I had an older sister that also went to the same school my first grade year. And I could never figure out which recess we shared together even if my life depended on it. And it kind of did because my sister was not mom or dad or the teachers or the school system. She actually did have me figured out and would shake the crap out of me if she caught me fighting or cussing or misbehaving on the playground
On the one hand it was like she didn't want to have anything to do with me or be willing to play with me or anything but on the other hand if I was fighting or about to or breaking some other rule she'd suddenly show up from out of nowhere and jerk me around or if I wanted a second opinion slap the dog shit out of me.
My grandpa and even my grandma and mom would call her "Snowball" sometimes. Snowball was actually a Black Angus cow my grandfather had years before which was so shiny black he named her Snowball.
And the thing about Snowball was that although she threw really good calves every year she also had a terrible temper and would "take you." In other words she would charge you and she meant business. And I mean she'd knock you down and trample you.
Grandpa said he could always tell when she was getting ready to get on the fight and charge because she'd get this wild look in her eyes. He said my sister had the same kind of temper and would get the same look in her eyes when she got mad just before she'd charge.
So as you can imagine I was a little spooked when I saw her stomping towards me the afternoon after the third grader and I had gotten into the fight. I remember there were a couple of other girls with her and she walked up to me and they were telling her about the third grader and she was just grabbing my face and looking at the scratches on it and the black eye I had by then.
She listened to the other girls a little bit but mostly just looked at me and then said for me to come with her and show her which kid had beat me up. We walked around for the whole rest of the recess but I never saw him. We also walked around for a while after school but still didn’t see him.
It must have been the noon recess we shared together because the next day right after I ate lunch she was waiting for me and told me again to point the kid out to her. We walked around and around the playground and I didn't see him at first. But finally I heard him yelling and laughing again and looked over in that direction and could see him pushing another kid around and making him cry.
She asked me if I was sure that was him, and then asked me again if I was "dead sure." I didn't know what she meant by dead sure but I was fixing to find out. But there was no mistaking him. I recognized his face and body but more than anything else there was no mistaking that laugh he had as he was standing there looking at the other kid he'd just pushed down.
My sister grabbed me by the hand and went stomping up to him. Then when she got in front of him she got that Snowball look in her eyes let go of my hand and then without so much as a single sound her hand turned into a fist and disappeared into his coat clear up to her elbow.
She had hauled off and hit him in the stomach harder than anyone I'd ever seen hit up until that time in my life. She hit him so hard he went straight to the ground with the wind knocked out of him.
I'm not sure I'd ever seen anyone get the wind knocked out of them before that and it was kind of interesting and I wanted to stick around and watch to see just what all happened. But my sister grabbed my hand and took off stomping again and since she still had that Snowball look in her eyes I went right along with her without hesitation.
I do remember thinking if she was going to do something like that she could have said leave my brother alone or something like that but as it turned out apparently she didn't have to. I don't remember ever getting pushed around or picked on by older kids on that playground again.
Maybe it was just the look they got in their eyes. But just like neither Grandpa nor any of the rest of the family would mess with Snowball when she got that look in her eyes nobody would mess with my sister either.
Once the fighting on the playground was no longer my primary preoccupation I had time to concentrate on my other two hobbies; shooting marbles and stealing.
And I'm not sure exactly how and why I got into stealing things but you know over the years I've come to think it did have something to do with what was going on at home or lack of same. Home just seemed like kind of a cold place to me. We weren't neglected or abused it was more like just being ignored most of the time.
But anyway it started because at that time if you can believe it we kept our lunch money in little tin cans that were fastened to a leg on our desks. Talk about easy pickens, any classroom and any desk seemed to have money in it. I started out just taking a nickel or a dime to get something extra to eat in the school cafeteria. But pretty soon I was taking pocket change to spend at the store to buy candy and stuff. And I was also quite generous and bought candy and stuff for other kids sometimes.
Then it seemed to me the whole world was just one big department store. I picked up toys at school and grabbed more toys on the way home from school. I didn't shop lift yet from stores but I'm sure that would have occurred to me pretty soon.
But the one thing I didn't steal was marbles. David, my friend and next door neighbor had taught me how to play several different marble games like “Pots,” “Chase,” and “Rings” with marbles. I thought we were pretty good. Then one day his dad came out there and said we were doing it wrong and he played a game with us.
He had a way of shooting a marble I'd never seen before, never seen since and could never master. He'd hold the marble between his thumb and finger at the tips and then sort of snap his fingers. The marble would not only fly like a bullet, when it hit another marble that one would fly right out of the ring while the marble he shot would stop dead still right where it hit the other marble and spin like a top.
I could never do that but still even trying to improved my shooting by a bunch and there were few kids my age that could beat me. And I really loved playing Rings where we drew about a two foot ring in the dirt on the ground. We would put marbles in the center of the ring to start. Usually five per person. Then we would shoot at the marbles inside the ring from outside the ring (no fudging.)
If you hit a marble and knocked it out of the ring and your shooter marble stayed inside the ring you got to shoot again from where it was. You got to do that until you didn’t knock a marble out of the ring and then it was the next person’s turn.
I started out with just a few, and then I had a pocket full of marbles I'd take to school every day. Then both pockets got full and I don't know why, when all the other kids had marble bags I didn't just get one too. But instead I found (or stole I can't remember which) a toy plastic bowling ball that was ripped where the finger holes were at. I just started stuffing my marbles in it and carrying it to school every day.
Of course there was a problem with that and it was that since I rarely paid attention in class I was always looking at my marbles and of course dropping them from time to time which would distract Miss Samples and the rest of the class.
Miss Samples got to where any marble that hit the floor got taken away from me. And sure as can be it wasn't long before I dropped my whole bowling ball full of marbles one day.
I really felt betrayed by that stupid bowling ball. It was actually kind of hard to stuff marbles into it and harder to get them out. But when it fell off my desk and started bouncing across the floor it seemed like just about every marble in it came pouring out and they were rolling and bouncing in all directions. Miss Samples did not give me her usual cross look over that one. I didn't know the word then to describe it but I do now, it was a look of total exasperation.
I was of course crawling all around trying to collect the marbles which was probably even more distracting for the class and taking forever so she finally just stopped the lesson and made it a class project to collect all my marbles and put them back in the bowling ball. I thought that was very helpful of her until we got them all collected and back in the ball.
But then Miss Samples stuck out her hand for me to give her the ball and when I did she took the key out of her top desk drawer, unlocked her big bottom secret drawer put my bowling ball full of marbles in it with the other 30 or 40 she'd collected from me and locked the drawer again and put the key back in her desk. I never paid attention in class but I did pay extreme attention to all that.
I was heartbroken of course but had no idea just how bad it was going to be because there was another mystery I was working on and couldn't figure out.
And that was every now and then Miss Samples would give me a piece of paper just before I went home and would tell me to give it to my mom. I would and the next thing I knew I'd be in trouble. I could never make the connection but looking back now it does seem to me to be a cold blooded conspiracy to take advantage of a poor little kid who couldn't read.
Anyway the next thing I knew my mom was telling me I couldn't take any more marbles to school and I was throwing a fit. Of course I was also thinking that was only mom saying that and she never really paid much attention to me and wouldn’t bother to even check.
Both her and dad had jobs in Denver so we had to get up early and she would drop us off at the baby sitters in the morning. So I thought I'd have lots of chances to ignore the no marble rule and take marbles to school anyway.
But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! My older sister also heard about it so much to my rage and disappointment she started frisking me every morning before I went to school and she even found the ones I tried to hide in my mouth.
That thwarted me for a couple days at least. But then one day right after lunch I was in our classroom stealing lunch money anyway so I went to Miss Samples desk to get some of my marbles back.
I had the basics right. Every morning Miss Samples would get some keys out of the top drawer of her desk then unlock the big bottom drawer, put her purse in it, lock the drawer again, and put the keys back in the top drawer. But I searched that whole top drawer several times and could not find any keys.
I couldn’t explain it or figure it out. I thought I saw her get the keys out of that drawer every morning, lock up her purse, and put the keys back in the top drawer. So why couldn’t I find them?
I laid another study on it the next morning and it was just like I thought. Miss Samples got the keys out of the top drawer, locked up her purse. and put the keys back in the top drawer. Then I got to thinking maybe she took the keys with her when she went to lunch. So I thought I would watch for that. But no she didn’t even get in the bottom drawer for lunch.I decided maybe the keys were gone just that one day. But I went back and searched again during lunch and still came up empty.
I was thoroughly perplexed but wasn’t going to give up on my marbles so I watched her again but more carefully the next morning. And that morning I watched the hand with the keys in it.And even though she was already saying good morning and getting ready to say our morning prayer (which was still legal my first grade year) and then the Pledge of Allegiance there was a funny movement of her hand, sort of a flick of the wrist at the front edge of the drawer.
I went back to Miss Samples’ desk more determined than ever. But my determination didn’t seem to be getting me any place I still couldn’t figure out the mystery.
I was just about to give up again when I happened to touch the tiny little drawer at the front of the top drawer where Miss Samples kept her pens and pencils and it seemed to move. So I tried it again and it moved even more.
I could not believe how diabolical the plot was just to try and keep some poor little kid from getting his marbles. That little drawer wasn’t attached to anything and slid back and forth. And there were the keys hidden under it.
I reveled in my success but only for a few seconds though. There were several keys and I couldn’t try them to find out which one unlocked the bottom drawer because I was out of time or about to be out of luck and get caught. So I carefully put the keys back right where I found them and put the little drawer back in place.
I had to wait until lunch time the next day before I got a chance to try again. I got in the top drawer and found a few keys, tried them in the bottom drawer until one of them worked and got in her bottom drawer. The only things in that bottom drawer were Miss Samples’ purse, the delicious pastel candy sticks she sometime awarded as special prices and my bowling ball full of marbles.
I reached right past the purse and candy sticks and never touched either one. I just took out some marbles, locked her drawer again, put the key back and went outside to shoot marbles.
It was kind of a good deal actually because even though I couldn't understand it some of the kids in our class were catching on to both money and subtraction and had figured out some of their lunch money was missing. And since it was quite a process to steal my marbles back I quit stealing money and concentrated on just my marbles.
Then I'd play during lunch and afternoon recesses and whatever marbles I won went into my pockets and stayed there. Nobody frisked me after school so I just started dumping them in my empty Lincoln Log container when I got home. It was round and about six inches across and about two feet high.
That was working pretty good, plus I still had the world department store on my way home from school where I picked up toys and things like that along the way.
Life was good except one day another strange thing happened. I was just sitting there lost in my own little world and Miss Samples was handing out work sheet papers and the next thing I knew I heard her say my name really softly and she was crouched down right next to me, still perfectly straight even in that position and she whispered; "Steve. will you try really hard to do this paper for me."
Well much to my own amazement I found out right then and there that I was wrong about someone having to beat the crap out of me to get me do something. Miss Samples who I thought was so beautiful could get me to do it by just whispering in my ear.
I think it was numbers and so I took off on trying to do the paper and I didn't think it took me that long but I know I was the last one done but at least I'd finished it. But then at a glance I could tell it didn't look like the other kids papers but maybe they were wrong and I was right.
Well I guess not. I tried to hand it to Miss Samples and she looked at it and then put it back down on my desk and said some of the numbers weren't right. I think they were the three's and the five's because I always got them mixed up.
I didn't know whether to get mad or cry or what until I felt her putting the big fat pencil in my hand and then with her hand on top of mine she helped me do them right. I think that was just pure instinct on her part but that was what I needed more than anything else in the world.
My brain and my eyes couldn't see them right but I could feel my hand and it helped me remember threes faced left and fives faced right. Not to mention making my heart beat really fast because Miss Samples’ hand was touching mine. And I still got a smile.
Well OK if that's what it took I was willing to try really hard. But the next paper was letters and words and we had to copy them. I was trying to use all the cues then. Looking at the paper, looking at other kids’ papers, looking back at mine which didn't look like theirs and getting madder and madder at myself.
Their papers were neat and orderly. Mine was ugly and when I tried to cross something out all of a sudden it was ripped. And then I noticed it was ripped because it was wet. And then I noticed it was wet because I was crying and didn't even know it. And then I noticed every kid in class had stopped working and was staring at me.
I did not know Miss Samples could glide that fast. One second she was crouching down at another kids desk across the room and the next second she just floated to my desk and did something I'd never seen her do before with any kid. She put her arm around my shoulders and took the pencil out of my hand.
I couldn't tell her this but even with her arm around me she had two choices. Either let me go to the restroom or try to keep me from beating up every kid in that classroom. Maybe she just knew because I at least got restroom out and she said yes.
So I forgot the no running rule and took off and then once I got in the restroom I at least knew I was crying. Which I thought was a pretty dirty trick my body had pulled on me inside the classroom. Your body should at least tell you when you're crying I thought.
And while I was crying I learned two new words; stupid and dummy. I'd heard them lots of times before. I'd been called them lots of times but I never really knew what they meant until then. I'd tried. I tried my hardest and I just couldn't do it because I was stupid. I was a dummy.
About then the door opened and one of the boys from our class stuck his head in the opening. Then he just ducked his head right back out and I thought that was because he knew I might beat the crap out of him if he so much as stepped inside.
Then to my utter amazement and complete horror the door opened wide and Miss Samples floated in and came to where I was sitting on the floor.
I couldn't believe it. The king of all rules was boys couldn't go in the girls restroom and girls couldn't go in the boys restroom and Miss Samples, who always made us follow every rule had just broken the king of all rules herself.
She was holding me by both my arms and saying something but it was like I couldn't really hear and the last thing I could do was look at her face or into her eyes. So instead of listening to her I just told her the two new words I'd learned; stupid and dummy because I couldn't do the paper.
Then Miss Samples shook me and told me to look at her and when I did that's all I could see were her deep blue eyes and they were so intense it restored my hearing. And Miss Samples told me she never wanted to hear me say those two words again.
There were boys trying to use the restroom by then and they were pretty shocked to find Miss Samples in there so she took me by the hand and we went out in the hall. And then she crouched down again and grabbed both my arms again, made me look at her and said I really needed to listen to her. "I just asked you to try Steve. That's all." she said, "and I know you did. I know you tried your best. And that's all you have to do is try."
I learned all those words and the meaning to them right there to, and I've never forgotten them. In fact I bet I've said those same words to a 1,000 other people and kids since that day and taught them what they meant. All you really have to do is really try.
I don't know how long all this took but I know those last words did something to me and it was like they put on my crying breaks and then I could begin to stop.
Then Miss Samples said we really needed to get back in the classroom and when we opened the door and started to walk in it was pandalerium as Jeff Foxworthy might say. There were kids up running around, yelling and laughing and I thought that was my fault too and I was ready to whip that whole class again.
Actually I didn't get along with most of them very well at all. I thought they were all a bunch of goody two shoes kids who never misbehaved at all, or spoke out of turn or ever distracted the class, or broke any of Miss Sample's rules.
But just because she had to leave the classroom because of me as soon as her back was turned they took advantage of her. Even my friend that happened to be a girl Michelle and William “don’t call me Bill” who always wore a bowtie were up and running around screaming.
Miss Samples just clapped her hands and all of them looked up and then went scurrying to their desks like the rats they were. They were all looking at me and Miss Samples again and that was fine because I thought they'd all be real impressed when I kicked the chair out from underneath William “don’t call me Bill" because he was the nearest to me. But I refrained.
After that Miss Samples would hand out papers and I would still try but not so hard that it made me cry again. It was all feeling like pretty tough going and I think I made up for it by trying to steal more things. When I wasn’t playing marbles.