I just smiled, and at that moment, I knew he and I were going to be good friends.
“Abram one day I would love to go see the Eifel Tower - did you know there’s an elevator, and you can actually go all the way to the top? I bet you can see all of Paris from up there. “Abram have you ever been in an elevator?”
“No!”
We worked on the puzzle for about ten minutes, before we were called down for dinner. Truthfully, I was disappointed dinner was already ready so soon as it was, I had been enjoying my private time with my new best friend.
CHAPTER TWO
“THE BIG QUESTION”
Abram was now all settled in to his new place; it was grand having him so nearby, it seemed like we had been friends for a long time, we got along so famously, we were like two peas in a pod. We never seemed to argue, and he usually let me have my way. The hardest times of each summertime day, I found, was when the two of us had to be separated and then go to our own individual houses for the night. Most nights we nearly had to be drug in kicking and screaming, in less, we were listening to our favorite radio show, when both our families would come together; His family would come over to our house. Poppa just had purchased the radio a couple of months ago. The one thing we had going for us, when we went to bed each night, each of our bedroom windows faced one another. Therefore, we would play games in the window.
The two of us was now able to take satisfaction in the celebration of the rest of the summer, spending it together, and I had so much of the town to still show him. One day, the two of us had gone to the matinee, and seen a double feature, with several cartoons. We ate popcorn, had soda pop. Then we walked down to the train tracks that ran directly through town. Abram took a coin out of his pocket, and the gum he was chewing from out of his mouth. Stuck the gum onto the coin, then onto the rail track. Then we hid, as we waited for the next train to show up. Forty-five minutes later a train rolled on through.
Abram counted aloud, “We two-engines, and forty-three boxcars, and a caboose being towed along.”
Once they had safely passed, we went back to the track we searched for the coins.
“Hey Abram I found the coin laying near the track. Oh my gosh look it must be flatted out three times its once normal size.”
Each of us dreading the day when we would once again, be heading off back to school, to start the fourth grade. Since the two of us, both hated the thought of attending school. We tried and not talking about it and ruining the mood.
The first order of business, after Abram was freed up to play during the summer days, was to turn our tree house into a fully fledged clubhouse, though of course we were the only two members , with our mascot my dog named Trixie. We even came up with our own secret, very complicated two-minute handshake, although neither had the guts to become actual blood brothers. Instead, we cemented our young, blossoming friendship by spitting in our hands, and then shaking firmly. After transforming the tree house, I was so excited.
“Hey Abram, we should ask if we can spend the night in the tree-house,”
“Ya, that sounds like a good idea.”
But when I went to go asked Momma, “Momma could Abram and I spend the night in our club house?”
She got an awfully strange look on her face as I asked her. Who would not consent to that? At the time, my young unformed mind did not identify with, or comprehend Momma’s gun spoken worries, why suddenly it was taboo for us to be together, or at least spend the night together. But I wouldn’t leave well enough alone.
“Why, what did I do wrong, please Momma, please?”
“Young lady I said no! Now leave it!”
I hounded her for an explanation why we could not.“Momma why are you saying no to me?”
I had started thinking that she didn’t like Abram, or something. I guess. I threw one of my notorious tantrums, that is until Poppa happen to come home, and got caught up in my little outburst…
“Young lady you stop that at once, or I’ll tan you butt, you hear me.”
I guess I came to my wits, and decided it was not worth a spanking. Especially when I spotted Poppa’s belt was now out - oh I grew too hate that belt.
She responded to my confusion, once she realized I probably was not going to leave well enough alone.
“Hana darling I would like to talk to you, you have to understand boys and girls just don’t do that sort of thing - like sleep together, in the very same room unsupervised, or in your case, a tree-house, unless they're married, or they are brother and sister. It is not proper in God’s eyes. Do you understand what I am trying to say?”
I was mad at my Momma, but I didn’t dare argue - I knew my place, once she had brought God into the equation - she wasn’t playing fair. I knew then that the battle was over; I lost, and didn’t understand why! I knew it was not going to happen but, I still didn’t understand what exactly she was so worried about. I couldn’t work out what she thought was going to happen. Of course, I had yet to gain knowledge of the birds and bees, or I might have understood Momma’s concerns. I still hadn’t been told where babies came from, or perhaps I might have understood what she was worried about – or perhaps not – our friendship and bond was an innocent one, even back then.
Being that I was such a curious natured girl, I guess Momma was feeling bad. That night while Momma was giving me my bath, just about the time my hair was all lathered up with soap, I asked the loaded question all parents dread and fear coming. They all know the day will be arriving all soon enough with children, but always hope that it’s not that day today.
“Momma how are boys and girls - different from one another?”
Momma face surprised me when she suddenly turned a color shade of beet red, she also began an unexplained coughing sort of choking uncomfortable sound. She was silent for a moment; as she thought it out carefully exactly how she was to answer me back straightforwardly. In fact, for the first time that I can recall in my young life that she was a bit tongue - cried, and apprehensive. I could see her trying to answer me, and divert me at the same time; her words were hesitant, and very carefully chosen. I could sense something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell you what. You would understand that if you’re a parent. And to be candid, I was even more befuddled afterwards, thanks to Momma’s story sort of response - but seeing that Momma wasn’t making any sort of sense, I went ahead and played along. I think Momma was relieved that it was all over with, that I accepted what she had said. In truth, I did not understand at all.
When I went to bed that night, I was determined that if Momma was not going to tell me the truth, then I would have to find out for myself. I devised an elaborate plan - so I thought at the time.
Besides being summer the Abram and I went on a daily of trips or explorations, and with our eight-year-old ability of imagination, we turned them into true adventures. We used our imaginations; it was truly a magical time. Only on one particular such adventure, I was going to find out why girls and boys our dissimilar from one another, why it was Momma was so worried. I packed Abram and I up a picnic lunch. I had made it all by myself, which included a canteen full of water. At eight-thirty on that August day two weeks before school was to commence, I was going to get my answer.
Excitedly I knocked on Abram’s front door to retrieve him for the adventure I have planned out.
Mrs. Balsam answered the door, smiling “Hello there dear, how are you this morning? Hana dear I have just baked a batch of oatmeal cookies. I know how much you love oatmeal cookies, here dear why don’t you have a cookie while there still warm, it sure is shaping up to be a nice day don’t you think! I suppose you are here to play with Abram. ”
“Hello Mrs. Balsam I am, Thanks I would love one of your cookies. I sure am. Mrs. Balsam seeing that it is such a nice day out, I just thought he would like to go play. My Momma let me make a lunch all by myself. I was really hoping that Abram and I could have a picnic today. I even made Abram his favorite sandwiches, and peach’s I picked from our tree this morni
ng. I also brought you over a bag full for you and your family.”
“Well that was sweet of you, I just make a peach pie, seeing as you went to so much work, and you made his favorite sandwiches, how could I possibly say no to you Hana, you’re just the sweatiest! Well let me add some cookies to your picnic lunch, if that’s ok with you.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“But Hana dear, you’re going to have to come back in an hour or so. I am afraid he has to do all of his chores, before he is allowed to play. His Poppa needed something’s done, alright dear?”
“Ok, I’ll see you in a while.” Dragging my feet heavily as I left, I headed back to my place and waited it out in the living room, maybe pouting a smidge. A while later, there was a knock on the screen door, and there he was, smiling, and certainly excited to go play. Through the screen door, he enthusiastically talked to me, when he had spotted me on the cough.
“I can go play now Hana, are you ready to go?”
“You bet I am!” I yelled so Momma could hear me, “Momma, Abram is here – we’re off to play now.”
Not coming out of the kitchen, she called back, “Ok dear you two have fun, but Hana dear please be careful, and for goodness sakes, stay out of trouble. And you be back by four, you hear me young lady! Not a minute later.”
“Yes Momma I will,”
Then I ran into the kitchen, and gave her a kiss on her cheek. And just like that, the two of us were skipping merrily off, happy as larks. At this point, Abram and Momma were none the wiser - just the way I had wanted it. And finally I was going to be unearthing the truth; curiosity was getting the best of me. I had the ideal spot to find out, quell my curiosity once and for all. There was a small pond, that was completely surrounded by a cornfield at this time of year. About a mile up the road from the house, off to the west. As it was a hot day, it was the ideal spot to set my plan into action, where the two of us could go cool off and swim. I had never swum with a boy before, except Poppa of course, but that does not count.
We made our way through the soaring stalks of corn, which were at least four feet above the tops of our head; we were making a game of it, seeing if we could get ourselves semi-lost. The corn was so tall, it was not possible to see over; we ran as fast as we could through the field, Abram was much quicker runner than I was, but I think he held back just a smidgen. Even at eight years of age, he was a true gentlemen towards me, he obviously had good upbringing. A quality I would love through the years.
Finally, we made it to my very secret pond, I named “Hana’s pond.” The place I like to come to catch frogs, which grow nice and big here. The shoreline that surrounded the pond was lined with a couple lofty pussy willows, oak as well as maple trees. And in the winter, I would come here to ice-skate. When we arrived at the pond, almost immediately Abram decided he wanted to dive right in the nice cool water. Thinking nothing of it, he stripped out of his shoes, socks, shorts and shirt, down into his underwear, and then ran and dove into the water. I don’t think he had swum with a girl before. I just stood there, not knowing what to do next - I had never been swimming with a boy before. Suddenly I found myself riddled with shyness being around him, what was going on with me - this was Abram I was talking about. It was at that moment = not knowing why really - but I felt the differences between us, even without fully understanding. I was afraid of him seeing me in this manner, and more importantly, what I might end up seeing. Then it dawned on me, Momma was right, she was not trying to be mean to me, she was trying to spare me.
Up to water up to his neck, smiling back at me, “Hana aren’t you going to come in the water? it feels great in here! Come on then. I don’t want to swim by myself, that’s no fun.”
I do not think he was thinking anything of the fact that I was a girl, and I too would be stripping down to my underwear, so maybe I should not be concerned either. “Ok but don’t look, until I tell you it’s safe - you have to give your word.”
“Ok, I won’t I promise.”
I stripped down to my underwear- and hung my dress up on a branch. You should probably understand in the nineteen thirties, underwear was not very flattering. But I guess I suddenly found myself somewhat bashful being this exposed in front of a boy, even if he was my best friend. Then the little girl once more came out in me. And I dove in the water. And you know what, I had fun! The moment I broke back up to the surface, Abram was waiting for me, and began splashing me for a good hour. The fact that we were the opposite sex was washed out in the water, I once again completely forgot at it. The curiosity quelled.
Like that, we played and splashed water at one another. I think I was a stronger swimmer than he was. My innocence’s wasn’t lost on that day, by searching out answers that would ultimately lead to my inability of thinking like a child any longer - I guess I didn’t want to grow up just yet. Somehow, I no longer was curious about all that silly stuff Momma had told me about. I knew somehow, in time those answers would come to me. In just a few short years in fact. But for now I didn’t want to become a women like my older sister just yet, I thought how dull she now was, I had witnessed how it had corrupted her. Always making a big deal about her developing breasts.
Funny thing, I had such a wonderful day that day with Abram, that day would bear out to be the first of many fine days I shared, at this very swimming hole. Over time, he would not only become my best and dearest friend, but the one and only true love of my life.
CHAPTER THREE
“SCHOOL TIME”
I was not too pleased about the thought of having to start up school once more, yet not all the wishing and praying in the world for the summer to carry on, couldn’t - and might I add didn’t-help. The first day of school still had arrived all the same. It arrived without much fan - fare, and our summer was over just like that, evaporated into mirror memories. I was not the only one feeling gloomy about the final demise of our summer - all the adventures that would be missed out on. Abram was not too eager either, about having to face the prospect of being in a completely new school, and start a new year. But since neither of us had any other friends to speak of at the school, it was comforting knowing we would be going through all the pain together. It was a mile walk in either direction back and forth to our school. That was not so bad, except in the thralls of the harsh winters we experience around here. We can get some pretty-cold winters.
The only actual part of the school day I generally tended to enjoy was lunchtime - and recess - and the best of all was of course, the end of the school day. Best of all though was end of school on Friday. I absolutely detested school, school was hard for me. I really worked hard for every grade I received all the way through - the polar opposite for my sister. I achieved good grades; but I think I worked so hard, because I was one that liked to please.
Abram and I took our lunch together - we would more often than not sit together to eat, but it wasn’t long before of the wintry cold weather had arrived with its vengeance. We would sit under a very old oak tree situated in the middle of the schools playground - I loved that old tree. When the leaves had departed from all the many branches, I was sad – watching it drop its finery around its feet and go to sleep. By then it was too cold, and as a consequence we were then forced to take our lunch inside the classroom. Then I sat at the window, and looked out at the tree. And that meant we were not given that break in the middle of the day, away from the teacher I so enjoyed. She just gave us evil looks, as she would eat. And even at lunch we were expected to behave ourselves, and sit as quite as can be…
To mine, and everybody else’s alarm, and horror, there was a new fourth grade teacher without word of warning. The teacher, I had thought, and was somewhat excited about becoming my new teacher was much nicer. I was under the assumption I was going to have - the very teacher my older sister had the fortune of having; my sister told me grand stories about her. Unfortunately, for me, and the rest of my classmates, she was having a baby, and during the course of the summer break, she had decided to
not come back to teaching this entire year, too late for me of course. I really hoped this teacher was going to be even better. That was a laugh! She was mean!
My new schoolteachers name was Mrs. Kaczmarek. After getting an opportunity to know her, she made the hair on the back of my neck stick straight up, just hearing her nasal rasp in her voice. I knew the very instant I saw her, that she was not going to be a pleasant sort of person. She was an older woman - her face was rutted with the effects of age, and I would guess unhappiness. There were deep creases and wrinkles, with particularly heavy dark wrinkling around her eyes Dark splashed shadowy bags deposited under each of her eyes, making her face look sunken and miserable. To me at the time she looked so old, however she probably was not more than forty years old. She had to wear spectacles in order to see clearly. Blind as a bat without them. Her eyes were hazelnut in color, and from what I could tell she was cold in nature. Oddly enough, she never cracked any sort of a smile, or of much as expression whatsoever, other than of course, the anger that reared its ugly head. She in no way wanted reveal to us anything personal about herself -to any of us-and she certainly cared nothing of any of her student’s lives. You knew just by glancing at her, that she had not sought to be here, she did not have the fervor. Her hair was long and wavy in nature. She successfully ruined what might otherwise have been beautiful on her if she wore her hair down. By wearing her hair pulled up into a tight bun, I think it was actually lifting her loose skin on her wrinkled face, pulling it back and up, sort of creating the effects of a face-lift, without actually receiving a face-lift. But she would have needed to pull it back much tighter to make the winkles completely fade away. Her hair was salt and pepper in coloring, she was built slightly on the heavyset side. Her figure was very unflattering, not so bad at her later age, she was built like my grandmother, and probably not much younger, though of course an eight year old is a poor judge of this. Her clothing looked well worn. I was flabbergasted that she was even married. Later sadly, I found out that she was in fact a widower, with the loss of her husband in a tragic mining accident two years earlier. All the life seem to be burn out in her face after that, her shoulders hung low, devoid of confidence, she always looked tired. She turned astringent as a consequence of her tragic loss - she only was teacher because she needed the money to feed her family, and there wasn’t a whole lot of jobs prospects of availability to women of this era, and in this horrible economy.
War Torn Love Page 3