The Black Bridge

By Jimmy James Jr.

Jimmy, a boy growing up in Idaho and Canada, with parents from both countries, finds adventure in almost everything. His time is spent between his home in Bonners Ferry, Idaho and his relatives in British Columbia, Canada. It is a time of discovery and learning, and he soaks it up like a sponge. His friends and family play an important part of his life, and he has a multitude of both, so his experiences are diverse. Come and join him on this third new adventure in a series called 'A Time Before Facebook', and I hope you like it. There will be many more books to follow.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jimmy James Jr.
• Release date: Sep 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463301876

Jimmy James Jr.

Jimmy James Jr. was born on August 27, 1952 in Creston, BC (British Columbia), Canada. He is the oldest of three brothers born to James Sr. (deceased), and his wife Marlene. Their other two children were Donny (deceased) and Mikey. After his father was killed in 1957, Jimmy Jr's. mother remarried Jerry Lee from Washington State, and they had four more children; Kelly, Connie, Patricia and Mark.Although Jimmy Jr. had always wanted to write during his younger years, the necessities of life always seemed to get into the way. Between managing a career and playing bass guitar in various bands, there just never seemed to be the time to write. He was married twice, and after the two divorces, he spent much of his time working and raising his three children. His oldest son Paul’s mother was Nancy, and was Jim’s hometown sweetheart. His second son Jesse’s mother, Janice, was a singer who Jim met in Courtenay, BC when he was the bass player in a local country band.It was not until 2011, after almost 33 years working in Government, that he retired and was finally able to find adequate time to begin his new career - writing. His daughter Harmonie graduated from high school the same month that he retired, and left to begin her new life at University.This first book and the following volumes are biographical stories about a young boy growing up in Bonners Ferry, a small town in Northern Idaho. They begin with his first memories of his family and friends, and continue through his high school years when the family moved north across the border to Creston, BC.He would like to thank his mother, Marlene, for assisting with the primary editing and his dear friend Linka for doing the intensive editing. Also Kasey for her fantastic book cover artwork.Jimmy is currently living the winter months in Mexico and nearby warmer climates; and the summer months on his boat in British Columbia.

Book preview

A Time Before Facebook -

The Black Bridge

By Jimmy James Jr.

Copyright 2018 Jimmy James Jr.

Smashwords Edition

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER, TITLE

INTRODUCTION

Chapter 1, THE DANCE

Chapter 2, NEW FRIENDS

Chapter 3, MATCHGUNS

Chapter 4, MERYL’S BIG FISH

Chapter 5, THE BIG ‘B’

Chapter 6, THE BLACK BRIDGE

Chapter 7, THE SPORTSMAN TAVERN

Chapter 8, EARACHES, STYES AND OTHER STUFF

Chapter 9, THE BABYSITTER

Chapter 10, THE PORTHILL TAVERN

Chapter 11, SNOW FORTS

Chapter 12, WINTER ON THE MILLPOND

Chapter 13, THE PIANO RECITAL

Chapter 14, TRIP TO KENNEWICK

Chapter 15, I SAW SANTA CLAUS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

*****

A Time Before Facebook

The Black Bridge

*****

INTRODUCTION

I am writing these stories so my children can get a small glimpse of the lives of some of their relatives who they were never able to meet. I can’t give them direct memories, but at least I can give them an idea of what these amazing people were like, and the effect that they had on my life while I was growing up.

I was so young when I visited my great-grandparents that my memories of them are vague, at best, and I wish that I had a clearer recollection of their lives to pass on to my children and grandchildren. My daughter only briefly met her Great Grandpa Bicca on one occasion, and by that time, all of her great-grandparents had already passed away, before she could get to know them even a little.

Thanks to my daughter for naming this, and future books in this series. Also, thank you to my mother for her valuable historical input and clarification, and my dear friend Linka for her work with the final editing.

The photo used on the cover of this book is courtesy of the Union Pacific Railroad, and was taken by IERHS (Empire Railroad Historical Society) member, Ted Holloway, in 1979 in Bonners Ferry, Idaho. It displays a Howe Truss timber bridge over the Kootenai River. The bridge was replaced in 1985. Ted has passed on, but this photo should live forever and be a small reminder of his photographic skills.

Although these books are all interconnected, they come from memories of my distant childhood, and I must apologize for bouncing back and forth in time periodically. All of the people, places and events are real, however, some of the names have been changed out of respect for people’s right to privacy.

THE DANCE

I have always wanted to be a good dancer. You know, a dancer like Fred Astaire, gliding effortlessly around the floor like he did with Ginger Rogers. It’s too bad we are not all created the same. Some of us are good at math, some are good at running, some are good at giving speeches and some lucky ones, are just naturally good at dancing. Not me!

Don’t get me wrong, until this point in my life I really hadn’t even tried dancing with anyone to a great extent, so you probably wouldn’t call me a bad dancer - yet. I danced a few times with Mom at weddings and stuff, but that really wasn’t dancing. She seemed to know what she was doing, and I simply followed her as she spun me around in circles. I did pretty well though; I think.

In my mind, I was positive I could be as good a dancer as Fred or Ginger one day. Those two made it look so easy and it seemed like their feet didn’t even touch the floor, so I knew it couldn’t be that difficult. I frequently pictured myself humming the music and flowing gently around the dance floor just like Fred. I was learning how to play the piano pretty good now, so I knew I had some rhythm in me. I should be able to learn how to dance. How hard could it be?

This past year had been very traumatic for me, and if I could dance my way through it, I sure would have. Summer had started out well with our new cabin up at Kootenay Lake in Canada, but things went downhill upon our return to Idaho. First, on my birthday, my dog and best friend Blackie had died. This was the first death of someone close to me that I had experienced in my life since my father five years earlier. His death seemed like a distant memory now.

Things seemed to go even further downhill with the multiple bee stings Lenis Slage and I received trying to rid his house of a huge hornet’s nest. Oh, and one day we almost accidentally killed my brother Kelly with my new BB gun. What more could go wrong? Life had to get better somehow.

Not only had a lot of bad things happened recently, but it seemed like somehow life was getting much busier for me. Have you ever noticed that little things can demand your time, and as these little things add up, before you know it, you have less and less time to do the things you need to? At only ten years old, this phenomenon was already starting to affect my life, and at times I felt completely overwhelmed.

Now that I was going to be starting school at a totally different new school all the way across town, I would be spending a lot more time traveling back and forth. Actually, this would take up a lot more of Mom’s time too, because she would be the one driving me and picking me up a lot of the time. Luckily she had her new Chevrolet Impala, and this wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience for her.

After a summer off, Mom had once again signed me up for my fourth year of piano lessons. I hope she wasn’t wasting her money. Although I was getting better at reading music and playing songs, I just wasn’t as inspired with the piano as she was. I believe it had something to do with the selection of songs my music teacher made me play. If they had been some of my favorite songs, or even one of the songs that I may have heard and loved in my short life, I might have actually been happy to learn and play them.

You know, like songs by Johnny Horton. He was my favorite. Actually, my Uncle Richie in Creston had been listening to some new music by artists like Jan and Dean, Elvis Presley, The Everly Brothers and many more that I was starting to like a little too. There were some new artists coming out from the southern USA that were pretty good too. Like Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, Chubby Checker and others. Now, some of these new songs might inspire me to play the piano.

But no, the songs I had to learn were songs that had absolutely no meaning to me, and in fact, I didn’t even like them after I learned to play them. Songs like When the Saints Come Marching In, and I can’t remember the name of some other silly boogie song. To add insult to injury, this year the teacher had planned a Christmas Recital, and I would have to play one of these despicable songs in front of my parents, family and the entire world. God, life just wasn’t fair sometimes.

In addition to traveling all the way across town to my new school, I was going to become a real live Boy Scout this year. This meant Boy Scout meetings once a week, and work bees on some weekends to keep our camping gear in good shape and earn money for the pack. At least the Mormon Church, and Boy Scouts was just across the street from my new school. But, of course, that meant possibly one more trip across town if I went home for supper first.

Oh, and did I forget, not only did I have piano lessons once a week and Boy Scouts twice a week, our family was still trying to become Mormons. This meant church every Sunday, and after church, Bible Study. The only thing I really liked about Bible Study was that we got to sing songs almost every week. Even though there were a lot of songs out there that I didn’t like, I did in fact like music.

It was absolutely amazing that I didn’t really like piano lessons, but I obviously had music in my soul in one way or another. To this day, I cannot play music on the piano by reading the notes. I can still remember a few small musical selections that I learned some fifty years ago. To top that off, for some reason, the songs I hated before, I actually don’t mind at all today.

I not only remember how to play these little ditties, I have other songs drilled into my mind from the 1960s. For example, the first is a TV commercial we used to watch on our first black and white television. Because we lived in northern Idaho, they sent our primary TV channel out over the airwaves from Spokane, Washington. The commercial that won’t leave my mind to this day was about heating oil for homes. It described the best and cheapest heating oil company in Spokane and ended with the following, If you need heating oil, call Boyle, Fairfax 8-1521. Can you believe it, I still remember the melody, their name, and their telephone number for goodness sakes. Okay, I definitely have music in my bones - or perhaps just in my mind.

Another of these little songs I remember came from my weekly Sunday school meetings. It was a song that we sang almost every week and was absolutely ridiculous. That may be why I have remembered it all this time. It went like this: I looked out my window and what did I see, popcorn popping on the apricot tree. How weird is that?

I guess I must have to admit, I not only had some kind of musical ability while growing up, but I also had an aptitude for remembering numbers. This must be why I was later good with math, and even later, great at accounting - just like my father. Anyway, you probably get the message. My ten-year-old life was starting to get busy, and I was sure it would get even busier as time went on.

Anyway, the Labor Day weekend was over and it was time to start my first day at Valley View High School all the way across town. It was going to be a very busy morning for Mom. Donny was starting Grade 3 at the Northside Elementary (my old school), and Mikey was starting Grade 1 at the same school. I guess Mom would be loading all three kids into the car this morning.

It made sense to drop Donny and Mikey off at school first because their school, my old school, was the closest to our house. But first Mom would have to get Kelly and my new little sister Connie, ready and into the car. Kelly was almost three years old now, and Connie was almost one. If we would have had a babysitter in the neighborhood, it would have been easier for Mom to just leave these two little ones at home, but no such luck.

Somehow she got us all dressed in our new school clothes, fed, washed up and loaded in the car. We actually might make it to our schools on time before the first bell went off. Donny, Mikey and I rode in the back seat, and when we arrived at the Northside Elementary School, I had a wave of emotion come over me. I would never ever be going to this school again. I had so many fond memories of this school and would sure miss it.

This was the first school that Roy and I attended together, and where I had met many of my best friends. Speaking of Roy, I saw him and Moochie in the schoolyard as we stopped to drop off Donny and Mikey. This would be Roy’s last year at this school before coming over to Valley View next year to join me. Roy noticed us and smiled and waved at me. I did the same.

God, it had only been just over a week since Blackie had died, and I knew I would get over it one day, but it was sure sad now that he was gone. I remembered all the days of Roy and me and Blackie and Moochie all walking to school together. There was no way the dogs were going to let us walk to school alone, so they always ended up following us.

Sure we had tried to scold them and send them home when they first tried to tag along, but this was obviously one time that they wouldn’t listen to us. Well, actually, they may not have listened to us other times too, but this was a dangerous trip to follow us on, and one where they should have listened. Our route to school would take us along quite a few very busy streets. School mornings were busy with kids on bikes, parents driving their children in cars, and buses coming and going. It wasn’t a time for dogs to be on the road.

But they wouldn’t listen to us, and we finally just gave up. What could we do, lock them up at home? Actually, I never thought of it, but I could have put Blackie in the garage before I left for school. Oh well, Roy and Moochie and Blackie and I started walking to school together; and sometime later, Donny started coming with us. Once we got to school, we would say goodbye to the dogs when the bell rang, and they would wait until we got into the building before heading back home.

They must have found a safe way to get home because they never did get hit by a car or injured on any of these excursions. When we would arrive home, they would usually both be over at Roy’s house or mine. I was always amazed that they didn’t somehow know what time school got out and come and meet us. Blackie and Moochie had become as good of friends as Roy and I had, and it must have been hard on Moochie, too, when Blackie died.

Anyway, back to school. Mikey had gone to Kindergarten last year, so he was familiar with the Northside Elementary School already. As Donny and Mikey exited the car, Mom said to Donny, Take Mikey’s hand Donny and make sure he finds his new classroom. Do you want me to come in with you?

No Mommy, I am big now and know where Mikey’s class is. I can show him, Donny replied seriously, as he and Mikey started walking in the general direction of Roy and Moochie.

Roy and Donny started talking excitedly and Mikey stood holding Donny’s hand, looking around aimlessly. I knew Roy would take care of my two little brothers for me, now that Lenis and all the other big kids were already at Valley View. Speaking of Valley View, as we drove off towards the silver bridge, I started getting slight anxiety thinking about attending this new school. My palms started sweating.

Sure I’d seen it a hundred times before because it was straight across the street from the Mormon Hall where I went to scouts and church. I had seen the building lots, but I had never been inside it. The building itself was nothing like Northside Elementary. Northside was a beautiful brick two-storey building surrounded by a virtual forest, with all kinds of stuff for kids to play on outside.

Valley View, on the other hand, was a dull green one-storey building that looked more like an army barracks than a school. It was a long building that ran along almost the whole street, and at one end there was a section of the building that was almost twice as high as the rest. I guessed that this must be the gymnasium, and would find out later that this was a good guess.

As we drove across the bridge, through downtown, and then up the Southside Hill towards my new school, I knew I would probably find out where the gym was soon. We drove past Grandpa and Grandma Sparling’s street, past the IGA and around the corner past Cones Cafe. Then past Jackson Street where Uncle Don and Aunt Audrey lived and past Van Buren Street where Uncle Frank and Aunt Anna May lived.

I had driven this route many times already and knew that we would go down a few more blocks along the highway and then turn right onto Lincoln Street. Mom slowly drove down a few more blocks to the end of the street. Here we could only turn right, and on our right-hand side, was the Mormon Church.

As we turned onto Augusta Street, there on the left was Valley View. It looked smaller today for some reason. Maybe it was because there were cars lined up on both sides of the street dropping off kids for school. I was starting to sweat now, and I seem to recall my feet tapping on the floor of the car.

Jimmy, you don’t have to be nervous, Mom said calmly, You classroom is number 101, and your teacher is Mr. Timmins.

Thanks Mom, I replied nervously. Now all I had to do was find room 101. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Mom found a place to pull over in front of the Mormon Church, and I grabbed my pencil and notebook she had given me earlier. I could write pretty well now, and I guess she gave me these two items so that I could write down any notes from the teacher.

Well, I guess I couldn’t delay this any longer. It was time to get out of the car and find my class. Exiting the car wasn’t as easy as it seems. Since Mom’s new Impala was a two-door, I had to half stand up in the back seat and lean way over Kelly and Connie in the front seat, and stretch my arm to the door handle. Not only was this difficult, but once half-opened, the door was really heavy to push all the way open. But I was able to do it, with a little help from Kelly in the front seat.

As I pushed the front seat forward, Kelly almost doubled in half under the weight of the seat as I squished past him and out the door. I closed the door and waited for Mom to leave so I could cross the street and join the mass of kids heading for the front door of the school.

I’ll be back to pick you up at lunch time when school gets out today, Mom said, leaning over Connie and looking at me through the passenger window.

Okay Mom, I replied, my voice quivering. I was still a little nervous.

As Mom pulled away, I was finally able to look directly at the new school in front of me. I stood there in awe and it looked a lot bigger from this vantage point than it had in the past. I could almost imagine it growing taller as I stood there staring across the street. I checked both directions and started walking slowly across.

When I got closer to the other side of the street and stood on the sidewalk in front of the school, it definitely looked much larger than it did a few seconds ago. What the heck. Was this an optical illusion? No Jimmy, things look bigger the closer you get, dummy.

There were a few kids milling about in front of the school, and about halfway between the sidewalk and the school entrance, stood a tall flagpole. I glanced up and saw the US flag attached to the top, but not waving at all. Past the flag, I noticed for the first time, a tiny second floor above the main entrance. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed this before, and I also wondered what was up there.

I started walking towards the front entrance and stopped dead in my tracks. There was Lenis, my next-door neighbor, and the two Rage boys lurking near the front steps of the school. Lenis saw me and smiled a huge smile. The two Rage boys looked at me like they had forgotten who I was. Now that they were in their third year at this new school, maybe I would have to earn their friendship all over again. I didn’t want to have to go through that aggravation again and maybe they would remember that I wasn’t just some little kid to pick on - they knew me; I was a Northsider.

Lenis started lumbering towards me, still smiling, and I gave a sigh of relief. When Lenis walked, you could almost feel the earth shake. I thought to myself, ‘Lenis must know his way around the school pretty good by now and could maybe show me where my class is’. I started walking faster and now saw that Johnny and Jack were following him.

Thank god they didn’t scare me anymore. Here I was, ten years old, and I was feeling scared for about the hundredth time already in my short life. I wasn’t too afraid of Johnny or Jack at the moment; I was more afraid of this new school and the unknown teachers and kids that I would meet. As I continued my way up the sidewalk, it reminded me of one of the first times I felt fear. That was at the Creston Elementary School on my first day of Kindergarten. I couldn’t believe I was feeling the same way today.

Actually, thinking back, my first memory of real fear was just after my father was killed. I wasn’t as much worried for myself, I was afraid of how my mom and our little family were going to survive without a dad. He bought everything for the family and drove us everywhere. How was Mom going to do it all by herself? Where were we going to live? How were we going to buy food to eat? It wasn’t the kind of fear that makes your heart pound, it was something that hid in the back of your mind.

Life seemed to be full of fears, and I was not exempt from confronting them. After Dad died, we moved to Canada, and that was scary. Meeting new friends in Canada, that was scary. Starting school was scary. Getting a new stepdad, that was scary. Snakes and spiders, those were scary - well, maybe not snakes so much. There always seemed to be something else to be scared of. Just when I had faced one fear, it seemed like two more popped up.

I wondered if my whole life would be nothing but a bunch of fears to conquer. Maybe that is what life was all about. Facing our fears and then growing and facing some more. Thank God there was some fun mixed in with all the scary stuff. These thoughts of fear disappeared as I approached the three terrors from the Northside.

Hi Jimmy, Lenis said happily and reached out his hand to shake mine.

Finally made it to the big school, hey Shorty, Johnny said laughing.

Okay, I was a little short for my age. But, I was used to being called Shorty. I had been the shortest boy in my class in Grade 4 over at Northside Elementary, and I would probably be the shortest kid in my class at Valley View too. But, I secretly hoped not.

Do you know where your classroom is? asked Jack.

No, but Mom told me my teacher is Mr. Timmins. Do you guys know where his classroom is? I asked.

I can show you Jimmy. I know exactly where it is, Lenis said excitedly.

Thanks, Lenis, I replied, letting out a deep breath, obviously relieved there was one less obstacle to overcome.

We all started up the walkway to the front steps of the school. I hadn’t realized until now exactly how much larger this school seemed than my old school, the Northside Elementary. This school was only one floor high, not like the two story brick building that was my first school in Bonners Ferry, but this building seemed to go on forever when you looked to the right and left from the spot I was now standing.

I realized that I had stopped dead in my tracks as I took in this new view and thought about the change in schools. The two schools were like night and day. Northside Elementary was an old brick building with oodles of character. It even had an emergency slide down one side of the building so the second floor classes could escape in case of fire.

This new building was made of concrete blocks all painted a pale green color. The color reminded me of the building my real dad used to take us to once in a while. Dad had been a member of the Army and was stationed in both Greenland and Goose Bay, Labrador. After he got out of the Army he joined the National Guard in Bonners. That building was the same color as this new school standing in front of me. The only difference was that this building didn’t have a ten-foot high fence all around it.

Anyway, enough daydreaming, I said to myself as we all started stepped up to the landing leading to the four double-entrance doors. This section of the building was a little taller than the classrooms, and had a roof, supported by two large columns extending out above the walkway about ten feet. I guess this was so no rain or snow got tracked into the school.

There were kids loitering about near the entrance, but they were busy doing their own thing, and hardly noticed the four of us enter the school. As soon as I got through the doors, the smell of new paint hit me. They must have painted the inside of the school over the summer. I looked both ways and was struck by the fact that the hallways were already full of kids. To my left, the hallway seemed to go on forever. It was about ten feet wide, with classroom doors on both sides, all the way down to the end.

On my right were about a hundred kids all standing in front of what I guessed must be the main office. It was the first room on the right as you walked down the hall towards the gymnasium at the end of the hall. We inched our way through the crowd, and Lenis led the way down the hall towards the gym doors. Just before the gym, on the left-hand side, was a doorway with a sign above it that said ‘Mr. Timmins - Grade 5’.

Thanks Lenis, see you at lunch? I asked.

Sure Jimmy, I’ll try to meet you here, Lenis said seriously, and he and the two boys headed back down the hall.

As I watched them disappear into the crowd of students, it suddenly hit me. Kids were sure tall in this school. I guess I was so concerned about finding my classroom that I had missed this small detail. I felt like a midget.

As I opened the classroom door, I secretly wished that everyone in my new class were close to my size. But, that was probably too much to expect. I think I was just destined to be short. God, even Roy was now taller than me, and he was a year younger. Whenever this subject came up at home, Mom would say to me, You’ll sprout up one of these days. I hoped she was right.

When I entered the classroom, instead of a bunch of kids running around wild, I was greeted by a quiet group of kids sitting patiently at desks. How they knew where to sit was beyond me. I was also struck by the huge wall of windows on the far side of the room. This sure did brighten up the room. The teacher didn’t even have to turn on the overhead lights.

Speaking of the teacher, he was standing behind his desk to my right as I stopped just inside the classroom door. As I stood there dumbfounded, I heard a loud voice say, Name?

I glanced toward him and noticed he was staring sternly at me. I gulped and said, Jimmy.

Jimmy what? was his immediate response.

Jimmy Sparling sir, I said, gulping again.

Well, Jimmy, there is a place for you right up front here in the middle row, he said, pointing at the desk directly in front of him.

I didn’t have a good feeling about my new teacher. Not only were his mannerisms a little rough, he had a look on his face that scared the crap out of me. He wasn’t a big man, but was slightly chubby. He wore steel-rimmed glasses, you know, those round ones that looked like my real dad’s in his photos. He was also almost totally bald, except for little bits of hair around the tops of his ears and around the back of his head.

As I slinked toward my new home for the year, I had a really bad feeling. Why did he have to put me right up at the front of the class? I was so busy thinking all these thoughts that I didn’t even notice that Mark Smith was in the seat across from me, and Joel McDonald was in the seat behind mine. Today I hadn’t noticed them yet, but over the next few months I would be happy that these two friends sat close to me.

Gee, this new teacher hadn’t even been friendly enough to welcome me to his classroom and make me feel comfortable. Today would be a long day.

I sat down at the desk and plunked my notebook and pencil down on the top. The desk was the standard wooden top desk made of tubular steel legs and supports. The top was like a wooden box with an opening in the front near my stomach. The top didn’t lift up like on some desks, you just had to slide your stuff that you weren’t going to use inside, and use the top as your workspace. There was a long groove carved near the front of the desk, and I placed my pencil into it.

Hey Jimmy, we got the same class, I heard coming from the next row.

I looked over and finally noticed Mark. I leaned slightly toward him and whispered, Hi Mark. Mr. Timmins looks mean.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. There was Joel, smiling at me. He said excitedly, This is going to be a fun year. I’m glad you’re in my class.

Stop talking and turn around in your seat and face the front of the class, I heard Mr. Timmins say loudly.

I didn’t know who he was talking to, but I quickly did what he had instructed. As I turned and faced the front of the class, he was leaning against the front of his desk looking directly at me. He was also holding a yardstick in one hand and slapping it against his other hand. I gulped for about the tenth time today. I decided not to glance over at Mark again, but could feel him smiling.

Let me tell you a little about Mark. I had first met Mark at Cub Scouts at the Mormon Church across the street. Mark was short like me, but rather than seeming to let it bother him, he acted like he was just as big as everyone else. Looking at the two of us, you would almost say we were brothers. Not twins, but about the same size and build. We were both thin, had crew cuts and blue eyes. But my eyes were more of a deep blue, whereas his, had a bit of a sly glint in them. Mark could be the kind of friend that could get you into trouble a lot if you weren’t careful.

Joel was the opposite of Mark. Joel was, of course, bigger and taller than Mark, but he didn’t have a glint in his eyes like Mark did. Joel had a quiet nature and instead of jumping into new situations, Joel was the kind of guy that would let others lead the way. I had noticed this about Joel in Scouts. He always participated, but never led. Oh and did I mention the thing about Joel that impressed me the most? He was left-handed - a ‘southpaw’. I could sit and watch Joel write stuff all day.

Going to school in the United States was different from Canada. The first thing that a class did after the morning bell, was to stand and say the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag. I still remember the words, to this day. After that, we had to sing the song The Star-Spangled Banner. You could hear all the classes reciting these two things every morning, and many times it was almost the entire school in unison. I can’t remember, but we may have also had to say the Lord’s Prayer. I don’t know where I learned it, but I know it wasn’t in church.

As I adjusted to this new class, in a new school, with a new teacher and his voice droning in the background, my mind drifted off to the upcoming neighborhood dance on the Northside. Let’s see, today is Tuesday, and the dance is Saturday night. I only have four more days to learn how to dance. Thank goodness after school today everyone is meeting at Donny Evan’s garage for our (or, at least my) first dance lesson.

I started to review dance steps in my mind. Let’s see, there was the two-step. I had seen that done before and it looked really easy. You put your right arm around the girl’s waist, then grabbed their right hand with your left hand and extended your arm out straight to your left side, and then just swayed back and forth from one foot to the other. Of course this was all done in perfect time to the music.

I had seen people square dance at the Fall Fair, but that looked a lot more complicated than the two-step. If I had to learn that dance, it could take me years instead of a few days. Another dance I had seen was the polka. People polka’d to fast and happy kinds of music. In my mind, it seemed a bit like the square dance, but the people seemed to hop a lot more. Square dancing had more of a graceful flow to it.

Maybe we would be learning the Waltz tonight. Now that was a dance that was a little more difficult than the two-step, but you glided more than stepped, and could even dance around in circles if you wanted to. It looked like fun, and I’m sure it would not be too hard to learn. The waltz seemed to be the right dance step for the music that was popular today.

Suddenly, I felt a smack on the top of my head, and I snapped out of my thoughts. What the heck was that? I asked myself.

I looked up to see Mr. Timmins glaring at me. He had a wooden yardstick in his right hand and was slapping it against the palm of his left hand.

Wow, I think he had actually hit me on top of my head with his yardstick. My skull was throbbing a little where the stick had hit. I couldn’t believe it. I was almost positive that he had hit me on the top of the head with that thing. Was that even legal?

As my eyes met his, he asked loudly, As I was saying Jimmy, what does your dad do for a living?

Umm, he drives a logging truck, I said sheepishly.

And what did Mark tell us that his dad did for a living? he asked, as a large smirk crossed his face.

Umm, I can’t remember, I lied. I hadn’t heard what Mark had said his father did for a living, or any of the other kids’ parents either, for that matter.

He quickly replied, Actually I think you weren’t paying attention to me. You had better make sure that doesn’t happen again, or you and I will have problems.

Yes sir, I replied sullenly. I would have to make sure I didn’t let my daydreams get me into trouble in the future. It didn’t help that I had to sit right at the front of the class. I rubbed the top of my head. It sure hurt.

As I glanced around at the other kids in the classroom, I could see that some were smiling. They seemed happy that it was me, and not them. Others looked sad. I think they thought that Mr. Timmins didn’t like me, but it was better me than them. Others just sat there quietly and looked down at the top of their desk. They didn’t want to meet my gaze at all, maybe because they thought they may be associated with me,