excuse do you have for coming in here like that?” Nurse Betty asked as she jumped up from her desk and began to pick up the scattered sheets of paper.
I could hardly breathe from sprinting that far and I leaned over trying to catch my breath, my throat dry and scratchy as I sucked the air down into my lungs. “Ms. P…” I tried to speak, “Ms. Peterson.” The air coming into my lungs burned with each breath I took. I wondered if that was how Gary felt right now. “Ms. Peterson, room 322, needs you. Student on floor can’t breathe.”
“Oh, my!” the nurse exclaimed. “You sit down right there and catch your breath, take a sip of water, and then go back to class.” She gathered up a small black bag and walked out the door, the stethoscope around her neck swinging back and forth.
I grabbed a cup and poured myself some water, sipping it very slow. I didn’t really want to go back to class, not knowing what I would see. With Stubby freaking out and now Gary not being able to get a breath, that left me. I felat a little bitter about it at first, but then, thought that it wouldn’t be that hard to get through the day without them. After all, I had done it without them before.
I started to stand up and felt a catch in my side. Must have been from the running I did, but it was painful enough to take me down to my knees.
“Are you alright?” a sweet soft voice asked. I looked up and immediately recognized the smiling face looking down at me. It was Miss Elizabeth Beaufort, the most beautiful woman in the whole school and the school’s secretary. She was the one thing that I was truly going to miss about middle school. The guys all teased me about being in love with Miss Beaufort, but all I could do was agree.
“Hi,” I smiled and tried to stand straight once more before the catch in my side pulled me down once more.
“You don’t look okay. Does Nurse Betty know you are here?”
“Yes, but she had to go and help a student.” I winced once more as the catch pulled the muscles all the way up into my ribcage. “I just think I ran too fast down here.”
“You don’t look alright. Why don’t I call your parents and have them take you home? Come with me.”
I nodded and followed along behind her, hunched over somewhat from the pain. When we reached the office, I sat down and watched as she dialed the number.
Please don’t be home, I thought to myself. I wanted her to drive me home like she had before when I had gotten sick at school. I think that may have been the first day I fell in love with her. I stared at her, her long brown hair sitting in soft curls around her angelic face and those big brown eyes that smiled down at me. Yep, that was a beautiful day indeed!
The door to the office opened up and I saw Nurse Betty escorting Gary into the office. “Miss Beaufort, would you please drive Mr. Nelson here home. His parents are at work, but they said that he would be alright at home. He’s a little shooken up about what happened.” The nurse stared at me then pointed in my direction as she said, “What’s wrong with that one?”
“He was in your office and complaining about having pain in his stomach,” Miss Beaufort replied.
The nurse walked over and pulled me up out of the chair. The stitch in my said had actually subsided, but I hunched back over and moaned anyhow. “There’s nothing wrong with him, send him back to class.” She turned and said to Miss Beaufort.
“Bleeeeecccckkkkk!”
“Are you sure about that, Betty?” Miss Beaufort pointed at Nurse Betty’s shoes.
The nurse looked down at her feet and shook the vomit that had landed on her white shoes and stockings. The vomit had puddled perfectly around her. I sat back down and wiped the vomit from my mouth. The nurse looked over at me and then said, “Send him home!” She cut an icy stare around at me, but I remained solemn, not flinching in the least as she walked out of the office.
“I couldn’t reach anyone at your house, Charles. If I drive you home, will you be okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I blushed. I was hoping she was going to say that. Deep down, the inner me was jumping up and down screaming, “Hallelujah!”
Gary, who had been sitting there quietly, his neck wrapped in white gauze, must have sensed my joy, because he leaned over and whispered, “Down, boy.”
What had started out to be a dreaded last day of school was beginning to be very promising. I got to go home early, no one was at home, and I was going to be chauffeured home by the beautiful Miss Elizabeth Beaufort. I didn’t even mind that I would be sharing the ride home with Gary.
And what was up with Stubby? I’d never seen him freak out like that before! Perhaps I would see him later and be able to ask, but for right now, I was going to enjoy the ride home.