MAPLE CREEK MEMORIES XVIII
UP THE BRANCH
Part II
I met Jake at the grocery store the summer before I started the first grade. He was there with this Dad and Mom getting a pair of shoes for school just like me and my brothers. His brother, Mel, was there too as was his sister, Rhonda. His Mom was a medium sized woman with a lot of blonde, frizzy hair and Rhonda had the same kind of hair. Jake had blonde hair and Mels' was brown, like his Dads'.
My brothers and I all got what we called brogans for school, high topped boot type shoes, but Jake got a pair of patent leather loafers and I wished I could have a pair like that. My father told me he couldn't afford them and, anyway, when winter got there, Jake would be wishing he had some brogans too. I don't think my father was too impressed with Jake or his Dad, they talked funny and had such high airs and Jake's Mom, she was worse than both of them, always talking about what she had in Michigan and what she would go back to as soon as Marcus was called back to work in Detroit.
When school started, Jake and I became good pals. He brought marbles from home and we'd play every day. He was better than me but we still liked to play. He'd give me twenty in the morning and they had to last me all day. If I lost them back to him, I could only play with the ones I had left. At the end of the day, I had to give them all back to him anyway so he could take them home. Sometimes he'd forget to bring them in the morning and we'd run to his house at lunchtime and bring them back to school so we could play at afternoon recess.
Jake and I did everything together and in the evenings he and Mel would come around to our place and play. We would rip and chase all over the place, climb hills and playing the creek, race up the trees and down again. He got a bike for Christmas and I got to ride it a few times before he moved away. Mostly though, he and I would get on it and it would fall over with us. His Mom got so mad because we scraped and scarred the paint on it but his Dad just laughed and said he'd put some more paint on it.
Jake and his family moved away, back to Michigan at the end of first grade. That was a sad time for him and me but his Dad got laid off again about a year-and-a-half later and they moved back. They didn't get to move back into the same house and had to stay with his grandpa at the top of the hill. But that was okay, he still attended the same school as me. We didn't play much marbles, though, but a lot more tag and softball. By this time Mel had started school, and that made it just that much more fun. Sarah had started playing with the girls more, too.
At recess, one day in spring, Mel had to go to the privy really bad, and he took off at a dead run. The school had just had new gravel paths laid down between two-by-fours and Mel was moving fast. At the fork of the new walks, the boys had to turn right and go up the hill to the privy. If you went straight ahead you ran into the coal house, turn left and you went to the girls privy. Mel didn't make the turn quite quickly enough, realized his mistake, made a quick right turn and tripped over the two-by-fours. He was wearing lightweight pants and so his knees, both of them, were scratched and small gravels embedded in his skin. Lucky dog, he got to stay off school the rest of the week.
Again at the end of the school year, their Dad got his recall to the Detroit and they moved away. They returned just before the start of the sixth grade. Jake and I were inseparable that year in school, taking on all comers (they had consolidated three smaller schools into ours the year before.) Mel made new friends and quit hanging around with us. Sarah never hung around with us, except going to and from school, when she walked between us most of the time. And just as all good friends do at some point, Jake and I had our one and only fight that year.
After school was out one day, I had to get a dozen eggs at the store. Red put them in a small bag that barely held them, since he didn't have any cartons for them--he bought the eggs locally, sometimes from us in years past, and no one had cartons unless they were a grocer or whatever. Jake and I were going up the hard road, almost to the hollow entrance, when he said something I didn't like, out of the blue. Sarah was walking behind with her sister. I told him to not say things like that and he repeated it and began to tease me. As we turned into the hollow road, I got him over to one side and, with the eggs in one hand, delivered a good swing at him. Missed him completely. Off balance, I swung again. Didn't miss. Bloodied his nose, he's saying he's sorry and crying. I'm doing the same. Then Sarah has her arm around me and telling me that he shouldn't have been teasing me and asking what it was that he was teasing me about. You know who and what it was about. I made up a story on the spot, Jake swore by it. And I didn't break a single egg.
I never told Sarah what he was teasing me about. The one and only time he ever had. Jake and I made up. Sarah hung around us for a few weeks to make sure we were okay. We were best pals when he moved back to Michigan, not to return. I never saw him again after my sixth grade year.
Part II
I met Jake at the grocery store the summer before I started the first grade. He was there with this Dad and Mom getting a pair of shoes for school just like me and my brothers. His brother, Mel, was there too as was his sister, Rhonda. His Mom was a medium sized woman with a lot of blonde, frizzy hair and Rhonda had the same kind of hair. Jake had blonde hair and Mels' was brown, like his Dads'.
My brothers and I all got what we called brogans for school, high topped boot type shoes, but Jake got a pair of patent leather loafers and I wished I could have a pair like that. My father told me he couldn't afford them and, anyway, when winter got there, Jake would be wishing he had some brogans too. I don't think my father was too impressed with Jake or his Dad, they talked funny and had such high airs and Jake's Mom, she was worse than both of them, always talking about what she had in Michigan and what she would go back to as soon as Marcus was called back to work in Detroit.
When school started, Jake and I became good pals. He brought marbles from home and we'd play every day. He was better than me but we still liked to play. He'd give me twenty in the morning and they had to last me all day. If I lost them back to him, I could only play with the ones I had left. At the end of the day, I had to give them all back to him anyway so he could take them home. Sometimes he'd forget to bring them in the morning and we'd run to his house at lunchtime and bring them back to school so we could play at afternoon recess.
Jake and I did everything together and in the evenings he and Mel would come around to our place and play. We would rip and chase all over the place, climb hills and playing the creek, race up the trees and down again. He got a bike for Christmas and I got to ride it a few times before he moved away. Mostly though, he and I would get on it and it would fall over with us. His Mom got so mad because we scraped and scarred the paint on it but his Dad just laughed and said he'd put some more paint on it.
Jake and his family moved away, back to Michigan at the end of first grade. That was a sad time for him and me but his Dad got laid off again about a year-and-a-half later and they moved back. They didn't get to move back into the same house and had to stay with his grandpa at the top of the hill. But that was okay, he still attended the same school as me. We didn't play much marbles, though, but a lot more tag and softball. By this time Mel had started school, and that made it just that much more fun. Sarah had started playing with the girls more, too.
At recess, one day in spring, Mel had to go to the privy really bad, and he took off at a dead run. The school had just had new gravel paths laid down between two-by-fours and Mel was moving fast. At the fork of the new walks, the boys had to turn right and go up the hill to the privy. If you went straight ahead you ran into the coal house, turn left and you went to the girls privy. Mel didn't make the turn quite quickly enough, realized his mistake, made a quick right turn and tripped over the two-by-fours. He was wearing lightweight pants and so his knees, both of them, were scratched and small gravels embedded in his skin. Lucky dog, he got to stay off school the rest of the week.
Again at the end of the school year, their Dad got his recall to the Detroit and they moved away. They returned just before the start of the sixth grade. Jake and I were inseparable that year in school, taking on all comers (they had consolidated three smaller schools into ours the year before.) Mel made new friends and quit hanging around with us. Sarah never hung around with us, except going to and from school, when she walked between us most of the time. And just as all good friends do at some point, Jake and I had our one and only fight that year.
After school was out one day, I had to get a dozen eggs at the store. Red put them in a small bag that barely held them, since he didn't have any cartons for them--he bought the eggs locally, sometimes from us in years past, and no one had cartons unless they were a grocer or whatever. Jake and I were going up the hard road, almost to the hollow entrance, when he said something I didn't like, out of the blue. Sarah was walking behind with her sister. I told him to not say things like that and he repeated it and began to tease me. As we turned into the hollow road, I got him over to one side and, with the eggs in one hand, delivered a good swing at him. Missed him completely. Off balance, I swung again. Didn't miss. Bloodied his nose, he's saying he's sorry and crying. I'm doing the same. Then Sarah has her arm around me and telling me that he shouldn't have been teasing me and asking what it was that he was teasing me about. You know who and what it was about. I made up a story on the spot, Jake swore by it. And I didn't break a single egg.
I never told Sarah what he was teasing me about. The one and only time he ever had. Jake and I made up. Sarah hung around us for a few weeks to make sure we were okay. We were best pals when he moved back to Michigan, not to return. I never saw him again after my sixth grade year.
posted by tanstaafl | 11:16 AM
2 Comments:
There is just something perfect about the Up The Branch entries here at the beginning of Spring. These are just wonderful. I keep changing my mind about which stories are my favorites, lol.
I just love these, Tanstaafl. All of these stories I could just sit down and read over and over again. I wish everyone could read them. It sure beats a lot of literature on the shelf today.
Have you ever looked at this site? You might find it interesting...and maybe you'd like to submit some writings. I know, I know, I'm pushy, but really, these are wonderful stories.
http://community.berea.edu/appalachianheritage/guidelines.html
Thanks for the link, Michelle. I'll take a look when I get time. This week is pretty full though. I have my granddaughter every day in the afternoon except Wednesday, and that day is my day with the specialist.. By the way, the problem I mentioned before has pretty well disappeared. I think I had, pardon the expression, a fart crossways as Ma used to say. And once that was cured up, the pain disappeared. It recurs only very occasionally. But I'm still going to see the specialist. As long as I'm riding this insurance diagnostics, I'm gonna ride with it.
Now for the meat--You are privileged. I have a fairly large collection of vignettes. But I also have been working on the novel that brings them all together. The dedication is written--to my children and grandchildren. It currently runs about 75 pages single spaced, pica, one side print. But I have a total of some 67 vignettes, of which I have completed only about twenty. The rest are fairly short. Remember the one about the bike? I knocked that off in about fifteen minutes the other day, so I know that my touch is still there. I can still get it down quickly, but the edit is the dog that takes the time. Because I rewrite as I edit and a short one like the bike can become twice as long very easily. And I sometimes curse my memory for that trait. I;m not a perfectionist, but I find that the added detail makes the final story better, and I do like my stories to appeal.
Oh, and by the way, the note to lurkers the other day? I review my profile once a week. And for ages the 'views' only were going up by ones and twos, sometimes nones, on a weekly basis. To the point that after two years of blogging, I had some 90 views. Then I started this series, and the last time I checked, it stood at around 230. Since mid=March less about 90. All I want is for people to say Hi or anything at all so I have some idea of who is running the count so high. Better yet, a comment, good or bad, would be even better.
Maple Creek Memories is the Working title. Up the Branch is intended to be the final title, but even that may change. In the original vignette, real names and place and road names appear. Maple Creek Memories changes all that so I can have it complete and still retain some semblance of knowing what I am doing with names. It is not easy to substitute Upper Buck Road for Upper ____ ____ Road, and do it all the time.
And the hardest part, really, is transitioning from the vignette to the novel layout. I usually write vignette in present or past tense only, but a lot of the time I will mix and have to do a tense edit before I rewrite and final edit, then there comes the longer rewrite edit. And then it is good enough to transition. It sounds complicated, but after a few times it is just part of the package and goes much quicker than writing about doing it does.
Whew! That was a lot!
But as long as I keep kicking I'll keep inching along towards completion. And if I don't finish the compilation, I'm sure Kelsie or Mike will.
Again, thanks for the link. I have a printer in Huntington and one in Ashland in mind already, but we'll see what Berea offers.
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