Karen Klinkenbeard and I don't sit next to each other at the Saturday matinees while my buddies who sat behind us made fun of me. True, Karen and I paid for our own tickets and we met inside the theater, but she expected me to share my popcorn and candy with her. Thing is, Diary, we became friends after I wrote a letter of apology to her and her parents plus the school principal because I called Karen "Marble Bags."
Here's what happened. Last year in fifth grade, Lee Anunson, Jimmy Lokken, Roger Aton, Tim Lattimore, Billy Schroeder, and I got together at afternoon recess, and instead of playing tag football, we waited for Lee's latest "gem," most likely his latest dirty joke he heard from his older brother Bibs. "So," he said in a near whisper, his eyes searching outside our group, "have you guys noticed Klinkenbeard's boobs?" I had earlier seen Karen, playing catch with a group of girls.
"You're right," said Tim. "That's a training bra she's wearing. My sister used to wear one."
"What does a training bra train?" asked Billy.
"You idiot. It trains those pipsqueaks to grow to the size of ripe muskmelons," said Lee.
We laughed except for Roger and Billy. "Those aren't boobs," said Roger.
"Then, what are they?" Lee seemed a tad upset.
"Large nipples."
"They're boobs."
"I agree with Roger," said Billy. "They're boobies, not boobs." He defended Roger all the time. They're best friends.
Lee snorted. "Just what in the hell are boobies, you boob?" Everyone laughed except Roger and Billy. Lee is sooooooo funny.
"They're boobs you can hardly see," said Billy.
"You can see hers," said Tim. "That's more than you can say for most of the girls in our class."
"Marble bags," said Lee. "They're the size of marble bags."
"Marble Bags," we shouted and laughed.
"That's her name from now on, eh?" said Lee. Karen smiled whenever we called her that name, but not for long because other girls told her on Friday afternoon what the name referred to. The following entire week, Karen wasn't in class. On the second day of her absence, Miss Leverence was colder than the water surrounding the iceberg that sank the Titanic. She never smiled once. Before the last bell rang, she announced, "Misters Anunson, Hoffman, Schroeder, Lokken, Aton, and Lattimore shall remain in this room after the last bell. There shall be no excuses for not being here. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Miss Leverence," we said almost together. After the last bell rang, the room was emptied except for the condemned six. Even Miss Leverence abandoned the room. I fidgeted. Mounting the stairs to the gallows would be a reward compared to this, I thought.
"Let's go," said Lee.
"Didn't you hear Miss Leverence?"
"I heard, but she isn't here. She probably forgot."
"I don't think so," said Billy. "Marble Bags wasn't in class yesterday and today, and look at which students have to stay after?"
"Us," said Roger.
"We," I corrected.
"Hoffman, did you know you're a pain in the ass?" said a teed-off Roger.
"I'll betcha Miss Leverence is calling the cops," Tim surmised. (Thank you, Readers Digest Word Power page).
We kept waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more. "Maybe she did forget," I said.
Finally, Miss Leverence entered the room. "Spread out. You may not sit next to each other." We hurriedly did so in a second and one-half. "Each of you has hurt—I mean literally wounded—dear Karen Klinkenbeard by taunting her. She is physically ill and sick in bed, according to her mother who telephoned the school principal. "You," she said and glared at lee. It seemed like a half hour later but wasn't, and she turned to glare at me and announced, "And you." My eyes sought the desktop. Turning to scowl at Tim, she said, "And you. Shame on you, Timothy Lattimore." And you." She glowered at Roger. "You, also." She focused on Billy. "And you, Mister Lokken, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I have telephoned each of your homes and told the person who answered what you had done, and that you shall not be home at the usual time." Miss Leverence handed out blank, blue-lined pieces of paper. "You shall write two separate letters of apology. The first is to Karen and her parents, and the second shall be to our school principal."
We were smart enough to keep our mouths shut except for Billy, who raised his hand.
"Yes, Mister Schroeder?"
"Miss Leverence, it's getting dark, and my mother serves supper after it gets dark plus my dog, Queenie, is waiting for me."
"Yes, it is getting a bit darker," said Miss Leverence, peering out of a classroom window, "but I spoke with your mother. She said she shall serve dinner at the usual time. Your sister, Sally, and your parents will eat, but you won't until all of you finish your letters that meet my satisfaction. Your dog will have to wait."
I didn't get home until ten minutes after seven. Roger’s such a slowpoke at writing.
Guess who answered our phone when Miss Leverence called? William, the Terrible, of course. He snickered as both parents shouted at me. I didn't get to eat supper plus I had to go to bed right away.
A few weeks later, I told Karen I was sorry. She smiled, and that's when we became boyfriend and girlfriend. This school year, she has a new boyfriend who attends school on the other side of the river. I now sit next to my buddies at the matinees and don't have to share either candy or popcorn with them. Who needs girls, anyway? There are times, Diary, and I'll only admit it to you, I do miss sitting with Karen and talking to her.
Here's what happened. Last year in fifth grade, Lee Anunson, Jimmy Lokken, Roger Aton, Tim Lattimore, Billy Schroeder, and I got together at afternoon recess, and instead of playing tag football, we waited for Lee's latest "gem," most likely his latest dirty joke he heard from his older brother Bibs. "So," he said in a near whisper, his eyes searching outside our group, "have you guys noticed Klinkenbeard's boobs?" I had earlier seen Karen, playing catch with a group of girls.
"You're right," said Tim. "That's a training bra she's wearing. My sister used to wear one."
"What does a training bra train?" asked Billy.
"You idiot. It trains those pipsqueaks to grow to the size of ripe muskmelons," said Lee.
We laughed except for Roger and Billy. "Those aren't boobs," said Roger.
"Then, what are they?" Lee seemed a tad upset.
"Large nipples."
"They're boobs."
"I agree with Roger," said Billy. "They're boobies, not boobs." He defended Roger all the time. They're best friends.
Lee snorted. "Just what in the hell are boobies, you boob?" Everyone laughed except Roger and Billy. Lee is sooooooo funny.
"They're boobs you can hardly see," said Billy.
"You can see hers," said Tim. "That's more than you can say for most of the girls in our class."
"Marble bags," said Lee. "They're the size of marble bags."
"Marble Bags," we shouted and laughed.
"That's her name from now on, eh?" said Lee. Karen smiled whenever we called her that name, but not for long because other girls told her on Friday afternoon what the name referred to. The following entire week, Karen wasn't in class. On the second day of her absence, Miss Leverence was colder than the water surrounding the iceberg that sank the Titanic. She never smiled once. Before the last bell rang, she announced, "Misters Anunson, Hoffman, Schroeder, Lokken, Aton, and Lattimore shall remain in this room after the last bell. There shall be no excuses for not being here. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Miss Leverence," we said almost together. After the last bell rang, the room was emptied except for the condemned six. Even Miss Leverence abandoned the room. I fidgeted. Mounting the stairs to the gallows would be a reward compared to this, I thought.
"Let's go," said Lee.
"Didn't you hear Miss Leverence?"
"I heard, but she isn't here. She probably forgot."
"I don't think so," said Billy. "Marble Bags wasn't in class yesterday and today, and look at which students have to stay after?"
"Us," said Roger.
"We," I corrected.
"Hoffman, did you know you're a pain in the ass?" said a teed-off Roger.
"I'll betcha Miss Leverence is calling the cops," Tim surmised. (Thank you, Readers Digest Word Power page).
We kept waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more. "Maybe she did forget," I said.
Finally, Miss Leverence entered the room. "Spread out. You may not sit next to each other." We hurriedly did so in a second and one-half. "Each of you has hurt—I mean literally wounded—dear Karen Klinkenbeard by taunting her. She is physically ill and sick in bed, according to her mother who telephoned the school principal. "You," she said and glared at lee. It seemed like a half hour later but wasn't, and she turned to glare at me and announced, "And you." My eyes sought the desktop. Turning to scowl at Tim, she said, "And you. Shame on you, Timothy Lattimore." And you." She glowered at Roger. "You, also." She focused on Billy. "And you, Mister Lokken, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I have telephoned each of your homes and told the person who answered what you had done, and that you shall not be home at the usual time." Miss Leverence handed out blank, blue-lined pieces of paper. "You shall write two separate letters of apology. The first is to Karen and her parents, and the second shall be to our school principal."
We were smart enough to keep our mouths shut except for Billy, who raised his hand.
"Yes, Mister Schroeder?"
"Miss Leverence, it's getting dark, and my mother serves supper after it gets dark plus my dog, Queenie, is waiting for me."
"Yes, it is getting a bit darker," said Miss Leverence, peering out of a classroom window, "but I spoke with your mother. She said she shall serve dinner at the usual time. Your sister, Sally, and your parents will eat, but you won't until all of you finish your letters that meet my satisfaction. Your dog will have to wait."
I didn't get home until ten minutes after seven. Roger’s such a slowpoke at writing.
Guess who answered our phone when Miss Leverence called? William, the Terrible, of course. He snickered as both parents shouted at me. I didn't get to eat supper plus I had to go to bed right away.
A few weeks later, I told Karen I was sorry. She smiled, and that's when we became boyfriend and girlfriend. This school year, she has a new boyfriend who attends school on the other side of the river. I now sit next to my buddies at the matinees and don't have to share either candy or popcorn with them. Who needs girls, anyway? There are times, Diary, and I'll only admit it to you, I do miss sitting with Karen and talking to her.
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