The town we ended up staying in for eight months was quite small. But for me, those eight months were jam-packed with spicy flavor. So much transpired. This story will be the longest yet.
We lived in a park on the golf course. It wasn’t anything to brag about. The areas with the flags, where you putt, were pea gravel instead of grass. For the first time, I could walk to school. Up to this point, we usually lived in the country, so I rode the bus.
There was a big ditch, creek bed, or whatever you might call it, between our home and the golf course. I heard someone say there hadn’t been any rain or moisture that reached that dry creek bed in seventy years. I’ll quit stalling. Here we go!
After Christmas break, I headed to a new school. Another first. I had many here.
I wrestled for the first and only time. I was usually the tallest and biggest in school. That lasted until seventh grade, when everything started to balance out in that department. Wrestling was different. Your opponent was determined by weight, so I learned the art of wrestling from some eighth and ninth graders.
Tough lessons, for sure. They had their fun whooping up on me. I had my moments with them, though.
I didn’t lose a match that year. Honestly, most of the boys in my weight group weren’t as strong or as athletic as I was. They may have been there for their PE credits rather than to excel in athletics. That isn’t a judgment. You can bet they had their strengths in other areas. Most of my matches were over in under a minute.
My last match of the season ended up being my last one ever! I looked across the mat to find who on the opposing team I would be wrestling. With the heaviest wrestlers going last, I could usually look down the bench and spot my opponent.
This time, my heart truly leaped. It really did. He was a specimen of athleticism. Bigger and in better shape than me. My pulse quickened! Looking back, I can easily see the universe saying right to my face, “You asked for it. You got it.”
Win or lose, I was getting a match.
I almost lost because of a bloody nose, of all things. He elbowed me hard, right in the nose. It didn’t just bleed. It gushed. TMI? The match was about to be forfeited! But the bleeding finally slowed enough for us to continue.
I was so grateful for those eighth and ninth graders who had taught me the ropes and a few tricks of the trade. Without their training, I don’t think I would have won. Truly, looking at us side by side, you would have thought there was no question who the winner would be. And it wasn’t me.
I played baseball with a team for the first time, too. I pitched and played first base. I’m sure you’re wondering how someone just starting out could be an accurate pitcher. Well, I wasn’t! We had a lot of hard-throwing, wild pitchers in that age group. No coach pitch or machine pitch back then. To add to the comedy, our helmets were basically hard hats. No ear pieces. Fun times! I mean that.
In one game, my first time at bat, I faced a powerful, very wild pitcher. What transpired next happened fast, but this is how I remember it.
A pitch came in fast and wild. Coming right at my head! I don’t know whether it was the speed and power of the pitch or the momentum of me trying to get the hell out of the way. Probably a little of both! The ball hit the side of my head, right next to that spot we call our temple. I went over the catcher and landed right in the umpire’s lap. He basically caught me.
I felt it! A big goose egg formed quite quickly. We’re talking a large-and-in-charge kind of goose egg.
I remember Blue, the umpire, looking down at me. I still remember the stale smell of his last smoked cigar. He was a kind man! He said, “Boy, you took one, and you’re still here. If it had been over about half an inch, well, I most likely wouldn’t be able to say that.”
I crawled out of his hold and started walking to first. I heard him yell to the coach, “Get a replacement runner out here.”
I turned and asked if I could stay in. He looked at me and started laughing as he said, “Sure, kid, if you think you can.”
As I jogged to first, I remember thinking, “I’ll prove to you I can!”
Standing on first, I had forgotten that my mother would be running late for the game. When she saw me, she stopped, and her hand went to her heart. Her move when shocked. I shook my head and mouthed, “I’m fine.”
When we got home, I ran to a mirror to catch a glimpse of my head. My hand went to my heart! Then I burst out laughing! Mom soon followed suit. We both laughed so hard we cried.
The swelling was causing some distortions that made my face look pretty comical. It was pulling the skin on my face toward it. My left eyelid was pulled so taut that there was only a slit to see through. I could see through my right eye okay, but the eyelid was kind of crooked. My nose and mouth were even pulled off-center!
Hey, I did look pretty goofy. I can see why Blue was laughing when I asked to stay in the game.
The firsts just keep coming.
That wide, dry creek bed between our home and the golf course became the place where I decided to build a fort for myself and my friends. I don’t recall where I found the materials. But when I stepped back from it, I decided it was acceptable. Not bad, really.
Then I thought, “It needs a concrete floor to finish it off.”
So I got my red wagon and walked to a store to get some concrete. Don’t ask me how I knew to work with concrete, because I have no clue! It was about a mile and a half to the OTASCO.
I walked everywhere. A mile and a half was nothing. Heck, I had walked half a day to check out a new fishing spot, just to fish for half an hour before needing to head home ahead of the dark. When it gets dark in the woods, a person can’t see much, and I cared very little for the thought of getting lost.
I loved the name of that store because of where it came from: Oklahoma Tire and Supply Company. O-T-A-S-C-O.
I put the concrete in my wagon, went to the counter, paid for it, and thanked the man. As I was leaving, I happened to look back and saw a friend from my class. We talked for a moment. His parents owned the store. This was the start of a good friendship.
His dad decided to put me and my wagon, concrete included, in his truck and drive me home. That was sweet. Those bags were heavy! He wanted to see my fort and where I was going to put the concrete.
He came back the next day to see how good a job I had done. He hadn’t thought I could do it. Come to find out, the fort inspection and concrete inspection were an interview.
Evidently, he liked what he saw, because he asked if I thought I could paint the inside of his store. He had visions of his son and me painting it together. So I hired out for my first job and got paid. Nicccce!
A week or so later, I walked to a fishing hole to give my mind and body a break. Yes, even at nine, I needed it.
There were actually three fishing holes strung out in a row. The highway ran right alongside them, so a person had to be aware of their actions. I was accustomed to doing that anyway. I started at the farthest one and worked my way back.
I carried a rod and reel and a tackle box. I was proud of my fishing gear. I had saved my allowance for a long time to accumulate it. Plus, I bought quite a bit when I received payment for my work.
When I arrived at the third and last fishing hole, a guy was sitting next to it, just staring at the water. “To each his own,” I thought. I said hi and started getting ready to fish a little more.
I’ve had time slow down, and at times seem to stop completely, several times in my life. This was one of those times.
The guy turned and looked at me. With very little emotion, he stated flatly, “Either you’re going to give me your fishing gear, or I’m going to beat the shit out of you and take it anyway.”
Another first, I might add!
I was in shock. I had never felt an energy like the one he presented to me. Thoughts raced through my head in all directions. My vision started gradually condensing. It was like darkness was closing in around my eyes. I was frozen!
He started walking toward me. My adrenaline kicked up another notch. I didn’t realize it could get as high as it was. I was proud of my fishing gear. I didn’t wish for it to leave me, but it seemed there was nothing I could do.
As he bent down to pick up my tackle box, something came over me. It was like someone else took control of my movements. I spun with my fishing rod outstretched, trying to hit him with it and stop him.
He jumped back to dodge my wrath. That put him off-balance, and he fell in the water. Luckily, he dropped my tackle box. I reached down, grabbed my stuff, and took off running as fast as I could for home. I didn’t stop once.
As Forrest Gump stated, “I was running!”
Becoming friends with the OTASCO family brought some more firsts into my life.
They had a pet monkey. Nothing against monkeys, but I don’t think that will be going on my to-do list. The monkey was just being himself. But he threw things at you that should have been flushed down the toilet.
I flew in an airplane for the first time, too. They owned a small private airplane.
Then it happened. What I remember being described as the most rain we had received in over fifty years. It flooded the creek bed, and the water came over the tops of the banks.
When it receded, my fort was gone. Nothing was left. It was all gone, even the concrete. Not a trace of it left.
Two weeks later, we moved to the next town.
I mentioned that a lot happened during those eight months. Honestly, I didn’t recognize how out of proportion those eight months were in my life until I was doing inner work for the first time!
What a life!
Light and Love Always!
lwm
