Rebel Without a Cause

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Rebel Without a Cause Page 18

by Robert M. Lindner


  It’ll be good to get in the water again, to get in a lot of water, to get your feet way down on the bottom, way down.…

  Sometimes another family would go with us in my father’s car. They had a kid about eight with who I hung out when we went to picnics. They lived in another town and we used to pick them up on the way and take them with us. This kid and myself hung around together and watched the men have crap games. We used to spend a lot of time in the double toilets on these picnics. There was a partition between the men’s and women’s toilets and we’d go in there and spend hours looking through cracks in the wall. If we could make out somebody doing something we’d think it was great. I can’t remember this fellow’s name. When we got older, about twelve or thirteen, he gave me a watch. I lost it and my grandmother gave it to my cousin Joe when she found it. This fellow also won a shotgun in a raffle. I was going to buy it off him or steal it if I could.

  The reason I like shotguns and things like that is that I like the noise. I feel it in my hand when it shoots, the vibrations. When I had a gun on me I thought I was better than other people. Girls didn’t like guns, so in a conversation sometimes I would take it out and they would scream, they were so afraid of it. I used to have a .32 short with six or eight shells in the cylinder, the break-open type. I paid eight dollars for it. It was a small gun with a short barrel and a big handle. I used to carry ten or twelve extra bullets in my vest pocket. I’d keep it in my pocket and practice how quick I could draw it. I’d look at myself in the mirror and point it at me and see how vicious I looked. When I looked close at the barrel it looked like the mouth of a cannon.

  My mother sometimes found things in my bureau drawer, blackjacks, brass knuckles, and the parts of a gun. There was something wrong with the trigger of this gun. She almost killed me with it. She wanted to break my head. She hit me on the shoulder with it a few times and then threw it away.

  When I was twelve I had a blank gun I bought for thirty cents from a fellow and I used to put .22 shells in it. You could only put one shell in the barrel: when you shot it you had to take the empty one out and put the good ones in. I’d always remember to put my coat in the closet when I had the gun in it. One day I forgot and when I was sitting there reading or doing something I saw my mother going over to the coat. She went through the hip pockets but didn’t look in the breast pocket where it was. I was really scared that time. Later on a fellow borrowed this gun and kept it. No; I broke it. I shot it a few times and the bullets were too strong for it.

  I don’t know when I first started to carry a gun. I figured I just liked to carry it and as time went on I always wanted it with me, like a fellow would want to wear a tie or have his shirt sleeves buttoned. I don’t remember the first time I liked to play with guns. We were always playing cowboys or something like that. It reminds me of a picture in the paper where kids are playing with toy pistols in London. We were just like that. We’d make wooden guns with rubber bands and play with them. We’d steal automobile tires and cut them up and make rubber bands out of them. We had a lot of fights that way.

  I like to throw knives too. When I was older, about fifteen, I didn’t think much about guns and knives but when I was thirteen I hung around with a bunch of kids and we’d find things, like knives, and play with them. The other day I picked up a fork in the mess hall. There was a cardboard box on the table about ten feet away. I threw it left handed and it sunk right into the box. I guess it was luck. I don’t think I could ever do it again.

  When I lived at my aunt’s house there was a fellow who had one of those knives they put on the end of a gun. I can’t think of the name. It was easy to throw and when you threw it, it would stick in …

  The reason for this lapse of memory was analyzed. Unfortunately, it cannot be dealt with here.

  THE TWENTY-THIRD HOUR

  I am going to tell you good news today: we had steak for dinner; that was good.

  Patients frequently ‘telegraph’ in this way their intention to reveal material of importance.

  I just thought of this: you know, I don’t ever remember seeing my mother undressed, but where we lived at B—— Street we didn’t have a bathroom and we’d take baths in a tub in the middle of our kitchen; and when she took a bath I would see her back. I don’t think I ever saw her fully naked. I used to sleep with my sister in the cradle. She was about seven or eight I guess. After that my mother always kept us separated. When we were young I—I used to do things that were not—not exactly right. This was long before my other sister was born. When she was born I was sleeping in the parlor. We had four rooms then: my mother’s and father’s bedroom, the kitchen, the dining room and a parlor. In the parlor there was a small day-bed and a davenport. When my mother’s godfather boarded with us I slept with him on the davenport. When he wasn’t, I slept on the small bed. In my mother’s room there was a cradle. My sister used to sleep there. Sometimes both of us would play in there if we were in the cradle together and I don’t know if my mother ever knew anything or not. But when we moved from B—— Street she kept us separated.

  L: ‘What do you mean by “whether she knew anything or not,” Harold? What was it she would know?’

  I don’t know if my mother ever knew that I did anything like that to my sister.…

  Well; I guess I was about ten and my sister about eight, or maybe even younger. We lived on B—— Street and sometimes we used to go to sleep in the cradle together. It wasn’t exactly a cradle, more like a junior bed. It was big enough to hold both of us and sometimes my mother would make us take naps together, sometimes on her bed, sometimes on this cradle. When we slept together like that I used to get my hands all over her. I must have, well; I …

  My mother and father slept in the big double bed. I think my father was working driving a truck and I don’t know if we went to school then. I think I did. It was in the summer so we had to stay home and sleep in the afternoon, sometimes in the bed, sometimes in the cradle. Usually we would go to sleep together. I remember we had pillow fights and things like that. I know I …, that is, I used to put my hands all over her and, well, I—I had intercourse with her several times. At least five or more times. We slept together a lot. I think my mother knew we were doing something like that. When we moved from B—— Street we never slept together again. I think it was when we went to sleep one time and my mother came in and my sister had her legs all over me. From then on mother must have known; she never said anything though.

  I know there was some girls in the neighborhood I used to screw but I never did anything like that to my sister other than when we were sleeping together.

  I remember when I was about eight or nine how my mother used to take baths in the kitchen in a tub. Sometimes she would call me in to wash her back. I didn’t like to do it. I didn’t see her completely, but most of her body. Sometimes I didn’t want to wash her back so she’d swing around and hit me. I didn’t like to do it, but when my sister took baths I’d see her completely naked. I don’t think we ever took baths together. I know for certain of one time when we were sleeping in the cradle together that we had intercourse, and I remember dimly lots of other times.

  Sometimes when the godfather was not with us there would be another fellow boarding there. He was a guy about thirty or so. I used to wear pajamas and when I woke up in the morning my peter would be sticking out and he would hold it. I remember he would hold my peter in his hand. I was a little kid then and I would try to duck away from him when I’d see him. He was living with us when the man tried to break into the house. I don’t think he was asleep when I woke up and saw the man at the window. I guess I fell asleep again. I don’t remember much about him. I just didn’t like it when he would untie my pajamas and open them when I was asleep, holding my peter like that … I never told nobody before. I never liked to sleep with him but my mother made me.

  I never saw my father naked. O, I saw him in his underwear a lot, but not completely naked. And I never remember seeing my aunts naked.


  I do remember telling my mother, “Why don’t you get Marie to wash your back?” but she’d swing around and hit me and yell, “You do what you’re told!”

  When I was younger many times I figured that I couldn’t get along with my sister because of something I had seen or done. I knew a kid about sixteen who also laid his sister and he disliked her very much. I always thought maybe Marie dislikes me. Maybe she does. I don’t know whether she can remember back that far. I don’t think she hates me and I don’t hate her though I think something like that could create hatred.…

  When I was about ten I used to see girls partly naked, with nothing on under their dresses and sometimes they would pick them up and they were naked from the waist down. I saw lots of them, my sister too. She always hung around with some of these girls and she’d pull her dress up too. Wazeki’s sister, I’d see her a lot. I used to lay her on the bed and take most of her clothes off.

  When I was pretty small the kids in school used to talk about being under the teacher’s desk. I was underneath there once but I never saw anything so I didn’t want to be put there again. It didn’t interest me any more. The way I got to be put underneath there was this: I ran out of the class room into the cloak room knowing that the teacher would put me underneath the desk. I just knew that most of the other kids were there so I guess I wanted to go too. I stayed there about ten minutes and when the teacher came after me I talked back to her in a nasty way, kind of sarcastic, and she said, “What do you want to do, stay here all day or go under the desk for ten minutes?” So I went under the desk. When I came out the kids were all snickering and motioning to me whether I’d seen anything, and at first I didn’t say a word. I put my face in my hands and my elbows on the desk and didn’t speak a word. When the kids motioned to me I just shook my head. This was in the morning and in the afternoon I told the fellows I didn’t want to go again. I was sitting there all cramped and it hurt my neck and I didn’t see anything. After that, some kid would go under the desk occasionally and then I’d get the feeling that I wanted to do it again, but I never got to do it any more. I remember I saw part of her knee and her leg, that’s all. I don’t know if I saw anything of the white-clothes she had on; her dress was blue, I think. She wasn’t an old teacher: she was pretty young, about twenty-five or six, and she was fairly well built. I didn’t know much about build then, though. I remember one time she came over to my desk to help me out with some work, and when she bent over I could see down her dress. Not very much, but my imagination saw more. I looked down her dress and when I looked up I saw that she was staring straight at me and I didn’t know what to do. She must have figured that I was looking. She was pretty good to me, that teacher: she never hollered.

  L: ‘As a matter of fact, Harold, it is true, isn’t it, that you don’t like to look at the female genitals?’

  Yes; that’s true.

  L: ‘Do you know why?’

  I guess so. I guess my sister and my mother …

  I know why. When I went with that girl Lila on the outside, I used to play with her breasts but I would never reach under her dress and play with her genital organs. And when I laid her it was always at night, never in the day time. At night I didn’t have to see them.

  L: ‘What do the female organs remind you of?’

  The first time I saw my sister naked it reminded me of a man without a penis. The first time I saw her naked she was getting out of a bath, if I remember right, and I knew she wasn’t like myself. I didn’t see a penis. It was something strange. I never asked about it. I always got in the habit of waiting and watching to see what would happen. When I went with Lila I liked to play with her breasts but she would get so hot she’d reach inside of my pants and play with my peter; so I’d lay her down and have intercourse with her. I used to dislike seeing her skinny legs. I probably thought that it looked like a man with his penis and testes cut off.

  L: ‘Who would be most likely to have cut them off?’

  Why, the father or the mother or the doctor, or whoever helped the mother to give birth to the child. I don’t know; maybe I was scared

  Note the order of primacy in which potential castrators are placed.

  when I was young of something like that. I don’t remember just now if anybody threatened me. I know there was a young kid who was ruptured, and once my father and mother were talking in Polish about him. He told her about the belt he wore and he motioned about his body to show her. I saw it, and when he told her I understood a few words, and he motioned to show her how the belt was going around him to hold his penis up.

  I don’t know but I think that’s what most of the kids tried to see when we were in school in the class room where they were all trying to get under the teacher’s desk. The older kids used to say that it was a fur cap or a teddy bear she was hiding there. Most of the kids tried to see it.

  I don’t think I ever saw my mother completely naked. I always tried to get out of washing her back. Sometimes when she swung at me I’d see her breasts. I only saw her genitals a couple of times.

  I never saw my father completely naked.

  When I got older I got some respect for my sisters. I never did anything like that to my younger sister. Even now I treat her as a baby. When she was a couple of months old I didn’t like to look at her when she didn’t have her diapers or panties on or something. When she was covered she was like any baby, cute and sweet.

  I have a cousin named Rose who was about eight when I moved from B—— Street to S—— Street. She was living with my uncle on F—— Street and she used to come over and play with my sister. We had a back porch and between the back porch and the ground there was a foundation that held it up. It was blocked off and we had a clubhouse there, me and some of the fellows. We used to hide there and collect bottles and junk like that and we had a carpet in there. I took her in there and had intercourse with her once. That was the only time. She was a nice little girl but I never liked her after that. Then I played a lot with the girl that lived upstairs. Her name was Peg. She was about twelve, older than me at the time. I’d take her down the cellar and I liked her a lot. To me she always seemed a nice girl, pretty and everything like that. The cellar was dark and dreary and damp. I never played with her much outside, in the light. It’s only in the dark when I touch women. I guess when I got to be a little older I knew what women are for. I don’t know how I learned. I guess I learned from my cousins. I learned everything else from them.

  L: ‘Which cousins do you mean?’

  I mean my two cousins Tony and Riggs. The oldest cousin was doing time for highjacking a truck when I came in here. He’s the oldest and has a wife and child. Then there is Emma, she’s married. Tony got married before I came here and Riggs, he’ll be married soon. I dislike both of them.

  L: ‘Why do you think you dislike them?’

  I’m not sure. I remember one day Riggs wanted some little girl to suck his peter and when she hollered he told his mother I was the one. I don’t know how it worked out but I know I got a beating for it.

  L: ‘But you disliked him before that?’

  I might have. It’s all jumbled up. He tried to catch up in school with me: I was two grades ahead of him and he went to summer school and things like that. He failed several times. I am only a year older than him. Tony is a year and half older and he was only one grade ahead of me. I don’t know if that’s the time I started hating Riggs. I know I disliked him because he called me Squint. I only went with him because I had no one else to go with. I remember we used to steal things from a store across the street, apples, any kind of food that was laying around. When I quit the Boy Scouts I started hanging around the gang that he and Tony were in. I played hookey a lot with Tony when I was at St. A——’s and we’d hang around the railroad yards. Then I started with Riggs. We played hookey in High. He used to gamble a lot and most always win. I never caught him cheating but I knew he cheated. I’d see him winning all the time, and I’d take my gun out and lay it on the table next t
o me and he’d look at me and at the gun and a little while later he’d start losing. Then when I got what I wanted I’d quit. I didn’t want him to cheat me. Some times when he wanted a little money to get in a card game or crap game I gave it to him, and when he’d win we’d buy cigarettes and spend the afternoon in a show. That way I got along with him.

  One time we were thinking of holding up a bank. He wanted some money and I was out for the same thing. There were a lot of bank hold-ups going on then around our town and we thought we’d plan one too. I told him I could get an automatic rifle and we’d buy some shotguns and saw the barrels off. But I was always afraid that he’d squeal or something. I would never trust him even though I would go with him. I was always watching and waiting for something to happen. I came here before we could pull that job. We were figuring on a lot of things then. We were going to try and hold up some armored-car guards when they walked in places to collect money. We couldn’t get the cars so we were going to get the guards. If we had a couple sawed-off shotguns we figured they’d be afraid. But I didn’t trust Riggs very far. I knew he’d let me down: he’s done it time and time again. He’s more the burglary type.…

 

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