Hi, Diary.
While we waited in the Oldsmobile for Dad to give Mrs. Nelson some money and sign a contract for a lake cottage next August, Doc III, Dork, and I talked about going down that tall slide.
"We’ll see," said Mother.
"Well, can we?" asked Dork.
"If your father approves," said Mother.
"Why wouldn’t he?” inquired Doc III.
"It’s cold. We'll see is what I said. It's up to your father."
I kept my mouth shut. As I've told you a hundred times, Diary, Gordon Bartholomew Hoffman is no fool although I, too, wanted to go down that slide in the worst sort of way.
Finally, Dad came out and we asked him almost together, "Can we go swimming, huh, can we?"
Dad eyeballed us, looking awfully serious. Then, he smiled. "Of course you can."
"Yaaay."
"I'm not going," vowed Crazy Annie.
"You can't," Dad told her. "You're too young to go in a lake. They have no Kiddie pool for you."
Since there was no "Change Room" like our Lake Wazeecha has, we used the men's bathroom in order to change from our clothes into our swimming suits. It didn't take us long to show our parents it wasn't too cold to go swimming although we were constantly shivering.
So, we waited around because Dad was talking to a man while Mother listened intently.
"Kids," said Dad, "this is Mister Shegonee. (She-GO-nee) He's a patient of mine. Mr. Shegonee's a Winnebago Indian."
"Hi, Mr. Shegonee," we three boys said together.
Dad continued, "He works at the paper mill now but was a real war hero and earned the Silver Star for bravery on Iwo Jima."
"Wow," we exclaimed.
"Aw, shucks, Doc. Don't let those kids think I'm some kind of hero. I only did what anyone else would've done."
Dad continued. "Mr. Shegonee mustered out of the Marine Corps as Sergeant Shegonee."
"Wow, a Marine sergeant," I repeated.
The war hero reached out with his right hand, offering to shake each of our hands. He held on tightly to mine and said, "I'm happy to meet you fellas. You look like real warriors."
"Warriors?" I stuck out my chest. "Like you?" I asked.
"Better than me," he said, laughing.
Finally, Doc III said, "Let's go swimming."
"Yes, let's," agreed Dork.
"I'm ready," I said, adding, "Let's race."
Doc III was first. Dork was second. And guess who was last to reach the water? "How's the water?" Dork asked a boy already in the lake.
"Wet," the kid answered.
"Smart ass," whispered Dork. I kind of laughed.
It wasn't so cold once you stayed in the water for a while. That's the way it always is. The slide was out a way on a wood raft with a pipe on each corner that was jammed into the lake's bottom that was sand and gravel. The pipes held the raft in place. Whenever a kid went down the slide, he got back up on the raft and pumped a water pump handle under the slide. The pump was just like the one Ann Ashley has beside her little farm house in Arpin.
The first time I climbed the ladder to the slide's top, I was kind of scared. Actually, Diary, I was scared to death, but I wouldn't admit that to anyone other than to you. I shivered all the way up.
It turned out to be great fun. A stream of water pushed out of a hole on the top of the slide as the kid below jerked the pump handle up and down. The water made the slide slippery.
When I went down, I screamed with fear and joy. Cannonballing into the lake, I was soon on the raft, taking my turn at the pump.
The second time I went up the ladder I was only a little bit scared, but from then on, I wasn't scared at all. I went down that slide at least twenty times before Doc III said, "We'd better go back, or the old man will get pissed."
"I agree," said Dork.
"Well, I guess," I said, really not wanting to go back.
There was a hole in the back of my swimming suit because I went down that slide so many times. I didn't want people to see it. Although I am different from the other Hoffmans, I'd really feel different from the rest of the world if someone not in our family saw that hole.
While we waited in the Oldsmobile for Dad to give Mrs. Nelson some money and sign a contract for a lake cottage next August, Doc III, Dork, and I talked about going down that tall slide.
"We’ll see," said Mother.
"Well, can we?" asked Dork.
"If your father approves," said Mother.
"Why wouldn’t he?” inquired Doc III.
"It’s cold. We'll see is what I said. It's up to your father."
I kept my mouth shut. As I've told you a hundred times, Diary, Gordon Bartholomew Hoffman is no fool although I, too, wanted to go down that slide in the worst sort of way.
Finally, Dad came out and we asked him almost together, "Can we go swimming, huh, can we?"
Dad eyeballed us, looking awfully serious. Then, he smiled. "Of course you can."
"Yaaay."
"I'm not going," vowed Crazy Annie.
"You can't," Dad told her. "You're too young to go in a lake. They have no Kiddie pool for you."
Since there was no "Change Room" like our Lake Wazeecha has, we used the men's bathroom in order to change from our clothes into our swimming suits. It didn't take us long to show our parents it wasn't too cold to go swimming although we were constantly shivering.
So, we waited around because Dad was talking to a man while Mother listened intently.
"Kids," said Dad, "this is Mister Shegonee. (She-GO-nee) He's a patient of mine. Mr. Shegonee's a Winnebago Indian."
"Hi, Mr. Shegonee," we three boys said together.
Dad continued, "He works at the paper mill now but was a real war hero and earned the Silver Star for bravery on Iwo Jima."
"Wow," we exclaimed.
"Aw, shucks, Doc. Don't let those kids think I'm some kind of hero. I only did what anyone else would've done."
Dad continued. "Mr. Shegonee mustered out of the Marine Corps as Sergeant Shegonee."
"Wow, a Marine sergeant," I repeated.
The war hero reached out with his right hand, offering to shake each of our hands. He held on tightly to mine and said, "I'm happy to meet you fellas. You look like real warriors."
"Warriors?" I stuck out my chest. "Like you?" I asked.
"Better than me," he said, laughing.
Finally, Doc III said, "Let's go swimming."
"Yes, let's," agreed Dork.
"I'm ready," I said, adding, "Let's race."
Doc III was first. Dork was second. And guess who was last to reach the water? "How's the water?" Dork asked a boy already in the lake.
"Wet," the kid answered.
"Smart ass," whispered Dork. I kind of laughed.
It wasn't so cold once you stayed in the water for a while. That's the way it always is. The slide was out a way on a wood raft with a pipe on each corner that was jammed into the lake's bottom that was sand and gravel. The pipes held the raft in place. Whenever a kid went down the slide, he got back up on the raft and pumped a water pump handle under the slide. The pump was just like the one Ann Ashley has beside her little farm house in Arpin.
The first time I climbed the ladder to the slide's top, I was kind of scared. Actually, Diary, I was scared to death, but I wouldn't admit that to anyone other than to you. I shivered all the way up.
It turned out to be great fun. A stream of water pushed out of a hole on the top of the slide as the kid below jerked the pump handle up and down. The water made the slide slippery.
When I went down, I screamed with fear and joy. Cannonballing into the lake, I was soon on the raft, taking my turn at the pump.
The second time I went up the ladder I was only a little bit scared, but from then on, I wasn't scared at all. I went down that slide at least twenty times before Doc III said, "We'd better go back, or the old man will get pissed."
"I agree," said Dork.
"Well, I guess," I said, really not wanting to go back.
There was a hole in the back of my swimming suit because I went down that slide so many times. I didn't want people to see it. Although I am different from the other Hoffmans, I'd really feel different from the rest of the world if someone not in our family saw that hole.