2/27/15
1.
Eight year old Walter was smiling as he walked home from school. This was only the second week of classes but it was shaping up to be a good year. He entered his house quietly and walked to the kitchen wondering what mood his mother was in today.
“Well, hello, Walter,” she said with enthusiasm. “How was school?”
Feeling somewhat puzzled to see her smiling, he answered cautiously. “It was fine. But the teacher wants to move me to a different third grade class.”
“Why?” Her expression became serious. “Did you do something wrong?”
“No, nothing like that. She just said my I.Q. test shows I shouldn’t be in the Blue Bird class.”
His mother put her hand to her mouth. “You shouldn’t be …?”
“They want to move me to the Eagle class.”
She sighed with relief. “Oh, I thought at first they were putting you with the Buzzards.”
“They sure have funny names, don’t they Mom? I wonder how they picked them.”
“So, are you glad to be moving up?”
“Yeah. Sort of. But I was already making friends in this class.”
“Really? Who?”
“Well, they’re not friend-friends yet. But I kind of like Erskine –”
“Isn’t that the negro boy?”
“Yeah. Is that OK?”
“Oh, sure. You can be friends if that’s what you want. Who else?”
“Well, um, there’s a girl. Her name is Gigi. She has blond hair and blue eyes, and she’s really, um, uh.”
“And you’re afraid you may never see them again if you move to another class?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, there’s still lunch and recess. You can see them then.”
“OK. Thanks, Mom. Is there anything to eat?”
“No. Not yet. Why don’t you go play with your brother and sister?”
“Aww. Will doesn’t like me anymore. As soon as he sees me he says to get lost. Besides, he listens to that weird music and his hair smells funny.”
“What about Liz, then?”
“She always locks her door so she can talk on the phone to her boyfriend.”
“Is she still doing that? Her father told her to stay away from that boy. I’ll have to talk to her.”
“No! Don’t. She’ll know it was me that told you. Please?”
“Hmm. We’ll see. Now go play outside until dinner time.”
= = = = =
2.
The early December afternoon was cool but sunny as Walter walked home from school. He was thinking of what he might get for Christmas. He entered the kitchen and found his mother crying.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Just having a hot flash.”
He went to her and placed his hand on her arm. “You don’t feel hot.”
She smiled weakly. “Don’t worry, I have medicine for it.” She opened a nearby cupboard and pulled out a small prescription bottle. After removing a pill she set the bottle on the table then turned to get a glass of water.
Walter picked up the bottle. “Val-, Val-i-um. Take as needed for depression. Oh, Brian’s mom takes these. I wonder if she gets hot too.”
“Probably scared like the rest of us. So what did you learn at school today?” she asked as she took the bottle from him and stuffed it in her apron pocket.
“We had an air-raid drill and watched a movie called, ‘Duck and Cover’. We practiced getting under our desks and crouching beside walls.”
“Really? That film is kind of old, isn’t it?”
“No. I just saw it today.”
“No, I meant they showed that same little film to your brother and sister five or six years ago. During the missile crisis, I think. I guess it’s good they’re showing it again. We must always stay ready for danger. I wonder if the Russian trawlers are back because of all the nuclear testing.”
“They showed us an atom bomb movie last week.”
“That’s nice. Why don’t you go watch a little TV until I call you for dinner.”
“Oh, boy! The Flintstones!” Walter jumped up and ran from the room.
A short time later Walter rushed into the kitchen again looking distressed.
“Mo-om! What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“The TV is messing up.”
“I’m just using the cake mixer to stir some muffin batter. You’d like muffins for dinner, wouldn’t you?”
“But every time you turn it on the TV picture gets all scrambled.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ll be done in a second.”
“Hurry. I’m missing my show.”
= = = = =
3.
It was early April but the days were already getting warm. Walter entered the house and went to the kitchen for a drink and hopefully an after-school snack, but his mother wasn’t there. He soon found her in his room packing some of his clothes into a suitcase.
“Mom? What are you doing?”
She jumped and gasped before she recognized who it was. “Oh, Walter. I didn’t hear you come home. Honey, you’ll be staying with grandma and grandpa a few days.”
“Aww! I don’t want to. There’s nothing to do there and they don’t let me see my TV shows. They only turn on the news, then watch Lawrence Welk or Bonanza.”
“I’m sorry. But we have a big problem with Liz to take care of and you’d only be in the way.”
“What problem?”
“It’s a big-people’s problem, so you wouldn’t understand.”
“Yeah I would.”
“Well, let’s just say she has to change schools. She can’t go to her old high school with Will anymore. Now she’ll be going at night. And depending on how things go when we meet her boyfriend’s parents, hopefully she’ll be getting married soon.”
“Oh. That would be good. Right?”
“Hunh? Yeah, good. Now go watch TV while I do this.”
Walter left his mother to finish but was back again less than five minutes later.
“What now?” she asked. “Do you need a toy or something?”
“The Flintstones weren’t on,” he said. “They were having a special show about this King guy. He was giving a speech about having a dream. He says black children and white children should play together. I play with Erskine sometimes. And Will has that black friend he hangs out with. But I don’t think Liz has any. Hey! Maybe she can –.”
“NO! She’d better not! She’s in enough of a situation without getting involved with a negro too.”
= = = = =
4.
Two months later Walter was walking home from school and feeling happy because summer vacation would begin soon. His expression fell as he entered the house and saw his mother crying again.
“What’s the matter, Mom? Are you hot again?”
She shook her head, then grabbed him in a tight hug. “No, it’s something on the news.”
“What is it?” he asked, pulling away from her. “Are there missiles coming?”
“No. That’s not happening yet, thank God. But Bobby Kennedy has been shot.”
“Huh? Didn’t he get shot a long time ago?”
“No. That was J. F. K. The president. This was his brother, R. F. K.”
“Who was the one shot a few months ago? Martin, um.”
“Oh, that was Martin Luther King.”
“Hey, that makes M. L. K. I’m sure glad our last name doesn’t start with a K.”
“You run along. Watch TV or something.”
Walter ran from the kitchen. But just a few moments later he was back again. As he entered the kitchen he saw his mother holding a broom and sweeping the floor vigorously, but not very effectively. She was muttering to herself, but once she noticed him she stopped.
“What is it?” she asked. “Do you want something?”
“There’s a siren sound outside.”
She paused and cocked her head. “Oh, that. It’s just a drill they planned for today; don’t worry. What are you doing?”
“Look, I’m under the table and covering my head with my hands, just like they taught us. Aren’t you going to come under too?”
“Huh! That wouldn’t really save anyone. Besides, it’s stopped. Listen.”
“Oh.”
“Now come out and go back to your show.”
“My show is over now. Mom? Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, I guess so. What is it?”
“I saw Will’s friend Jim outside a little while ago and his foot was all bandaged up. So I asked him what happened. He said he accidentally shot his toe off with a shotgun while target practicing. But Will laughed at him and said, ‘Accident, my eye! You just don’t want to get drafted!’ Then Jim shushed him and smiled. So what does that mean?”
“Well, you see. There’s a war going on in a place called Viet Nam. And the Army is making a lot of boys go fight whether they want to or not. But Jim’s hunting injury will keep him from having to go.”
“Oh. Do you think the Army will take me?”
“No, no. You don’t have to worry about that, you’re far too young. But Will and his friend are the right age. Will’s number is pretty far down the list, so maybe he’ll be safe. We just have to hope for the best.”
“OK.”
“Now
please go find something to do. I need to finish making dinner
before your father comes home.”
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