Tinker’s Dam: A Journey of Self Awareness and Self Acceptance

By Robyn G. Wall

Tinker’s Dam is a book that will be of great interest to all persons who are struggling, or have struggled, to properly integrate their human desires with their moral values. Indeed, this is a personal struggle that all people must face and reconcile, beginning in their early childhood throughout the remainder of their life. However, considering Tinker’s Dam’s protagonist, Ted Wilson, the book will especially appeal to males in the age range of adolescence through young adulthood, particularly males who are striving to maintain high moral and spiritual standards.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Oct 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9781977246226

Robyn G. Wall

Robyn G. Wall is a retired clinical social worker and psychotherapist who lives in Austin, Texas with his Korean wife, Younnie, her cellist-playing son, Daniel, and her retired parents, Jin and Maeho. His 43-year professional career was dedicated to the clinical treatment of individuals, couples, and families who struggled bravely with emotional and psychological problems. It was a work that he found always challenging, ever rewarding, and often fascinating. The fascination of his job came mostly via the complex and remarkable clients with whom he and his colleagues worked, and it was these clients who inspired him to pursue his long-held avocation of literary writing. Even though his writings are fictional, they are stories that convey universal truths about life itself and illuminate both the fragility and resilience of the human psyche. 

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Tinker and the Caterpillar

How long has he been this way?

Off and on, about three days…ever since he came in.

Poor guy, the demons really got to him. What do you know about his case?

Not much. ‘His Lordship’ is still treating him.

Evers? The guy who only talks to the other shrinks?

Yeah

So I guess you don’t know anything.

Well, I know a little. I was in here Tuesday changing linen with that hot new nurse, when…

Linda?

I guess so. The brunette with the big…

Her name is ‘Linda’, Johnny. Can you try a little harder to control your testosterone rushes?

Please, spare me the sermon, Preacherboy.

Forget it…what did you see?

Well, that was before Wilson was totally out of it, and we could hear him mumbling something—mostly some name, I think…‘Dinker’ or ‘Tinker’ or something like that.

Was he conscious?

Not really. He didn’t respond to us or anything, but he was acting real weird.

How do you mean?

Well, sometimes he’d seem angry; then, just like that, he’d change and look real sad, like he wanted to cry, and the whole time he kept mumbling that name like he was trying to talk to somebody.

To Dinker?

Yeah, I think so…it was the damnedest thing.

So who’s Dinker?

I’ve no idea. Maybe some stockbroker who convinced him to buy Studebaker.

Come on, Johnny, show a little respect.

Hey, how can you respect somebody who ends up like this? I’d rather be dead.

Well, I’d guess he would, too.

Ted Wilson squirmed slightly in his bed as the two men continued to talk over him. Although wound tightly into a fetal position, he still could not shut out the words-—the menacing words that bounced randomly off the walls and ceiling before grouping together in angry swarms and slicing relentlessly into his head. Ted could feel the dam cracking again as his panic began to build. Tinker! he cried out in silent agony, Tinker…where are you?

It was growing dark, and the eleven-year-old boy was at least a half hour late in returning home. Yet there he remained at the base of the huge white oak tree where he often came when he felt the need to be alone. It was summer, 1955, and most of the mill town residents of Hammond, Indiana, had settled into their evening routines—some at local taverns, others at home doing whatever they could to unwind from the numbing monotony of their daily work routines. But Teddy Wilson had other things on his mind—troubling things that he could neither help nor change. Tears welled in his eyes as he shined his penlight on the caterpillar that was lying in the grass, now wound tightly into a fuzzy brown ball. Teddy felt utterly helpless as he knelt there, lightly touching the little creature with the tip of his finger and watching it die. And all the while he kept reminding himself that he hadn’t meant to hurt it—that it was just an accident.

Teddy…what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were headin’ home right after we finished playing ball.

Oh, Tinker…hi, replied Teddy, slightly startled to see his friend again. It’s this caterpillar. I didn’t see it when I was sitting down here, and I think I mashed it a little with my leg…now it looks like it’s dying.

Tinker strutted over to Teddy, all the while staring at him with a penetrating glare. Let me get this straight. You’re actually crying over a stinking little bug?

Teddy looked downward, as if to escape the clutches of his friend’s eyes. I’m not crying, Tinker. I’m just upset.

Well, how touching. Hey, I know what we can do! Let’s find its family so we can raise its children for him. Then we can have a flock of butterflies of our very own.

You’re not funny, Tinker, Teddy replied tersely as he scrambled to his feet. I know it’s just a bug, but it feels pain and wants to live just like you and me.

Yeah, I guess you’re right, Teddy; we should do something. At that moment, Tinker walked over nonchalantly and stomped on the caterpillar with the heel of his shoe. There, now we put it out of its misery and sent it to caterpillar heaven.

Tinker’s actions so stunned Teddy that he could say or do nothing for several seconds. Then suddenly, he lunged at Tinker, letting out a furious, deep-throated roar that seemed to startle him even more than his friend. For several seconds, they rolled in the grass beneath the huge oak tree, arms flailing and feet kicking like two little bear cubs in mock battle. Of the two boys, only Teddy actually tried to inflict harm, and Tinker soon found a way to stop that as well by curling into a tight ball, laughing loudly, and then shouting out, Hey, I’m a giant caterpillar; please don’t hurt me!

Soon both boys lay prone on their backs, side by side in quiet exhaustion. They remained that way for several minutes, silently gazing up at the clear evening sky. Finally, Teddy broke the silence. Do you ever wonder about the stars, Tinker?

Yeah, sometimes I wonder about Marilyn Monroe and Jane Mansfield.

No, I mean it, Tinker. Do you ever wonder about the stars and the planets…about God?

You scare me sometimes, Teddy. For God’s sake, instead of thinking about stars, you should be wondering if the Brooklyn Dodgers will ever win the World Series, or who’s the first girl you’re gonna make it with.

Yeah, but sometimes I like to think about more important things.

What could be more important than the World Series or sex?

Come on, Tinker, I’m serious.

Yeah, and that’s one of your biggest problems, man—you’re too serious. Sometimes you sound like one of our school teachers or something.

But don’t you ever have thoughts about life…about why we’re here?

Sure I do, man. Do you want to hear what I think about that?

Not really…unless you’re serious. But I guess you’re going to tell me anyhow?

Okay, then, since you’re begging me, I’ll tell you what I think. And trust me on this one, Teddy; you can learn something from it. My idea about life is: never ask stupid questions that don’t have real answers. Just live by three things—number one, we’re here whether we asked to be or not; number two, we should have as much fun as we can while we’re here; and number three, don’t waste time living to please other people. There, end of lesson.

Thanks, Tinker; I’ll be sure to give those words the attention they deserve. Listen, I gotta get out of here, added Teddy as he jumped to his feet. Mom is probably worried about me.

Let me tell you something about that mother of yours, Teddy…

Geeze, Tinker, not now; I’ve gotta scram. I’ll catch you later. With that, Teddy began briskly walking the three blocks to his house, being especially careful to watch every step along the dimly lighted sidewalk. It was a warm, sultry evening, and as he walked, his senses seemed especially acute. Teddy always had been that way, even as a very young child, noticing and reacting to the nuances of the world around him that other people were oblivious to. On this night, he felt the minuscule drops of dew forming in the night air, smelled the fresh-mown grass, and listened attentively to the crickets that had begun their nighttime symphonies. As he passed each of the small row houses, he couldn’t keep himself from glancing into their illuminated interiors and wondering about the people he saw inside. Who were they, really? What types of childhoods did they have? Were they content with their lives, or did they still dream dreams like Teddy himself—dreams of a magical time in his future when he could be fully at peace, when he wasn’t at odds with anything or anybody, least of all with himself?

About a block from his house, Teddy noticed a shiny new bicycle chained to the porch rail of the house he was passing by. It was not just any bike, either; it was the Cadillac of bikes—a Schwinn Black Phantom complete with leather saddle, electric horn and chrome everywhere. Man, I can’t believe it! Teddy thought to himself, Jimmy really was telling the truth about getting that new bike for his birthday. That’s great!

Jimmy Chilcote was a neighborhood kid who was beset with social handicaps. He was undersized and had large protruding ears and a rather whiney, irritating manner that seemed to beg other kids to make fun of him. Some of the other boys were especially cruel and seemed to spend half of their spare time thinking up creative ways to humiliate him, like the time in third grade when three of his classmates brought in stuffed toy donkeys for Show and Tell, all of whom they had named Jimmy. Aside from his family, the only true friend Jimmy had was Teddy. Still, as kind and attentive as Teddy was to him, he couldn’t protect him from the cruel, bullying treatment of the other kids. To compensate for such treatment, Jimmy often would resort to telling lies in desperate attempts to elevate his sense of importance and social acceptance. Of course, hardly anyone ever believed him, and Jimmy would usually end up feeling even more rejection and ridicule. That’s why Teddy was so happy when he saw the new bike on Jimmy’s porch. For once, he thought to himself, Jimmy will be able to silence those bullies.

Seeing Jimmy’s bicycle, Teddy found his thoughts drifting back to that Christmas morning some five years earlier when he got his own first bicycle. That was when his father was still living and so eager to teach him how to ride. The bike came with training wheels, but against his mother’s objections, Teddy’s father removed and discarded them. He remembered the attention and careful instructions his father gave to him later that day, but as hard as he tried to please his father, he kept losing his balance and falling—again and again and again. As his father became increasingly impatient and irritable, Teddy began to feel frustrated, then ashamed, and finally very frightened and panicky.

As those thoughts raced through his mind, Teddy suddenly remembered that that was the time when he first saw the bright light. Then, like a jolt of electricity, his heart began to race, and his breathing became shallower and more labored. Teddy knew that the feelings he had on that day five years ago were starting to return. They were scary, troubling feelings that he had no desire to revisit. So he forced himself to walk faster, and then to run the final forty yards to the safety of his doorsteps, never looking over his shoulders to glimpse the ghosts he was fleeing.

Teddy hesitated slightly as he reached for the doorknob. He was nearly an hour late in getting home, and he knew his mother would be upset. But he also knew that her relief and joy at first seeing him again would quickly replace any feelings of anger she might be harboring. Teddy turned the doorknob only half an inch before it finished turning in his hand. Quickly, the door swung open to reveal the tall and stately woman standing in the doorway. Brenda Wilson was a thirty-two-year-old woman whose chiseled facial features, wan complexion, and mottled brown hair pulled straight back from her face gave her the appearance of someone considerably older. Altogether, she portrayed a woman who clearly had led a hard life, yet someone whose inner spirit radiated a sense of warmth, gentleness and dignity. Brenda stood motionless before her only child, questioning him intently with her silent gaze.

I know, Mom…I’m sorry. I accidentally hurt a caterpillar, and I was real upset. Then Tinker showed up, and we got into a scuffle. Then we made up and talked awhile. Then…Mom, I’m real sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.

As Teddy spoke, Brenda’s facial expression gradually softened until it finally became fixed into a warm smile. She wrapped her arms gently around him and softly stroked his back with her right hand. Who loves you more than chocolate sauce, little man?

You do, Mom…thanks.

Brenda gently shut the door behind them, and she and Teddy walked together into the cramped living room—a room whose otherwise drab appearance was brightened some by the colorful throw pillows strewn about in rather haphazard fashion. Want to talk awhile about your experiences? Brenda asked as they both sat down. You know I don’t much like Tinker, she continued, but I’ll try to listen without giving you a hard time if you’d like to talk.

Teddy hesitated a moment. Thanks, Mom, but I don’t feel much like talking now…at least not about that. But maybe we can play some Scrabble tonight; we haven’t done that in a while.

You’ve got it, little man! replied Brenda with a bright smile as she quickly got up from the sofa and walked to the coat closet to retrieve the Scrabble game. But you’ve beaten me the last two times we’ve played, so tonight you get no extra points, okay?

Teddy grinned broadly, Whatever you say, lady, but I’m still gonna take you to the cleaners.

Fine with me she retorted, the laundry needs doing anyway.

At that point, both mother and son began laughing, and the mental anguish Teddy had struggled with only five minutes earlier now seemed nothing more than a faint and irrelevant memory. They filled the remainder of their night with spirited conversation and good-natured teasing. And later, as Teddy said his prayers and climbed into bed, there were no worries or troubling thoughts to keep him awake. Nestling under his crisp, cool sheets, he fell asleep to the lulling sounds of the crickets outside his bedroom window.

Teddy slept soundly throughout the night, and when his mother slipped quietly into his bedroom at 6:45 a.m. to kiss him goodbye before leaving for her mill job, he hardly stirred at all—quite unusual for Teddy who always made it a point to get up and see her off each morning, even during the summertime when he didn’t have to get ready for school.

CHAPTER 2

Jimmy’s Bicycle

By 9:00 a.m., Teddy was eating his cornflakes at the kitchen table. He thought about calling Jimmy Chilcote a little later to talk with him about his new bicycle. Maybe, he surmised, they could take a bike ride together through the neighborhood and make a point of finding as many of Jimmy’s youthful tormentors as they possibly could in order to show them the Schwinn Black Phantom. It wasn’t so much that Teddy wanted those kids to be taken down a notch or two (although he admitted to himself that this wouldn’t be so bad to see); rather, he just felt happy for Jimmy. This was one time—one of the very few times—when Jimmy actually would be delivering on one of his big boasts.

Later, as Teddy rinsed his breakfast dishes, he looked out the window above the kitchen sink and noticed a police car traveling slowly down the street. Although Hammond, especially in 1955, was not what you’d call a crime-infested town, it was not unusual to see the local police answering a call in that particular working class neighborhood. Most often when officers showed up, they were responding to a domestic disturbance—often a husband who got too drunk and abusive, or a teenager who was cursing and threatening his parents. What was so unusual about this scene, though, was the three boys on bicycles trailing the police car while several more ran closely behind down the sidewalk.

Teddy left his dishes in the sink and quickly dashed out the front door in the direction that the crowd and police car were moving. When the two officers parked their car in front of the Chilcote house, Teddy felt a sinking feeling stir inside him. He watched from a distance as the boys gathered at the curb near the police car, and after the officers knocked on the door and went into the Chilcote home, the boys huddled together, laughing and talking excitedly among themselves. Two of the boys Teddy quickly recognized as Brad Henderson and Gary Johns, both of whom were troubled kids whose personal missions in life included bullying and tormenting other kids, especially the social misfits like Jimmy.

Soon, Gary caught sight of Teddy who was standing by himself on the sidewalk across the street. Hey, Wilson, have you come to see the big show, too?

The last thing Teddy wanted was to be associated with this group of young thugs, but his feelings of concern and curiosity were stronger than his feelings of repulsion, and he began walking slowly in their direction. What show are you talking about, Gary?

You know, Wilson, the big unveiling of Chilcote’s new bike. The only trouble is, it’s a lot like the bike that was stolen from the Fastlane Bicycle Shop over on Chicago Street last night. At this point, several of the kids looked at each other and tried, although not very hard, to stifle their laughter. I guess you’ve got to hand it to old Donkey Ears, continued Gary. He told us he was getting a Black Phantom for his birthday, and there it is sitting on his porch. I just never thought he’d stoop to stealing one.

Teddy tried hard to punctuate his response with the proper amount of indignation. And how do you know he did steal it? You guys seem to know an awful lot, like exactly when to show up in order to see the police arrive.

Strictly coincidence, Wilson. We were just coming over to see Chilcote’s new bike when we happened to catch the squad car coming down the same street, said Gary.

Yeah, chimed in Brad, we just figured that since Chilcote had told everyone in Hammond about getting the bike for his birthday, the police officers were just coming over to see it, too.

With that statement, all the boys began laughing loudly with such perverse glee that Teddy could hardly stand it. He wished just for a moment that he could be like Tinker and tell them all in some clever, sarcastic manner to go straight to hell. But Teddy could never say anything like that himself. Instead, all he could do was bite his lower lip, clench his fists tightly and stare at them in stony silence.

After a few more minutes, one of the officers came out of the house and began questioning all the boys. There were eight of them bunched together, including Teddy, and by now a few more people—mostly adults with younger children—began appearing from nearby houses to see what was going on. The officer took the names and addresses of each bystander, and asked a series of questions about Jimmy, the stolen bicycle, and other related matters. Many of the boys, particularly Gary and Brad, eagerly recounted Jimmy’s boastful statements about getting a Schwinn Black Phantom for his birthday. Teddy tried to think of something to say to the officer that would lessen Jimmy’s appearance of guilt. But all he could think to say was that he knew Jimmy wasn’t a thief.

The more Teddy talked to the officer, the more frustrated he felt that he could offer nothing substantial to help his friend. Almost as frustrating for him was his certainty that Gary, Brad and maybe some of the other boys were involved in the bike theft in some way, and now here they all were, standing around with smug expressions on their faces, and Teddy couldn’t do or say anything to touch them. It’s not fair, he thought to himself; it’s not fair! Soon the police officer, after questioning everyone, took a tool from the trunk of his car that he used to cut the chain on the bicycle, and a few minutes later the officers and the bike were gone.

Before the police car was out of sight, Teddy watched attentively as Mrs. Chilcote, a short and heavyset woman with coal black hair, stepped onto her porch to insist that everyone leave. He knew her well, and he often had seen her take on the demeanor of an angry bulldog when trying to protect her son. But on this occasion, she seemed strangely out of character. Her voice and body language, rather than showing anger, reflected only sadness and resignation.

While the other people scattered, Teddy remained close by, partially hidden by a car parked on the curb about a hundred feet away. His heart was aching for Jimmy and Mrs. Chilcote. He wanted to go to them to offer his sympathy and support. He wanted to tell them he knew Jimmy didn’t steal that bike. He wanted to share his suspicions of Gary and Brad. Yet he was haunted by the sad, hangdog image of Mrs. Chilcote standing on her front porch, and something inside told him that they needed to be left alone.

A moment later, Teddy heard a familiar voice over his shoulder. Teddy, my man! Did I miss the show?

Your timing is rotten, Tinker. Yeah, you missed the police and all the fuss about the stolen bike.

Tinker responded with a decided smirk. Too bad.

So what do you know about all of this? Knowing you, you were probably right in the middle of it somehow.

Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Teddy. At this point, Tinker stood silently for a few moments, allowing his words to catch Teddy’s full attention. Then peering at him with a serious expression, he continued. Am I selfish? Sure, I admit to looking out for ‘number one’ first. Am I the asshole I’m accused of being? Yeah, sometimes…so what? But have you ever seen me go after someone just because I think he’s a jerk or a square—unless of course I’m just trying to protect myself or a friend?

No, I guess not, Tinker. Maybe you deserve a medal or something for being such a great guy.

"Teddy! Listen to that jive talk! I didn’t know you had it in you, man.

Maybe there’s hope for you yet."

By this time, Teddy was clearly showing his impatience. Come on, Tinker; answer my question.

Okay, I heard some talk around the neighborhood that some older kids might try to hit the Fastlane shop, but I heard no real details about who, what or when. One thing I’m sure of, though, is that Jimmy had nothin’ to do with any of it. Still, you have to admit that the little twerp is a royal pain-in-the-ass who practically asks people to abuse him. I don’t know why you even waste your time with him. He’s hopeless.

Nobody’s hopeless, Tinker. Everybody deserves at least one friend.

Oh, is that so? Well tell me, Mr. Friend-to-the-Hopeless, what has your friendship actually done for him?

What do you mean? asked Teddy, more curious now than he was upset over Tinker’s sarcasm.

What I mean is that no matter how you’ve tried to help Jimmy, he’s still an irritating little jerk. You’ll never be able to change who he is.

So you think I should just dump him because you don’t happen to approve of him? What kind of a friend would that be?

Teddy, you’re selling this guy a bill of goods when you talk to him about that ‘turning the other cheek’ crap. Maybe his only hope is for someone to teach him how to get even with all those jerks.

I don’t want to use him like that, Tinker; I just want to be his friend.

Well, if you were a true friend of Donkey Ears, you’d teach him not about being kind but about being tough. I’m telling you, Teddy, you’re doing him no favors, not to mention the fact that you’re wasting your own time.

As Teddy listened to Tinker spewing his street-life philosophy, he became increasingly upset—not so much because Tinker was so cold and insensitive, but more because he was starting to make sense. Tinker was trying to undercut everything Teddy had been taught about human values—things that his mother, in particular, held sacred, and the fact that Teddy was not rejecting his verbiage out of hand was starting to frighten him.

Rather than trying to debate with Tinker, Teddy decided instead to change the subject by asking him directly what he had wondered about and alluded to in several of their earlier conversations. Tell me, Tinker, since you and I are so different, and since you don’t think much of me, or at least how I’m handling things in my life, then why do you even stick around?

Simple answer, Teddy, he replied with a half laugh, because you need me.

That sure is news to me.

No, it’s true. You need me to save you from yourself. Oh, and one more thing, too. In a crazy sort of way, I need you.

What’s that?…you need ME?

Yeah, that’s right…I need you and others like you, Teddy, to show me how often you get stepped on whenever you try to do the ‘right thing’ instead of doing the thing that’s best for you. You’re sort of a reminder of why I’m like I am.

So you’re saying we need each other then. What a terrible thought!

Yeah, agreed Tinker, what a terrible thought. And they both looked at each other and laughed—Tinker more sincerely than Teddy.

Throughout the day, Teddy constantly replayed in his mind the morning’s events. He thought of at least a hundred different things he could have done or said differently, especially in response to Gary and Brad and their junior Mafia wannabes. Riding his bike to the park, he thought about the stolen Black Phantom, then about Jimmy and the pain and humiliation that he and his family must be going through. But mostly, he thought about the things Tinker had said to him and the self-doubt those words had fostered. Several times that day, Teddy started to call Jimmy or drop by his house, but he resisted each of those notions, largely because his conversation with Tinker had made him unsure of what to say to Jimmy.

CHAPTER 3

A Mother’s Wisdom

Teddy eagerly waited for his mother to return home. He had always relied on her wisdom whenever he felt troubled or confused, and on this occasion he felt both of those things. Tinker, who had a poor relationship with his own mother, had tried on numerous occasions to turn Teddy against his. But Teddy never could see his mother as the weak-willed, naive idealist that Tinker saw her to be. To Teddy, his mother was the personification of all things good, wise and kind, and those qualities gave him immeasurable comfort, especially in the last two years since his father’s death.

By the time Brenda Wilson parked her old Nash Rambler in her driveway, Teddy had already put the TV dinners in the oven. Mmm, roast beef tonight, she said as she entered the foyer.

No, Salisbury steak, Mom. I hope that’s okay.

That’s just fine, little man, but I’ve told you before, you don’t have to do the cooking for us. I’m perfectly capable.

Sure you are, Mom. I just like doing it for you sometimes. Besides, tonight I want you to be all rested because I need to talk with you a lot.

Must have had a pretty rough day today.

Yeah, sort of. I just need you to help me understand some things that happened today, but of course it can wait until after dinner.

Good, because the smell of those dinners in the oven is making me hungry. Salisbury steak sounds delicious.

Later that night, after they cleared and washed the dishes, Brenda and Teddy sat down in their talking seats. Teddy settled into the big overstuffed brown chair with the worn and soiled arms, while Brenda stretched out on the matching sofa, her robe carefully draped around her legs and a cushion propping her head. Just the sight of his mother in that familiar position gave Teddy a sense of inner calmness, and for the next twenty minutes he related all of the factual and emotional details of the events that had transpired earlier that day.

Brenda was careful to allow Teddy to speak freely, communicating only with her eyes and facial expressions, and occasionally interrupting very briefly whenever she needed a fact or name clarified. Teddy seriously tested his mother’s supportive and permissive listening role, however, when he began to recall the conversational exchange that he and Tinker had about his relationship with Jimmy. Sensing his mother’s discomfort, and eager also to hear her opinions, he finally asked for her response to the things Tinker had said to him. He was accustomed to his mother’s lengthy, instructive statements in which she espoused her ideals and beliefs. So he settled comfortably into his chair and waited attentively for her to speak.

For several seconds, Brenda said nothing, as if she was searching carefully in her mind for the precise words and proper tone of voice with which to address her son, whom she now realized was especially confused and vulnerable. Then, changing her posture to a seated position, she bent forward slightly in Teddy’s direction with her eyes fixed firmly on his. "Teddy, you know how I feel about Tinker. And it’s certainly not all critical. Next to you, I think he’s probably the brightest, most articulate, and in many ways the most mature boy for his age that I’ve ever known. But in terms of his values and his view of life, I think he is very mixed up, and very dangerous to you and others who hang around him. Tinker certainly has a sharp and inquisitive mind. I happen