“We gonna teach you how to survive a blizzard.”
“How?”
Byron put his hands in front of his face and said, “This is the most important thing to remember, O.K.?”
“Why?”
“Well, first we gotta show you what it feels like to be trapped in a blizzard. You ready?” He whispered something to Buphead and they both laughed.
“I’m ready.”
I should have known that the only reason Buphead and By would want to play with me was to do something mean.
“O.K.,” By said, “first thing you gotta worry about is high winds.”
Byron and Buphead each grabbed one of my arms and one of my legs and swung me between them going, “Wooo, blizzard warnings! Blizzard warnings! Wooo! Take cover!”
Buphead counted to three and on the third swing they let me go in the air. I landed headfirst in a snowbank.
But that was O.K. because I had on three coats, two sweaters, a T-shirt, three pairs of pants and four socks along with a scarf, a hat and a hood. These guys couldn’t have hurt me if they’d thrown me off the Empire State Building!
After I climbed out of the snowbank they started laughing and so did I.
“Cool, Baby Bruh,” By said, “you passed that part of the test with a B-plus, what you think, Buphead?”
Buphead said, “Yeah, I’d give the little punk a A.”
They whispered some more and started laughing again.
“O.K.,” By said, “second thing you gotta learn is how to keep your balance in a high wind. You gotta be good at this so you don’t get blowed into no polar bear dens.”
They put me in between them and started making me spin round and round, it seemed like they spun me for about half an hour. When slob started flying out of my mouth they let me stop and I wobbled around for a while before they pushed me back in the same snowbank.
When everything stopped going in circles I got up and we all laughed again.
They whispered some more and then By said, “What you think, Buphead? He kept his balance a good long time, I’m gonna give him a A-minus.”
“I ain’t as hard a grader as you, I’ma give the little punk a double A-minus.”
“O.K., Kenny, now the last part of Surviving a Blizzard, you ready?”
“Yup!”
“You passed the wind test and did real good on the balance test but now we gotta see if you ready to graduate. You remember what we told you was the most important part about survivin’?”
“Yup!”
“O.K., here we go. Buphead, tell him ’bout the final exam.”
Buphead turned me around to look at him, putting my back to Byron. “O.K., square,” he started, “I wanna make sure you ready for this one, you done so good so far I wanna make sure you don’t blow it at graduation time. You think you ready?”
I nodded, getting ready to be thrown in the snowbank real hard this time. I made up my mind I wasn’t going to cry or anything, I made up my mind that no matter how hard they threw me in that snow I was going to get up laughing.
“O.K.,” Buphead said, “everything’s cool, you ’member what your brother said about puttin’ your hands up?”
“Like this?” I covered my face with my gloves.
“Yeah, that’s it!” Buphead looked over my shoulder at Byron and then said, “Wooo! High winds, blowing snow! Wooo! Look out! Blizzard a-comin’! Death around the corner! Look out!”
Byron mumbled my name and I turned around to see why his voice sounded so funny. As soon as I looked at him Byron blasted me in the face with a mouthful of snow.
Man! It was hard to believe how much stuff By could put in his mouth! Him and Buphead just about died laughing as I stood there with snow and spit and ice dripping off of my face.
Byron caught his breath and said, “Aww, man, you flunked! You done so good, then you go and flunk the Blowin’ Snow section of How to Survive a Blizzard, you forgot to put your hands up! What you say, Buphead, F?”
“Yeah, double F-minus!”
It was a good thing my face was numb from the cold already or I might have froze to death. I was too embarrassed about getting tricked to tell on them so I went in the house and watched TV.
So as me and By scraped the ice off the Brown Bomber I wasn’t going to get fooled again. I kept on chopping ice off the back window and ignored By’s mumbling voice.
The next time I took a little rest Byron was still calling my name but sounding like he had something in his mouth. He was saying, “Keh-ee! Keh-ee! Hel’ … hel’ …!” When he started banging on the door of the car I went to take a peek at what was going on.
By was leaned over the outside mirror, looking at something in it real close. Big puffs of steam were coming out of the side of the mirror.
I picked up a big, hard chunk of ice to get ready for Byron’s trick.
“Keh-ee! Keh-ee! Hel’ me! Hel’ me! Go geh Momma! Go geh Mom-ma! Huwwy uh!”
“I’m not playing, Byron! I’m not that stupid! You’d better start doing your side of the car or I’ll tear you up with this iceball.”
He banged his hand against the car harder and started stomping his feet. “Oh, please, Keh-ee! Hel’ me, go geh Mom-ma!”
I raised the ice chunk over my head. “I’m not playing, By, you better get busy or I’m telling Dad.”
I moved closer and when I got right next to him I could see boogers running out of his nose and tears running down his cheeks. These weren’t tears from the cold either, these were big juicy crybaby tears! I dropped my ice chunk.
“By! What’s wrong?”
“Hel’ me! Keh-ee! Go geh hel’!”
I moved closer. I couldn’t believe my eyes! Byron’s mouth was frozen on the mirror! He was as stuck as a fly on flypaper!
I could have done a lot of stuff to him. If it had been me with my lips stuck on something like this he’d have tortured me for a couple of days before he got help. Not me, though, I nearly broke my neck trying to get into the house to rescue Byron.
As soon as I ran through the front door Momma, Dad and Joey all yelled, “Close that door!”
“Momma, quick! It’s By! He’s froze up outside!”
No one seemed too impressed.
I screamed, “Really! He’s froze to the car! Help! He’s crying!”
That shook them up. You could cut Byron’s head off and he probably wouldn’t cry.
“Kenneth Bernard Watson, what on earth are you talking about?”
“Momma, please hurry up!”
Momma, Dad and Joey threw on some extra coats and followed me to the Brown Bomber.
The fly was still stuck and buzzing. “Oh, Mom-ma! Hel’ me! Geh me offa ’ere!”
“Oh my Lord!” Momma screamed, and I thought she was going to do one of those movie-style faints, she even put her hand over her forehead and staggered back a little bit.
Joey, of course, started crying right along with Byron.
Dad was doing his best not to explode laughing. Big puffs of smoke were coming out of his nose and mouth as he tried to squeeze his laughs down. Finally he put his head on his arms and leaned against the car’s hood and howled.
“Byron,” Momma said, gently wiping tears off his cheeks with the end of her scarf, “it’s O.K., sweetheart, how’d this happen?” She sounded like she was going to be crying in a minute herself.
Dad raised his head and said, “Why are you asking how it happened? Can’t you tell, Wilona? This little knucklehead was kissing his reflection in the mirror and got his lips stuck!” Dad took a real deep breath. “Is your tongue stuck too?”
“No! Quit teasin’, Da-ee! Hel’! Hel’!”
“Well, at least the boy hadn’t gotten too passionate with himself!” Dad thought that was hilarious and put his head back on his arms.
Momma didn’t see anything funny. “Daniel Watson! What are we gonna do? What do y’all do when this happens up he-uh?” Momma started talking Southern-style when she got worried. Instead of saying “here”
she said “he-uh” and instead of saying “you all” she said “y’all.”
Dad stopped laughing long enough to say, “Wilona, I’ve lived in Flint all my life, thirty-five years, and I swear this is the first time I’ve ever seen anyone with their lips frozen to a mirror. Honey, I don’t know what to do, wait till he thaws out?”
“Pull him off, Dad,” I suggested. Byron went nuts! He started banging his hands on the Brown Bomber’s doors again and mumbling, “No! No! Mom-ma, doe leh him!”
Joey blubbered out, “This is just like that horrible story Kenny read me about that guy Nar-sissy who stared at himself so long he forgot to eat and starved to death. Mommy, please save him!” She went over and hugged her arms around stupid Byron’s waist.
Momma asked Dad, “What about hot water? Couldn’t we pour enough hot water on the mirror so it would warm up and he could get off?” She kept wiping tears off By’s cheeks and said, “Don’t you worry, Baby, we gonna get you off of this.” But her voice was so shaky and Southern that I wondered if we’d be driving around in the summer with a skeleton dangling from the outside mirror by its lips.
Dad said, “I don’t know, pouring water on him might be the worst thing to do, but it might be our only chance. Why don’t you go get some hot tap water and I’ll stay to wipe his cheeks.”
Joey told By, “Don’t worry, we’ll come right back.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave By a kiss, then she and Momma ran inside. Dad cracked up all over again.
“Well, lover boy, I guess this means no one can call you Hot Lips, can they?”
Dad was killing himself. “Or the Last of the Red Hot Lovers either, huh?” He tugged on Byron’s ear a little, pulling his face back.
By went nuts again. “Doe do dat! Mom-ma! Momma, hel’! Keh-ee, go geh Mom-ma! Huwwy!”
“Hmm, I guess that’s not going to work, is it?”
Every time he wiped away the tears and the little mustache of boogers on Byron’s lip Dad couldn’t help laughing, until a little river of tears was coming out of his eyes too.
Dad tried to straighten his face out when Momma and Joey came running back with a steaming glass of hot water, but the tears were still running down his cheeks.
Momma tried to pour water on the mirror but her hands were shaking so much, she was splashing it all over the place. Dad tried too, but he couldn’t look at Byron without laughing and shaking.
That meant I had to do it.
I knew that if my lips were frozen on something and everybody was shaking too much to pour water on them except for Byron he’d do some real cruel stuff to me. He probably would have “accidentally” splashed my eyes until they were frozen open or put water in my ears until I couldn’t hear anything, but not me. I gently poured a little stream of water over the mirror.
Dad was right! This was the worst thing we could do! The water made a cracking sound and froze solid as soon as it touched the mirror and By’s lips!
Maybe By’s mouth was frozen but his hands sure weren’t and he popped me right in the forehead. Hard! I hate to say it but I started crying too.
It’s no wonder the neighbors called us the Weird Watsons behind our backs. There we were, all five of us standing around a car with the temperature about a million degrees below zero and each and every one of us crying!
“ ’top! ’top!” By yelled.
“Daniel Watson, what’re we gonna do?” Momma went nuts. “You gotta get this boy to the hospital! My baby is gonna die!”
Dad tried to look serious real quick.
“Wilona, how far do you think I’d get driving down the street with this little clown attached to the mirror? What am I supposed to do, have him run beside the car all the way down to the emergency room?”
Momma looked real close at By’s mouth, closed her eyes for a second like she was praying and finally said, “Daniel, you get in there and call the hospital and see what they say we should do. Joey and Kenny, go with your daddy.”
Dad and Joey went crying into the house. I stayed by the Brown Bomber. I figured Momma was clearing everybody out for something. Byron did too and looked at Momma in a real nervous way.
Momma put her scarf around Byron’s face and said, “Sweetheart, you know we gotta do something. I’ma try to warm your face up a little. Just relax.”
“O.K., Mom-ma.”
“You know I love you and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right?” If Momma was trying to make Byron relax she wasn’t doing a real good job at it. All this talk about love and not getting hurt was making him real nervous.
“Wah are you gonna do? Huh? Doe hur’ me! Keh-ee, hel’!”
Momma moved the scarf away and put one hand on Byron’s chin and the other one on his forehead.
“No! Hel’! Hel’ me, Keh-ee!”
Momma gave Byron’s head a good hard snatch and my eyes automatically shut and my hands automatically flew up to cover my ears and my mouth automatically flew open and screamed out, “Yeeeowwww!”
I didn’t see it, but I bet Byron’s lips stretched a mile before they finally let go of that mirror. I bet his lips looked like a giant rubber band before they snapped away from that glass!
I didn’t hear it, but I bet Byron’s lips made a sound like a giant piece of paper being ripped in half!
When I opened my eyes Byron was running to the house with his hands over his mouth and Momma following right behind him. I ran over to the mirror to see how much of Byron’s mouth was still stuck there.
The dirty dogs let Byron get away with not doing his share of the windows and I had to do the whole car myself. When we were finally going to Aunt Cydney’s house I decided to pay Byron back for punching me in the forehead and getting out of doing his part of the window scraping. Joey was sitting between us so I felt kind of safe. I said to her, loud, “Joetta, guess what. I’m thinking about writing my own comic book.”
“What about?”
“Well, it’s going to be about this real mean criminal who has a terrible accident that turns him into a superhero.”
Joey knew I was going to tease Byron so she sat there looking like I should be careful what I said. Finally I asked her, “Do you want to know what I’m going to call this new superhero?”
“What?”
“I’m going to call him the Lipless Wonder. All he does is beat up superheroes smaller than him and the only thing he’s afraid of is a cold mirror!”
All the Weird Watsons except Byron cracked up. Momma’s hand even covered her mouth. I was the only one who saw Byron flip me a dirty finger sign and try to whisper without smearing all the Vaseline Momma had put on his lips, “You wait, I’m gonna kick your little behind.” Then he made his eyes go crossed, which was his favorite way of teasing me, but I didn’t care, I knew who had won this time!
2. Give, My Regards to Clark, Poindexter
Larry Dunn was the king of the kindergarten to fourth grade where I went to school at Clark Elementary. He was king because he was a lot older than anyone else and twice as strong as the rest of us. He was stronger because he was almost full grown and he’d flunked some grade two or three times.
He was the third-oldest kid at Clark. The only ones older than him and stronger than him were Byron and Buphead, who were in the sixth grade and who’d also flunked some grade at least once, we weren’t sure because it was something that Momma and Dad didn’t talk about.
Larry Dunn was king of the kindergarten to fourth grade only because Byron didn’t care about them. Larry was the king of Clark … but Byron was a god.
It seemed like that would make me a prince or a real strong angel or something but it didn’t work that way, I was just another fourth-grade punk. I guess having the school’s god as my brother did give me some kind of special rights but not a whole bunch. It helped me with stupid stuff like the time I found a dollar bill and got too excited and was crazy enough to show it to Larry Dunn. I knew this was a big mistake about a second before he stuck his hand out and said, “Lemme see it.” What could I do?
“Kenny,” he said, “where you find this buck?”
“Outside the school, over by Kennelworth.”
Larry turned my dollar over and over, and I started getting nervous.
“You know what, Kenny?”
“What?” I held my breath.
“This is some real strange stuff but I lost fifty cents over on Kennelworth yesterday and I bet my fifty cents got hooked up with someone else’s fifty cents and made this here buck.”
Whew! I let my breath go, smiled and nodded. We went to the store to get change and Larry Dunn got back the fifty cents he lost and I got to keep the other fifty that got hooked up with Larry’s. I knew if it wasn’t for Byron being my big brother Larry would have said something like “Since my fifty cents found this other fifty cents and they hooked up to make this here buck I’m gonna keep the whole thing. You know the rules, finders keepers, losers weepers.”
Having the school’s god as my relative helped in some other ways too. I had two things wrong with me that would have gotten me beat up and teased a lot more than I did if it hadn’t been for By. The first thing was, because I loved to read, people thought I was real smart, teachers especially.
Teachers started treating me different than other kids when I was in the first grade. At first I thought it was cool for them to think I was smart but then I found out it made me enemies with some of the other kids.
Back when I was in the second grade, Miss Henry used to take me to different classrooms and have me read stuff out of the Bible or the newspaper in front of other kids. This was a lot of fun until I started looking up from what I was reading and noticed that while Miss Henry and the other teachers were smiling a mile a minute, all the kids had their faces twisted up or were looking at me like I was a six-legged dog.
Two years ago Miss Henry took me to Mr. Alums’s fifth-grade class. Mr. Alums was the toughest teacher in the school and just being in front of him was kind of scary. He looked down at me and said, “Good morning, Mr. Watson, I hope you are in good form today.” I just nodded at him because I wasn’t sure what that meant.
“Don’t be nervous, Kenny,” Miss Henry said. “Mr. Alums would like you to read a few passages from Langston Hughes.” She handed me a book and said, “You wait here while we introduce you to the class.”
The Watsons Go to Birmingham--1963 Page 2