by Ed Nelson
Mum suggested that for my typing practice I copy each of the letters in the Blackhoof collection. If nothing else I could use them as supporting evidence in some of the papers I would be writing. She planned on calling information in Oklahoma City to see if they had a phone number for the Shawnee Tribe so she could get their headquarters address.
Mum also had another suggestion, “Rick, you should take time to be a freshman.”
“What do you mean Mum? I’m a freshman.”
“How do the kids your age spend their time?”
I thought for a moment, “Go to class, play sports, hang out, go on dates, listen to music, go to movies. Stuff like that.”
“Have you done any of those things this year?”
“I have done every one of those. Why are you asking about this?”
“Rick, part of maturing and growing is socialization, learning to get along, with your age group, then others. You are all going through changes both mental and physical. You are a very driven person and have accomplished a great deal in the last few months. But they are things that an older person would do. I’m afraid you’re missing out on your teenage years and the socialization that goes with it.”
Dad wisely sat there with his mouth shut. You could tell he had no idea of where this was going.
“Learning Spanish and typing, being far ahead in classwork, over achieving in school, and inventing things are all good. But this isn’t what kids your age are doing. They are dating and hanging around, and yes, they get into some trouble, but they are being socialized as they do those things. You act like you’re above all that, but you aren’t.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Have some friends your age. Go on dates with girls you like, not girls that are using you. Do you realize that every girl that you have gone out with except for Judy was using you for their own ends? They didn’t want you, they wanted what you represented. You are a status item.”
“How do I tell the difference?”
“Experience.”
“How do I get experience?”
“Find a girl you like and ask her out.”
“What if she says no?”
“Then you have obtained some experience.”
“What if I ask a girl out and it turns out she only said yes because I have status?”
“Then you have gained more experience.”
“Mum!”
“Rick you are proving my point. If you don’t gain this experience now while you are young it will be really painful when you’re older.”
“When I’m older I should be smarter about such things.”
“Rick the only way to get smarter is to gain experience. Your I.Q. is just your I.Q. it won’t change now. Just remember it is easier to break up with your steady girlfriend than divorce your wife. I’m not only talking about your relationships with girls. What about your relationship with boys your age? I know you walk to school and spend some time with Tom, who else?”
“No one,” I replied quietly.
“I know you relate well with adults, but you do that by giving them respect, should you give that respect to your peers?”
“The kids in my class haven’t earned that respect.”
“So you know that you have to deal with the kids in your class differently than with adults, but you don’t spend any time with them. How will you gain that experience? The adults are going to get older and go away. The kids in your class will be with you your entire life. Not them as individuals, but as a group.”
“I have never given that any thought.”
“That is all I’m asking. Think this through and decide what you’re going to do about it.”
“I will Mum, but it seems cold and calculating to ask a girl out because you want to gain experience dating.”
“That is the wonder of it Rick, asking a girl out is like a gamble. Is she the one? You will never know unless you ask her. She will never know unless she says yes. Both sides have something at risk. For a girl the most horrid possibility is if she falls in love and the guy turns out to be a total loser.”
“Why would anyone date with those possibilities in mind?” I asked.
“Rick, do you like to have your arms around a girl?” Mum asked with a semi-evil grin.
“I do,” I said reluctantly, I wasn’t about to say why I really liked having my arms around a girl.
“Girls like to be in a guy’s arms. That is what it is all about. Everything else is about getting the right girl in the right boy’s arms. At your age it is hard to figure out which one is right. That is why so many kids come together for a short time them break up.
It is easier the younger you are, getting a diamond ring back is a lot harder than a class ring. That is why you need to learn the mating dance now.”
“Okay I get the girl thing. Now why do I have to be friends with guys my age?”
“You are already past the young boy definition of friends where you almost live with each other. As you get older you won’t have friends like that. What you will have is a circle of men that have similar interests and whom you can call on in need.
I don’t mean to borrow money, I mean to help find a patent attorney or a new office building or a Russian translator or even move furniture.”
She continued, “You will need a circle that you have some trust in and go to as needed. The same way they will be able to come to you. That doesn’t just happen you have to work at it. Guess where you are supposed to be getting that experience right now?”
“So I need to develop those circles now?”
“NO! You need to practice now so you can do it later. It’s very doubtful that the kids you are going to school with today will be in your circles later. Just look at Jack and I. His friends from school all live in different states and mine live in different countries.”
“Mum this is a lot to think about. I will think about it and try to do something.”
“That’s all I ask, Rick. I just want what’s best for you and right now I am concerned about your relating with people your age.”
School was interesting. I looked at all the other freshman differently. I took a long look at each of the girls wondering if I would like to date them. I looked at each of the guys reviewing what I knew about them and wondering if they could be a friend.
I looked at each of the girls and how they looked. I looked at each of the girls and thought about what I knew about them and if they were nice. I looked at each of the girls, well you get it.
One guy that I thought I would get to know better was Tom Wilson, the class clown or maybe not really the class clown. He had shown a much more serious side that I could relate to last week. I would have to spend some time talking with him.
Girls were a different problem. I was getting it narrowed down. There were now only about twenty on my short list. I was thinking about them in Latin class when I was called on. I had no idea where we were in the class.
I knew Miss Audie well enough to say, “Sorry, I was not paying attention.”
She replied, “That was obvious I asked you a question about fifteen minutes ago. You didn’t respond, so I held my figure to my lips to have the class be quiet. It took three questions to get your attention. Why don’t you think about it in detention tonight?”
She handed me my detention slip, which I had to return to her signed by Mr. Hurley tomorrow. Mum was right, this boy girl stuff was hard, and it had already had me in trouble.
I even made a list in study hall. I gave each girl a rating in looks and personality as I saw them. By doing this I pared my list down to five pretty to me, girls that had at least an eight on personality. I also kept a list of all twenty girls. I wasn’t sure how to proceed from there. I was trying to be scientific.
I went to detention to spend my time. It was forty five minutes. Five minutes into it Mr. Hurley had a student from the office show up with a note. His presence was required. He told us to keep it to a dull roar and he would be right back.
So, of course all of us set our books aside and talked to those around us. Cheryl Hawthorne was sitting next to me. I didn’t know her; she was a new transfer in. We introduced ourselves then spent the time chatting.
She was kind of cute, being tall, thin, dark haired with the largest eyes you could imagine. Her face would be described as fine featured with high cheek bones. She had not made my list of the twenty best looking girls because I hadn’t thought of her, but she wasn’t bad.
I asked her what she had done to get detention. It appears she was late to one of Miss Bales English classes. I told her I had been busted daydreaming in Latin. She commented at least I wasn’t just plain dreaming, she thought that must be the most boring class in school.
I told her that having Latin was turning out to be a good underpinning for Spanish as you could see where words had come from. She rattled off a phrase in Spanish.
“Do you speak it very well?”
“Not that good but a little.”
“Where are you learning it?”
I proceeded to tell her about Mrs. Hernandez. She became a little excited.
“My mother is Spanish. Dad married her in Spain when he was stationed there in the Air Force. She would love to meet someone who can speak Spanish. Her English is pretty good, but she would love to hold an adult conversation with another woman.”
“Why don’t you bring her over to my house and I will introduce them.”
“Could we do it tomorrow?”
“I will check tonight. What is your phone number?”
“513-555-6693; let me write it down for you.” As she handed me her phone number Mr. Hurley came back into the room. The phone number was on a plain sheet of paper that she hadn’t folded so he saw it as he walked by.
Mr. Hurley shook his head and said something about fast workers.
When I returned home I planned to start the project of typing out the letters from the various Presidents, Kings, and high officials that had been written to Chief Blackhoof. They all had a common thread. We will be your friend forever. We respect your land, till the grass is no longer green and the sun doesn’t rise, and oh by the way can we have this little bit?
Dad used the term, “Nibbled to death by ducks.”
That is what happened to the Indians, it took two hundred years but the eastern tribes were nibbled to death.
Mum told me she had the address of the Shawnee Tribe in Oklahoma so I could write that letter anytime. I did that first. I let the photographs speak for themselves. I told the Shawnee that I had come across papers and medals by accident and gave a brief history of how it came about.
I told them that since they appeared to be the rightful owners and to avoid all the legal problems that I would prefer to hand them to the Shawnee directly.
I addressed it to, “The Office of the Chief of the Shawnee.” I had no idea what they called the head person of the tribe but this would get it to the right people. I signed the letter. I asked Mum to review it before I sealed the envelope. She thought it was fine and would get Dad to drop it off at the post office tomorrow.
I told her about Mrs. Hawthorne wanting to meet another person who really spoke Spanish and asked if she could stop over tomorrow to meet Mrs. Hernandez.
“It is fine with me, but does Mrs. Hernandez want to meet anyone? You had better ask her.”
As soon as Mrs. Hernandez arrived I asked her. You would’ve thought I had given her an extra birthday present.
“Oh yes, Rick. I would love to talk to another woman in my native language. You don’t know how hard it is at times to be alone like I am.”
We read the Cuban newspaper. Our papers were dated. On December 19 Che Guevara’s brigade captured the city of Fomento. Mrs. Hernandez had brought a map of Cuba and we had been following Castro’s progress.
She was very concerned about the whole situation. She understood why the U.S. government had stopped supplying arms to Batista but in doing so they had opened the door to the communist Castro.
She didn’t understand why the U.S. newspapers all supported Castro when everyone knew he was a Communist. He was getting his money and arms from the communist revolutionaries who had just taken over Venezuela. She wanted Cuba to be free, not to exchange one dictator for another.
After Mrs. Hernandez left I called Cheryl and invited her and her mother over tomorrow after school to meet Mrs. Hernandez. I was looking forward to Cheryl coming over. She seemed very nice and I thought that maybe she should be on my list.
Tuesday was clear and cold, below twenty degrees, with very little wind. If this kept up we would have the best ice skating ever. The pond would have no snow and the ice would be smooth as glass, at least until we started skating on it.
There was nothing special going on at school this week other than Christmas vacation would start next week. I sat and talked to Tom Wilson at lunch. He seemed surprised when I asked him if the seat next to him was taken. As the official class clown, everyone liked Tom but kept a little distance as they didn’t want to be caught in the fallout.
“Tom, maybe you could help me sort something out. I have made a list of the attractive girls in our class and also rated them on personality. I want to ask at least one of them out on a date.”
He looked at me like I had two heads.
“Rick, I knew you were very smart from a book point of view. I just never knew how stupid you were in the real world.”
That raised my back up real quick!
“What do you mean stupid in the real world?”
“What do you think would happen if that list leaked out and it is known as your list?”
“I suppose some girls might be upset because they are not on the list.”
“Yeah there would be some hurt because they are not on the list. The girls on the list would all be mad as hell.”
“What do you mean?”
“How many girls total in our class and how many made your list?
“There are around eighty girls and I have twenty on my list.”
“So you have hurt the feelings of sixty girls. Of the twenty on the list only the number one girl won’t be mad at you. Of course the rest of the girls in the class will be mad at her, so she will be mad at you because you made them mad at her.”
“I think I can follow what you just said.”
“Then there are the eighty something boys in our class. Maybe forty of the boys will have girlfriends ragging on them about your list. The other forty won’t care one way or the other.
Now you have one hundred and twenty out of one hundred and sixty classmates angry with you. I think I would change my name and move to another town.”
“Surely you are exaggerating.”
“Well one way to find out, is to sign it and leave it here.”
“I think I will pass on that.”
“Good man, there is hope for you yet. Why are you doing this anyway?”
So I told Tom about my different dates and how I would like to date a girl that likes me for being me.
“Oh, that’s simple. Pick a girl you would like to date and that hasn’t been nasty to you. Let me know, I will tell her best friend you would like to ask the girl out. She will give her friend her answer; the friend will tell me that it is okay for you to ask her out. I will tell you. You ask her out. You get along or don’t. Rinse and repeat till you find a keeper.”
“That seems like a game.”
“It also prevents feelings from getting hurt. What would happen if you asked a girl out and she said no?”
“I would ask another one.”
“Okay and if she said no?”
“I would ask another one.”
“You know everyone talks, word would get around that you have been rejected. Now do you think the next girl that you ask would want to date a known reject?”
“I get your point. Thanks Tom, you have given me a lot to think about.”
“That’s okay. Do you want your dessert?”
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br /> “Nah, I hate this gelatin stuff especially the orange.”
“I love it, thanks and see you later.”
That did give me a lot to think about. I wasn’t convinced he was right in how he described it would work. Dad wasn’t home so I asked Mum if she had a minute. She did so I explained to her my list and what Tom had said would happen. Her response was pretty strong.
“Put that list in a burn bag as quick as you can. Tom is exactly correct on how it would be viewed. He is also correct on how you safely get dates at your age. You have enough going for you that you probably could get away with a rejection or two, but I would rather you not be that arrogant.”
As they say in geometry, theory postulated, hypothesis confirmed. I didn’t know that Mum read spy fiction, how else would she know what a burn bag was? I did tear up the list.
Right on time Mrs. Hernandez showed up as the Hawthornes were ringing the doorbell. I performed all the introductions.
Then Cheryl and I escaped to the basement where the other kids had gathered for our Spanish class. I introduced her to the boys and Mary. She and Mary hit it off immediately. It was like they were sisters.
As we were waiting on the women upstairs, I had a chance to talk to Cheryl. She was very easy to talk to. We discussed our classes and teachers. Surprisingly we both liked Miss Bales and Mr. Hurley, two of the more unpopular teachers.
We thought they were strict but very fair. Well except for my first detention. When I told Cheryl about that she thought it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.
When she was done laughing she asked me.
“Rick, who is the kid they call The Cowboy?”
Chapter 33
“I have no idea I don’t know anyone in school with that nickname.”
“Maybe I misunderstood my Dad. He is the new Commander at the airbase. He told me I could date any boy, but that blankity blank Cowboy. He was involved in some incident out at the base. It is why my Dad the Colonel is now in Command. Anyway he said he doesn’t want me anywhere near that guy.”
Just then the ladies came down stairs, so I was saved from having to answer. The introductions had been made and phone numbers exchanged. Mrs. Hawthorne had come down to collect Cheryl. It gave me a moment to think. I knew I had to speak up. The longer I waited the worse it would be.
