One of the other boys took the box from his friend and started to tease Billy for carrying a lunch box. “Oh Billy boy likes the Harlem Globetrotters, are they your heroes?” Then he pushed Billy to the ground and began throwing the items from his lunch box. His final insult was to bang the lunch box on the side of the building several times before tossing it down to Billy.
At this point, the girls came out of the grocery store, and a few of them laughed at what the boys had done. A few defended him as much as they could without being outcast themselves. One of the girls said, “Why do you guys have to be jerks? Can’t you leave the kid alone?”
“Hmmm, like it would have killed anyone of them to help me collect my things,” he thought. As the group walked off laughing and commending themselves for a job well done with high fives Billy got up and began to collect his things. He was furious at what they had done to his lunch box. They were right he did like the Harlem Globetrotters, and it had taken his mother months to convince his dad to let her get it for him. His dad thought it was a waste of money.
Bill’s logic was, “Why can’t the kid use a paper bag, why do we have to waste all our hard-earned money on some foolish tin box?”
Bill often vented about how over-indulgent most parents were with their children these days. “Everywhere you turn these kids are peddling around on expensive bikes, wearing somebody’s name on their shoes and they’re all wired for sound with these crazy gadgets. I see them walking around all the time when I’m driving home, and it’s a miracle that more of them don’t get hit by cars. They have headphones hanging on their heads, and they aren’t paying one iota of attention to anything else.”
This was just the “G” rated version of Bills venting. Billy knew if his dad caught wind of the fact that his lunchbox got destroyed, his mom was sure to hear the “R” rated version later that night. Billy tried his best to push the dents back out of the box but no matter how hard he tried there was no way it was going to look like it did before. He was going to have to be very careful not to let his dad see it. His mom would understand that it wasn’t his fault, but his dad would just feel like it proved his point.
As he was collecting what was left of his belongings, he noticed Sherry sitting in her step father’s car across the street. “Just great,” he thought, “she would have to be here now and see all this. She must think I’m a sissy.” He pretended not to notice her, and he hurried to get away as fast as he could.
Sherry was embarrassed for him, but she was afraid to stand up to them herself. She had been hoping that her mother’s husband would come out of the hardware store quickly; maybe he would run the boys off. She thought, “He’s a jerk too, he probably wouldn’t help anyway.” Sherry wasn’t fond of her stepfather at all. She always referred to him as “he” or “him” or “her mother’s husband.” She never called him dad, stepdad or even by his name which was Bob. He was a large, burly man who was never clean shaven and Sherry thought he smelled bad. He had been married to her mom Diane since Sherry was about five years old. He never paid any attention to her when she was little, but as she began to get older, his interest in her took a dark turn.
Diane was useless as a mother, and she was far too interested in her soap operas and keeping Sherry and her little sister Lisa from bothering her to notice the increased interest that Bob had developed in Sherry. Sherry had always been a slightly awkward, geeky kind of little girl. She was tall for her age and very slender. Her clothes were always mix matched and never quite fit her correctly. Her hair was a dull chestnut red, and she wore it in braids all the time. Her braids weren’t a fashion statement; it was just easier to hide how dirty her hair was this way.
However, as Sherry got a little older, puberty was very kind to her. Everyone started to notice, including her mother’s husband. Bob and Diane were both heavy drinkers, and there was never a lack of booze or limes in their house. Sherry used to sneak into the trash every morning and retrieve the used limes. She would then scurry into the bathroom with them and try her hardest to rub them on her clothes to hide the stench of unlaundered clothing.
She had seen some of the other unfortunate kids get
teased for smelling funny and she was not going to let that happen to her. Sometimes if she didn’t have a chance to search for limes, she would grab the can of lemon pledge under the sink. She didn’t have to worry about getting caught using that; it’s not like her mother ever picked up a rag to dust anyway.
When Sherry’s little sister Lisa was old enough for school Sherry would get up extra early and take the clothes that Lisa was going to wear and rub lime juice on them as well. She never told Lisa about this because she never wanted her to feel like she was different from the other kids. Sherry knew what that felt like and she did everything in her power to shield Lisa from that horrible feeling.
There were times when Sherry would get up very early on a Sunday morning before anyone else had woken up and take a few outfits for her and Lisa and scrub them in the tub so they would have time to dry for the coming school week. That practice stopped abruptly one day when Bob staggered into the bathroom and caught her washing the clothes.
Bob pulled her by the base of her braid. “Get up here you sneaky, unappreciative little brat. I ought to knock
you into the middle of next week.” Each slap hurt a little less than the last one, as her face became numb with each blow. “You’re always trying to play the ‘poor pity me’ card; you don’t know how lucky you have it. Now get your ass outta here, I can’t stand to look at your face.”
She never dared to do that again, but she was resourceful, and this is when she began using the limes and pledges to soften the stench.
Billy had no idea what Sherry was living with at home. He just did his best to pretend she didn’t see him get beat up and planned on avoiding her for the day in school. Despite how the day began for Billy, it turned into one of the less stressful days in his memory. There were a couple of visitors to the school that worked on the planning committee. They were there to talk to the principal about some changes they would be implementing. To put forth an orderly appearance the principal canceled the class changes for the day and everyone stayed in their homeroom.
It was boring, but at least Billy didn’t have to go through all those class changes which always left him terrified of what fate the hallways would hold for him. There was a strong teacher presence at dismissal time as well. Their presence afforded Billy the opportunity to make it home without incident.
He busted through the front door like a man on a mission, “Whoa slow down little man,” his mom ordered, “Where’s the fire?”
Out of breath and panting, he said, “I….I…I just wanted to get home and work on my project. What time will dad be home?”
“He’ll be here soon, relax, now go put away your book bag and bring me your lunchbox.”
“Oh crap,” he had forgotten about his lunch box. His dad would be home in a few minutes and he needed to explain to his mom what had happened that morning.
“Mom, I need to tell you something and you ain't gonna be happy about it.”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows, “Spit it out boy, can’t be that bad, and don’t say ain't or gonna; neither one are actual words.”
He told her what had happened and he got so worked up while explaining that he began to cry. Then he pulled the lunch box out of his backpack and laid it on the table. His mom didn’t look happy about it, but she was more concerned about how he felt and making sure his dad did
not see the box.
Just then they heard the car door slam from the Chevy wagon in the driveway. “Hurry now,” she ordered, “get into the bathroom and wash those tears away, I’ll take care of the lunch box.”
Billy ran to the bathroom and slammed the door while his mom quickly stashed the lunch box under the kitchen sink. Unless there was a leaky sink, she knew Bill would never look in there. The only things under there were cleaning supplies and Bill was not the sor
t of man to clean. He had strong views about what roles men and women played and in his opinion cleaning was a woman’s role.
After a few minutes, Billy came out of the bathroom and began wandering around the kitchen poking at the fruit in the bowl and tossing an apple from one hand to the other. He was certain he was acting very casual, but his stalling technique was very obvious to his mom and dad.
“Dad, are you working in the garage today?”
His dad raised his right eyebrow, “Yes, why?” he replied with a curious tone.
Billy bubbled open, rattling off all the information ab-
out his science project and that he wanted to watch his dad
do work in the garage so he could invent something to make life easier.
His dad replied with a muffled snort and then said, “If you want to make my life easier, you’ll invent the money machine.”
Billy replied with a dragged out “Daaaaad, I’m being serious.”
Bill’s reaction was in no way directed at his son; it was just that the idea that his garage somehow held the secret invention to making his life more comfortable somewhat amused him, but he kept that thought to himself. “Oh well then, guess we better get out there and invent something.” Bill tussled Billy's hair and said, “Let's get a move on,” he glanced at Marguerite and smiled. “You better make us a hearty meal, we’re inventors now, and we need to keep up our strength,” then he let out a chuckle and followed Billy out to the garage.
For the next few hours, Billy bent his dad’s ear with dozens of questions. “What does that tool do?” “Why do you put oil on some tools and not others?” “Could we build a doghouse for Auntie Mabel’s dog Ginger?”
Bill did the best he could to answer the onslaught of questions, but his patience didn’t run as deep as Margue-
rites. He eventually found himself snapping answers, and Billy took the hint and began to sit quietly and observe.
Billy’s mind kept wandering back to Tony’s snotty little comment, “Lucky for you wimp.” “Wimp, I’ll show him, I’ll make the best invention ever. I wish I could invent a way to make Tony disappear,” he smirked, “Now that would be the greatest invention.”
That night Billy tossed and turned in bed. He had a dozen different ideas for his assignment. It was like someone kept changing the channel in his brain. He needed to decide what to invent so he could start working on it. He drifted off to sleep without turning his light off. He was sure to hear about that in the morning.
The next morning his mom poked her head in the bedroom and announced, “Time to get up sleepy head.” He mumbled, “Okay,” but then drifted off again for a few minutes. When he finally did pull himself out of sleep and ultimately his nice warm bed he ran to the kitchen so excited to tell his mom that he had decided what he was going to invent. After carefully watching his mother work around the kitchen and his dad work around the garage, he got an idea. The one thing he watched them both do was wrestle to throw things away. His mom was getting frustrated trying to open the trash can while trying not to dump all of the potato peels onto the floor. His dad was in hand to hand combat with a large trash bag which refused to stay open while he tried to dump dustpans of sawdust. The bag kept going as limp as a child’s legs who refused to walk. Billy was going to do exactly what his teacher had told him to do.
Billy was going to invent a garbage can that could hold the trash bag securely while allowing the operator to open it with their foot, thus leaving their hands free. He was so excited to run downstairs and tell his mom all about his idea.
“Mom, mom, remember when the other day you couldn’t get the potato peels into the trash cuz they were falling all over the floor? Dad was having the same problem in the garage.”
His mom’s giggled, “Your dad was throwing away potato peels in the garage?”
“Noooo mom,” he knew she was playing with him, but he didn’t have the patience to laugh, he just wanted to tell her about his idea.
His mom conceded, “Okay honey, I’m sorry, go on, you were saying?”
Billy continue, “Dad was trying to sweep the wood and sawdust and put it in a trash bag and it kept falling all over the place. I came up with an invention to help you both. I’m gonna make a garbage can that you open with your foot.”
He paused to see if she was as excited about the idea as he was.
His mom stopped and thought for a minute then said, “That is a great idea, I’m so proud of you.”
Billy spent the rest of breakfast rambling off things he would need to make it work. He continued to yell ideas from the bathroom between spits while he brushed his teeth.
His mom hadn’t seen him this excited in a long time. It always broke her heart to see him so sad because she knew what he went through with the other children but back then bullies were considered something as inevitable as the rising sun. Children were just cruel. Marguerite was so happy to see Billy finally excited about something.
Billy spent the next few days “creating” his invention.
He used a small trash can with a cover to make his prototype. It had one side of the lid taped down with duct tape, and the other side had a long wooden dowel that he had borrowed from his dad's garage. He taped one end of the dowel to the trash can lid, and the other end extended to an old bicycle pump foot pedal. Every time you stepped on the pedal, it would push the stick up and force the lid open. It was pretty primitive in design, but Billy was bubbling with excitement about it.
To complete his project he also made a poster board display which was made out of a cardboard box that he had unfolded and cut into a square and then covered in construction paper. On the board, he drew out how the gadget would work and taped a hand-written report of how he came up with his invention. If Mr. Collins goal was to get the kids thinking, then that goal had been reached with Billy.
Monday morning he ran off to school with the invention and the display board. He hoped that Mr. Collins would be impressed.
As Billy was cutting through the playground that morning, he saw Sherry, and even though they seldom spoke to one another, he was so proud of his invention he told her all about it.
Just as they started to have one of their first real talks he heard a voice from behind begin to taunt, “Awe ain't that cute, Billy’s got a girlfriend.” He just closed his eyes, he knew what was coming. Sherry quickly walked away, she wanted no part of what was about to happen. Billy felt a forceful shove from behind, and he hit the ground. His project hit the ground with him.
Tony picked up the small trash can and said, “It figures you would make something from trash, that’s all you are.”
Another boy broke the stick off of the project and just as it began to escalate into a fight one of the teachers came out and said, “All right now, you,” pointing to Tony and his friend, “into the principal’s office and Billy you come with me to the nurse.”
Billy thought, “Great, why couldn’t she have come out five minutes earlier, before they wrecked my invention?”
Billy didn’t find out until many years later that the only reason she came out at all was that once Sherry walked inside the school and was out of view of the boys, she ran to the nearest teacher and told them he was getting beat up out on the playground.
Billy went with the teacher to the nurses’ station to have his scraped hands washed and bandaged. Once he
got inside the safety of the nurses’ office, he began to cry.
The nurse assured him “Your hands will be okay and they’ll only hurt for a few seconds after I get them cleaned.” He wasn’t crying about his hands; in fact, he couldn’t have cared any less about his scrapes; they’d heal, his invention was ruined. Billy sat in the nurses’ office while she spoke with his mother on the phone.
He thought, “I wonder what Tony invented, probably something stupid like a comb that already had grease in it so he doesn’t have to get his stupid hands all greasy or a mirror that fits inside his book so he can look at his ugly face all day.”
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While Billy was sitting there, Mr. Collins, who had heard about the incident while in the teachers’ lounge, came in to see him. Billy felt special that he had come all the way downstairs just to see if he was okay.
Billy started immediately explaining, “I’m sorry I don’t have my project, but I swear I did it, it was so cool, stupid Tony wrecked it,” he began to cry again.
Mr. Collins did his best to console him, “Calm down son, I know all about it. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you present it, it sounds like a great invention to me, and I could sure use one of those at home. I went out to the playground and picked up the report, and the project. I have to tell you son, I think you have an A-plus idea here, so that’s what your grade will be. As for those two boys, forget about them, they’ll get what’s coming to them.”
Billy beamed with pride. Shortly after that Billy’s mom arrived and was quite surprised to see him sitting there with a big smile on his face.
“Mom, I got an A plus on my project, Mr. Collins said it was a great idea.”
His mom hugged him and said, “You earned that A plus honey, it is a great idea and I’m very proud of you.” She had come to the school intending to bring him home, but he insisted on staying, he wanted everyone in the class to hear he got an A plus.
When it was finally time for fifth period Science, he was the only one who sat there with no project, but he didn’t even care. He was thrilled when he heard Mr. Collins say to the two boys involved in the playground incident “You two will be receiving failing grades due to poor sportsmanship.” Billy didn’t dare laugh out loud but boy oh boy was he laughing inside. That was one of the first times he began to understand what his mom meant when she told him he might not be able to beat people like Tony
Memories Are An Old Man's Toys Page 2
