The summer brought
socialization during the day while Dad was at work. I neglected my
chores and stayed gone from home a lot. Mostly it was harmless cutting up at
Janet Roberts' house. We listened to music, danced a little, told stupid jokes and stories and just hung
out. There were no drugs or alcohol but some of the kids started smoking
cigarettes and actually did kiss
the girls. Not me, however. Full puberty was still a few summers away. It was
during this summer that my dad discovered the way to control me was to keep me
away from girls, turn off the music and shave my head. I wasn’t that attractive
to the girls anyway but shaving my head would only make people laugh and point
their fingers at me. All the guys had
long hair and that kept the girls away from me.
The head shaving
started one summer afternoon when I came home from Janet’s house late. I can only remember one trip to the
barbershop in my whole life until I started working. My hair was never long but as I grew a little
older I was allowed to have a little more on top. Dad had always use electric clippers to cut
the boys’ hair rather than take us to the barbershop. This time he didn’t just cut my hair. He shaved it down to the nubs. I looked like
a convict. And now I was preparing to go to public school with new kids and I
looked like a geek. Talk about cruel and
unusual punishment…
Eventually
Dad found Mary Lou. After a short courtship Dad announced one Sunday evening
that he was going to marry a Junior High School gym teacher from Champagne,
Illinois. She had one son, Tim, who was about two years younger than me. He had
never known his father, who had disappeared before Tim was born.
It
wasn't that we didn't like Mary Lou. We just didn't really know her and it had
only been a little more than a year since Mother had died. We hadn't had any
normalcy in our lives. Where our Mother had been warm and loving Mary Lou was
perceived to be cold and logical. It
wasn’t until many years later that I realized what a challenge it was for Mary
Lou to take on 7 more kids. I should
have been thankful. We all should have
been.
The
changes came quickly after the simple ceremony. They bought a new house a few
miles away on Parker Road, just far enough so that we would have to change
schools. I was not going to graduate from 8th grade with the kids I had grown
up with. My choices were St. Dismas, another Catholic school that had always
been Our Lady of Fatima’s arch-rival, or public school, Florissant Junior High.
I chose what I thought was the lesser of
two evils - public school.
Soon
the gym teacher disciplinarian in Mary Lou began to come out and Dad jumped on
the bandwagon. I think the first sign we were in for a bumpy ride was the
merit/demerit board that Dad built and put up in our dining room. Each child
had a little section for merits and demerits with the sharp end of a nail
sticking out from the board. Each child started with $2.00 allowance and had to
accomplish certain chores to get the basic buck. We could do additional chores,
which offered additional merits worth .05 cents each. If we failed to do any of
our basic chores we got demerits worth -.10 cents each. If we didn't do the
chores correctly we got demerits. If we acted up we got demerits. If we talked
back we got demerits. I don't remember getting much allowance in that house.
The board was placed just behind the chairs that my brother and I were
"assigned to" for meals. I remember that the little nails were at
just the perfect height to stick us in the back of the head when we started
yucking it up or tried to escape a backhand quickly. I got stuck regularly and nearly impaled
once.
There
were so many other things that were unusual about Dad and Mary Lou compared to
our friends' parents. To keep us from watching TV when they left the house Dad
cut off the plug and installed a socket so that you needed a piece of wire with
a plug on each end to make the connection. It took us a while but we eventually
learned about electricity and made our own plug. Dad and Mary Lou came home one night after
being out and felt the top of the TV.
Noting that it was very warm he surmised that we had graduated to
deception. A search of my room produced
our own device and we were grounded.
Mary
Lou used to call us to dinner with a gym whistle. That was bad but it was worse
on Saturday mornings when she would wake us up from a deep sleep the same way.
I slept in the basement with Tim. The sound of the whistle echoed down the
clothes chute into our little heaven. When we still laid in the bed, out of
rebellion, she would pull out the big guns; a large glass of cold water in the
face. We were constantly beat up verbally with sarcasm and anger. I remember Mary
Lou telling me regularly that I had “diarrhea of the mouth and constipation of
the brain” and being told that I was acting "retarded" a lot. There
wasn’t much positive reinforcement at all during those years. We were treated
like her own little gym class. And the
head shavings continued.
None of our friends would come over to our house more than once. I think it was more my
parents attitude. They didn't care about our friends. They didn't try to make
them feel welcome. Their discipline was perceived to be meanness by the few
friends we had. It made it even more difficult to make new friends. In retrospect I don't think it was meanness, just ambivalence. Some of my friends’ parents allowed their
sons to have longer hair. If they were
seen by my Dad he would make it a point to ask them “whose little girl are
you?” He would say to me later that they
“have hair like a God … damned dog”. Dad
always wore a flat-top haircut in those days.
Yeah, that was some funny shit back then, to a lot of adults, but for us…not
so much.
Junior High - Nice Dickey, Huh!
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