Me 'n Norman

By Mike Marshall

A sweet and often humorous collection of autobiographical stories about the childhood friendship of two young boys and their adventures growing up together during the 1930's Depression in a U.S. Naval shipyard town.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Marshall
• Release date: Jan 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370503827

Mike Marshall

Now who is this Mike Marshall? A pirate, a pauper, never a king–although I did have a queen–a cowboy, a cop, a pilot, a race car driver, a calluses-on-my-shoulder-blades auto and aircraft mechanic, a down hill skier, a bicycle tourist, a blacksmith, a florist, and a retail store owner. My highest points were as a dad, a grandpa, and a great grandpa. My best gig was for 43 years staying married to my best friend and business partner, a fantastic-looking blonde honey, show-stopping ballroom dance partner and mother of my children. And now at 88, I'm an aspiring writer.

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Me 'n Norman

By

Mike Marshall

Copyright 2017 by Mike Marshall

Published by Mike Marshall at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - The Sunbathing Incident

Chapter 2 - The Air Attack

Chapter 3 - The Poison Everything Adventure

Chapter 4 - Frontier Scouts

Chapter 5 - Him, Him, and Hymn

Chapter 6 - Trouble Won't Go Away

Chapter 7 - The Birthday Party

Chapter 8 - The Assault On My Bike

Chapter 9 - The Ballad of Wyoming Jake

Chapter 10 - The Pugilist

Chapter 11 - Halloween

Chapter 12 - Christmas

Chapter 13 - Valentine's Day

Chapter 14 - As All Good Things Must

About Mike Marshall

Chapter 1

The Sunbathing Incident

In the summer of 1935, probably in June or July, in Vallejo, California, I was seven years old. The nation was just coming out of the Great Depression. We lived in the old part of town, by no means a ghetto but not the nicest either. The kids in those days pretty much stayed and played in their own neighborhoods. The thought being, as my grandfather often told me, to stay with your own kind.

Now on our street there was Me 'n Norman, we were neighbors and best friends. Down the street was Helen Lewis, a little older than we were. She was really a very nice girl, but we weren’t her cup of tea. Directly across the street was Richard, more about him later. Around the corner lived two of my cousins, Margie and Charlie. Down the block and around the other corner was Jack. All the rest of the kids were of Navy families. Navy kids for the most part stayed to themselves.

Vallejo was a Navy town. The Mare Island Naval Shipyard was the heart of the city. The Navy kids’ dads were usually assigned to or stationed at Mare Island or stationed on ships in for repair or overhaul. For that reason, they usually didn’t live here very long. Usually they moved along to another duty station after only a few months. More than that, we learned very early on not to mess with the Navy kids. Almost all of them had bigger brothers and we didn’t want to get into a scuffle with a kid who had a big brother. Worse than that, was getting into a scuffle with a kid who had a big sister. They could really hit hard and with a girl smacking you around, we were in big trouble because we didn’t dare hit back. More than that, sometimes they would even bite. So for this reason, although we didn’t play together much, we all got along very well.

Now, Me 'n Norman were more than neighbors, we were best friends. We were the same age and did everything together. We had a bond like brothers. It was this bond that allowed us to have an occasional fight and still be best friends.

During this time kids did not have babysitters or programs to entertain them. We were expected to know right from wrong and stay out of trouble. We had to invent our own entertainment. And that, dear friends, is probably why we got into a little trouble once in a while, never anything serious, just a little mischief.

Now let me tell you about Richard, Richard Mulcahey! He was a year older than Me 'n Norman. He was a first-generation American-born Irish. Richard was different in every way. Me 'n Norman and most all of the kids wore bib overalls or blue jeans. The blue jeans that we wore were not to be confused with or even compared to the designer jeans that kids wear today. But Richard, Richard wore knickers. Corduroy knickers, a white shirt and to top it off, his mother made him wear a bow tie. He looked like Alfalfa in the Our Gang, or Little Rascals comedy movies. When he played with any of the kids in the neighborhood, if he didn’t get his own way about everything, he would run home and tell his mother tall tales. He would claim that one or some of the kids had been mean to him or hit him. More often than not he would blame Me 'n Norman. We didn’t even have to be on the street and we still got blamed. We were his favorite targets. For these accusations or transgressions into the sacred realm of his highness, Richard, his Mother would stand on her front porch and yell at us. Then on extreme occasions she would even chase us. Soon it was hard to tell which was more fun, picking on Richard (he usually provoked it), or being chased by his mother yelling at us in her heavy Irish brogue.

One day about mid morning (time of day wasn’t important, if it wasn’t mealtime we didn’t care what time it was), Helen came walking by and stopped to talk to us. She had been away on vacation. Neither of us had ever gone away on a real vacation, we just figured that her family was richer than ours, and that was OK. The big thing was that she had a tan. A tan! Wow! At that time even the rich families didn’t have swimming pools and we were a whole day’s drive from any beach. City kids of that era just didn’t have tans.

It was no secret to anyone, except maybe Helen, that Richard had a crush on her. Any time we would talk to her he would come across the street a few minutes later and demand to know everything she said. This time, as soon as Helen was out of sight, here comes Richard. And as usual he wanted to know what we had been talking about. We asked if he had noticed her tan. He had, and the image in his mind drove him a little nuts. I don’t know what possessed us, but we told him that Helen had been sunbathing in her backyard and that she was tan all over.

His eyes snapped open wider and he gulped. So we went another step. We told him she sunbathed NAKED. We had no idea if she really sunbathed in her backyard or anywhere else, much less in the nude.

For a moment we thought he was going to begin frothing at the mouth. We knew we had him hooked, Honest, Richard, no kidding, she is, she’s tan all over.

That evening after dinner, Dad was reading his paper, Mom was reading her Liberty magazine and we all were listening to the radio, Amos and Andy was just coming on. Suddenly there was a loud knocking at our door. Before Dad could get up the knocking came again, knock, knock, knock, Dad grumbled, All right, all right, I’m coming.

Then again, knock, knock, knock and the voice of Richard’s mother came through the door. In her heavy Irish brogue she demanded, Open this door, I know you’re in there.

I would have run but I didn’t know where to run to. To the bathroom? That was always a sanctuary. But not this time, my grandmother was in there. The next safest place was close behind my dad.

Dad knew instantly it was Mrs. Mulcahey. As he was reaching for the door knob he looked down at me, Now what did you guys do to Richard this time? He didn’t necessarily wait for an answer at that moment and he opened the door.

There stood Richard standing in front of his mother framed by her long black skirt. Almost in unison he and his mother crossed their arms across their chests. Richard stuck out his tongue at me, and lifted his chin, Now you’re going to get it.

Then came the tirade. In something just half an octave below a scream she began, I want you to thrash that little spalpine (pointing a bony finger at me). He and that Hy-trallian (Italian) chum of his tried to lead this darlin' child to the brink of sins of the flesh.

Dad bit down hard not to laugh, he turned and looked at me and gathered his composure, then looked at Richard who was standing there with his arms folded mimicking his mother with his chin raised triumphantly believing that my dad really would thrash me right on the spot.

Dad paused a moment longer and when he had control of the laugh fighting to get out, he looked back to Richard’s mother, OK, as soon as Amos and Andy is over I’ll look into it. He closed the door before she could say anything more. He stood there looking at the closed door for a moment shaking his head and then turned to me: Do you know what she means by a sins of the flesh?

I was never disciplined or got a whack that I didn’t deserve and I would never even dream of lying to my mom or dad. This time I wasn’t sure what kind of ground I was on, but as always, only the truth would do. I stammered, No sir.

He went back to his chair, gave a little laugh and settled in again. All the while my mom had not moved from her chair. She folded her magazine. She and Dad exchanged stoic glances and Mom began, Sins of the flesh? OK Mikey, let’s hear it.

Now keep in mind, this all happened a long time ago, and as near as I can remember this is how it happened.

After lunch that afternoon, the day after we had been talking to Helen, and we had told Richard the fabricated story about her tan. Me 'n Norman were sitting on the curb in front of my house. Across the street we could see Richard standing on his front porch staring at us. Soon he sauntered across the street doing his best to be nonchalant. We knew the thought of seeing Helen sunbathing naked was driving him crazy. Shucks, any thought of Helen always drove him a little, or maybe a lot, nuts.

Richard stood in front of us with his hands behind his back and his feet wide spread, You were lying. You always lie.

Norman and I exchanged offended glances. Norman stood up, and was standing nose to nose with Richard glaring at him. Richard took a cautious step back.

Norman squared his shoulders just like we had seen the tough guys in the Saturday movies do just before they punched the bad guy. Norman growled (as best a seven-year old could growl), Lied, lied about what?

Richard took another step back, About Helen’s tan! She doesn’t sunbathe naked in the backyard.

I stood trying my best to look hurt by the notion that we would lie to him, Honest, Richard, we were coming down the alley behind Helen’s house. We heard her back screen door slam, so we decided to have a look through the fence.

Norman joined in, We watched while she put out a blanket on the ground and then we almost died. She was wearing a robe, she took it off and she was bare-naked! When she lay on the blanket we couldn’t see her any more.

Norman and I nodded in agreement. It was my turn again, That’s right. We saw her. She really is tan all over.

Poor Richard, he probably had never even seen a girl in a bathing suit, much less a picture of a naked woman. He probably had never even seen a National Geographic magazine. To say that he had lived a very protected life is somewhat of an understatement.

Norman put his hand on Richard’s shoulder. Richard glanced down at his hand and for a moment he looked like a deer in headlights. Norman nodded in an effort to be a buddy and put him at ease, Richard, you’re a pal. So, next time we know that Helen is sunbathing in her back yard we’ll come get you so that you can see for yourself.

We turned and left Richard standing in the street staring off into space. His mind was racing with fantasy. His problem was that he didn’t know what to fantasize about. As soon as we were out of his sight we nearly fell on the ground laughing.

An hour or so later we saw Richard walking home from the store. We seized on the opportunity to share!

Richard! Take that stuff home and meet us in the alley right away!

Richard stared at us. His mouth hung open for a moment and then he whispered, Helen?

We turned and ran to my house. Our yard was a short