Finished with summer school classes at SS. Peter and Paul grade school, Crazy Annie and I turned the corner by Mrs. Hahn's place. That's when I saw Bill K. and Dick B. make their way down our front porch steps. They were jabbering with Mother as she held the porch door open. I wondered why the men were there. "Hi, Bill," I called out.
Bill K. jerked, saw me, smiled. "Hi there, Kiddo." Dick B. didn't say anything, as usual. He's the silent type.
"Is something the matter?" I asked Bill K, who turned to face Mother, who gave Bill a look that meant something, which I didn't understand, but he did. He turned, once again, to face me. "Uh, no," he said, "everything's copacetic."
"What does that mean?"
"It means everything's fine and dandy."
"Never heard that word before. I like words." Because Mother still had the door open, I could see all the way through the parlor and dining room and into the kitchen where Dad sat at the kitchen table, his head bowed. Even from where I stood, I could see his hands shake like leaves in a windstorm. Dad lifted a coffee cup to his lips. Or was it a whiskey cup? "Are you sure everything's copa—"
"Now, Gordon," warned Mother, "I don't want you bothering Mister K."
"I wasn't. I was just asking him a question."
She shook her head real hard. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, you're bothering the poor man."
For the umpteenth time, Bill K. turned from me to look at Mother. "Oh, no, Mrs. Hoffman, this curly-hair, freckle-face, all-American boy, doesn't bother me at all." He laid a hand on my left shoulder and looked directly into my eyes. "Young man, do I look like someone who'd lie to you?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Well, by golly—" He laughed and laughed some more before he could continue. "By golly, I would never lie to you, Son. Thing is, your dad had quite a fall the other day, and he's been in a lot of pain."
Oh, oh. Suddenly, I needed to pee. Real bad. I wondered if Dad had said anything about me not standing on the ladder, so it wouldn't slip and he'd fall. I surely hoped not. I was more nervous than I've ever been, Diary.
After Bill K. and Dick B. left, I didn't make a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich for lunch as I had earlier planned. Instead, I ran across the street to see if Johnny Nelson was home. He was. He opened the back door of his house. Chewing with his mouth open, (yuk) he held a couple of chocolate chip cookies in one hand. He pushed them at me. Want one?"
"No. Have you told anyone about what happened with my dad and the ladder?"
"Yeah, I told my dad. Wanna cookie?"
Sometimes, Johnny just doesn't pay attention to what I say. "I said no. You told Byron, huh?"
"That's what I said."
"What did he say?"
"What did who say?"
"Your dad, Byron."
"Oh, that. He told me to keep my mouth shut about what happened."
"And?"
"And I've kept my mouth shut." Johnny kept on munching a cookie with his mouth open. Yuk.
"Johnny, you can never tell anyone what happened. Ever."
"I told you I wouldn't. Besides, I only told Dad. That's all."
"That's not good enough. You'll have to take an oath as my blood brother, so I'll know for certain you'll never tell anyone else."
"But we ain't Indians."
"Aren't."
"What?"
"You should've said aren’t."
"That's why I was held back in fifth grade."
"What're you talking about?"
"You remember. I didn't know how to talk proper like. You did. That's why you're going into the seventh grade, and I'm only going in the sixth, but we started out as kiddy gardeners together."
"Well, anyway, we don't have to be Indians to be blood brothers." I reached into my pocket and brought out my jackknife. I opened the main blade.
"What're you going to do?"
"I'm going to cut here," I said, pointing to the upper, inner part of my right thumb. "You'll have to do the same thing with your right thumb, that is, after you're finished with that last cookie. After that, we'll grab hands, press our thumbs together real hard, and that way, we'll become blood brothers forever."
After I made the puncture cut with the blade's tip and he could see the trickle of blood, Johnny said, "Geez, you actually did it. How do you know all this stuff about blood brothers?"
"Saw it in a cowboy and Indian movie."
"That's good enough for me." Thus, finished with his last chocolate chip cookie, Johnny punched a tiny hole in his right thumb. It bled.
"Okay, now grab hands," I said, "and press your thumb real hard against mine." We held on real hard and didn't let go for a long time as I explained the blood brother process to Johnny. "What's happening is your blood's going into my body and my blood's going into your body. That makes us blood brothers."
"Are we now?"
"I'm pretty sure we are." We let go. "Now, you have to swear you'll never tell anyone about what happened."
Johnny raised his right hand. "I swear." He wore a mile-wide grin. "Geez, Gordy, it isn't bleeding no more and I finally have a brother I've always wanted."
"Anymore."
"What?"
"Never mind. And you're a better brother than Doc III and Dork put together," I said, adding, "It's amazing."
"What's amazing?"
"I don't have to pee anymore."
"You didn't tell me you had to pee before," said Johnny.
"Never mind. I'm going to go and make myself a sandwich."
"But I offered you a cookie."
"I know you did. I'd rather have a sandwich."
"Guess I'll see you later, brother," said Johnny.
"That you will." I made my way across the street. I was super hungry.
Bill K. jerked, saw me, smiled. "Hi there, Kiddo." Dick B. didn't say anything, as usual. He's the silent type.
"Is something the matter?" I asked Bill K, who turned to face Mother, who gave Bill a look that meant something, which I didn't understand, but he did. He turned, once again, to face me. "Uh, no," he said, "everything's copacetic."
"What does that mean?"
"It means everything's fine and dandy."
"Never heard that word before. I like words." Because Mother still had the door open, I could see all the way through the parlor and dining room and into the kitchen where Dad sat at the kitchen table, his head bowed. Even from where I stood, I could see his hands shake like leaves in a windstorm. Dad lifted a coffee cup to his lips. Or was it a whiskey cup? "Are you sure everything's copa—"
"Now, Gordon," warned Mother, "I don't want you bothering Mister K."
"I wasn't. I was just asking him a question."
She shook her head real hard. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, you're bothering the poor man."
For the umpteenth time, Bill K. turned from me to look at Mother. "Oh, no, Mrs. Hoffman, this curly-hair, freckle-face, all-American boy, doesn't bother me at all." He laid a hand on my left shoulder and looked directly into my eyes. "Young man, do I look like someone who'd lie to you?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Well, by golly—" He laughed and laughed some more before he could continue. "By golly, I would never lie to you, Son. Thing is, your dad had quite a fall the other day, and he's been in a lot of pain."
Oh, oh. Suddenly, I needed to pee. Real bad. I wondered if Dad had said anything about me not standing on the ladder, so it wouldn't slip and he'd fall. I surely hoped not. I was more nervous than I've ever been, Diary.
After Bill K. and Dick B. left, I didn't make a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich for lunch as I had earlier planned. Instead, I ran across the street to see if Johnny Nelson was home. He was. He opened the back door of his house. Chewing with his mouth open, (yuk) he held a couple of chocolate chip cookies in one hand. He pushed them at me. Want one?"
"No. Have you told anyone about what happened with my dad and the ladder?"
"Yeah, I told my dad. Wanna cookie?"
Sometimes, Johnny just doesn't pay attention to what I say. "I said no. You told Byron, huh?"
"That's what I said."
"What did he say?"
"What did who say?"
"Your dad, Byron."
"Oh, that. He told me to keep my mouth shut about what happened."
"And?"
"And I've kept my mouth shut." Johnny kept on munching a cookie with his mouth open. Yuk.
"Johnny, you can never tell anyone what happened. Ever."
"I told you I wouldn't. Besides, I only told Dad. That's all."
"That's not good enough. You'll have to take an oath as my blood brother, so I'll know for certain you'll never tell anyone else."
"But we ain't Indians."
"Aren't."
"What?"
"You should've said aren’t."
"That's why I was held back in fifth grade."
"What're you talking about?"
"You remember. I didn't know how to talk proper like. You did. That's why you're going into the seventh grade, and I'm only going in the sixth, but we started out as kiddy gardeners together."
"Well, anyway, we don't have to be Indians to be blood brothers." I reached into my pocket and brought out my jackknife. I opened the main blade.
"What're you going to do?"
"I'm going to cut here," I said, pointing to the upper, inner part of my right thumb. "You'll have to do the same thing with your right thumb, that is, after you're finished with that last cookie. After that, we'll grab hands, press our thumbs together real hard, and that way, we'll become blood brothers forever."
After I made the puncture cut with the blade's tip and he could see the trickle of blood, Johnny said, "Geez, you actually did it. How do you know all this stuff about blood brothers?"
"Saw it in a cowboy and Indian movie."
"That's good enough for me." Thus, finished with his last chocolate chip cookie, Johnny punched a tiny hole in his right thumb. It bled.
"Okay, now grab hands," I said, "and press your thumb real hard against mine." We held on real hard and didn't let go for a long time as I explained the blood brother process to Johnny. "What's happening is your blood's going into my body and my blood's going into your body. That makes us blood brothers."
"Are we now?"
"I'm pretty sure we are." We let go. "Now, you have to swear you'll never tell anyone about what happened."
Johnny raised his right hand. "I swear." He wore a mile-wide grin. "Geez, Gordy, it isn't bleeding no more and I finally have a brother I've always wanted."
"Anymore."
"What?"
"Never mind. And you're a better brother than Doc III and Dork put together," I said, adding, "It's amazing."
"What's amazing?"
"I don't have to pee anymore."
"You didn't tell me you had to pee before," said Johnny.
"Never mind. I'm going to go and make myself a sandwich."
"But I offered you a cookie."
"I know you did. I'd rather have a sandwich."
"Guess I'll see you later, brother," said Johnny.
"That you will." I made my way across the street. I was super hungry.