Author’s note: In this mostly true tale our hero is a naïve young boy who misunderstands several things he overhears. That’s why several words and phrases are deliberately wrong. Contains no graphic sex or heavy romance. Characters under 18 only engage in innocent hugs or hand holding. Like the 1960’s this story includes racism, alcoholism, and tobacco use; all portrayed in a negative light. There is also a mildly disturbing but humorous scene involving menstruation. If any of that would bother you, please read something else.

–

In a small southeastern town, USA 1960

It was a really good day! Gramma made me sketti and meballs! I never got sketti at home! I watched her dump the can in a pot, then my big sister Kimmy took me down to the basement to play. Kimmy scattered a bunch of plastic aminals around the basement and got a big toy dump truck out of the toy box. I pushed the toy truck around, making “Vroom” noises as I went around picking up giraffes, dogs, chickens, and other aminals. I was almost four and my big sister was eight. To me, she was nearly a growed-up. Sometimes Kimmy was wiser than my parents.

I didn’t understand most of what I overheard as Mommy talked to Gramma upstairs. “I really don’t feel like it anymore. We don’t want any more kids, but he keeps making me do it. He says if he doesn’t get it at least every other day, it makes him crazy. Sometimes he…” She started crying.

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I was sad that Mommy was sad. Kimmy walked around the basement, distracting me by scattering the aminals again. I saw a few tears on her face, but she said; “Good that you got ’em all. Pick ’em up again and make their noises this time.”

“Vroom!” I picked up a cow. “Moo!”. I took a few steps saying, “Vroom!” then picked up a dog. “Arf arf! Vroom!” I picked up a turtle and didn’t know what noise they made.

I overheard Gramma tell Mommy, “Well, you have to keep him happy somehow. It’s disgusting, and it’s a sin, but try …” She whispered something I couldn’t hear, then continued. “He might mess around with a nagga, but he won’t stay with one. At least it’s not like he’s cheating with a kraut that he might run away with.” Mom and Gramma hated naggas and krauts, just like they hated jabs. Gramma’s brother wasn’t around anymore, ’cause he was a earo. He flew a hairplane in a war, and the jabs took his life away from him. I didn’t know any, or what they looked like; but jabs, krauts, and naggas sounded really bad to me.

But I got sketti! It was a happy day! Kimmy got my sketti and meballs from upstairs and closed the basement door. She sat me in her lap and started feeding me. I wanted to be a big boy, so I took the spoon and got some sketti on my own. I did it! Only a little bit went on my shirt, and it was SO YUMMY! I loved sketti!

Several months later, on the morning after I turned four, I woke up and was eager to go outside and ride my new trike. My big sister left for school and Daddy walked out of the bathroom. Mommy was crying and spit in the toilet, then threw up. Daddy said, “That was great, honey! Thank you!” He put on his shoes, then went to work as Mommy sat on the bathroom floor making bad faces. Mommy gargled with mouthwash and smelled all minty. It wasn’t Sunday, but she told me we had to go to church. It wasn’t like all the other times I’d been to church. There were only two old ladies praying in the front, and a priest. Mommy told me, “I have to go do confession. Sit here and be quiet. I’ll be back soon.” It seemed to take a long time and was so boring! But on the way home I got ICE CREAM!

A few days later Mommy came home with a new kind of drink, in a blue glass bottle. She poured some in a cup and took a sip. She coughed a little and swallowed it. I asked her if I could try some. She said it was gin, a grown-up drink, but a little taste wouldn’t hurt. I took a small sip and it stung my mouth like crazy! It burned my mouth and my throat, and it even tickled my nose! It tasted really bad, like medicine. I hated it and quickly drank a big glass of water.

Mommy took another sip, then mixed it with a soda. I couldn’t understand how she liked it. Mommy started having gin and soda with dinner, then her and Daddy would go in their bedroom for a little while. Daddy would come out smiling a lot. Mommy would come out sad and wipe her mouth but would be fine after she had some more gin. She started taking me to church three times a week. I complained that it was boring, and she got me crayons and a coloring book. I was glad Mommy and Daddy didn’t fight much anymore.

A week after I turned five, the house smelled bad and there was a haze in the air. As I walked from my room to the kitchen the smell got worse. Mommy sat at the kitchen table with her friend Linda, drinking gin and soda. Linda said, “I know! My husband Ron hangs out with naggas and their horse all the time, too. He says he likes their music! How can he! It’s terrible, the devil’s music!”

Mommy blew out a stream of smoke. I wondered if her insides were on fire, ’cause the gin burned so bad? She didn’t seem upset, so I guessed she was ok. Linda sucked on a stinky white stick and blew out smoke too. She smelled bad from the smoke and complained a lot, but I liked how her feet looked in her dark nylons. I sat under the table, looking at her feet and playing with my toy cars.

Mommy said, “I quit when I got pregnant with Kim. I almost forgot how much I like these. Thanks!” She sucked on her stink stick. It smelled bad and I didn’t want to listen to them complaining anymore, so I went outside to play.

I rode my trike up and down the sidewalk and met my new best friend, Jamal. He and his friend Shawna played with me most of the day. We took turns riding my trike and chasing each other, playing hide and seek, and playing in the sandbox. We had a great time.

The next day Jamal brought over his toy guitar. We tried to dance like Chubby Checker and Elvis as we sang. We played together nearly every day, until Kindergarten started in the fall. I was sad my friends had to go to a different school, ’cause mine was “wides only”. I didn’t think I was that fat, but the grown-ups made the rules.

–

The day after school ended in the spring, I got a terrible shock. Shawna sang “Hit the road Jack”. Jamal and I had fun singing along with her. Jamal sang “Bad Leroy Brown”. When it was my turn, I thought a little while and asked, “What’s that song that goes ba ba ba dun dah… you know, by Barry Wide.”

Shawna and Jamal laughed like crazy. I asked them why. Jamal clued me in, “Kevin, you stupid! He’s Barry WHITE, not WIDE! Hahahaha!”

I wondered, “Huh?”

Shawna giggled and said, “White, not WIDE! Hehehe! You think you go to your school ’cause you FAT? Hahaha! It’s WHITES only! Grown-up honkeys don’t want us niggers around ‘em.”

I was flabbergasted! My jaw dropped and I couldn’t speak a moment. I coughed and wondered, “But … but you can’t be niggers! You’re nice! You’re my friends! My Dad has friends that look like you too!”

Shawna’s Mom yelled that dinner was ready. She said, “You’re not s’posed to like us, but I’m glad you do.” She patted my shoulder, then ran home.

Jamal teased, “Kevin and Shawna, sittin’ in a tree, K I S …” My Mom called me in for dinner too. I was saved!

For weeks I wondered, ‘How can Gramma and Mommy hate people just ’cause they look different? Even really nice people?’

That Christmas our family was the first on the block to get a COLOR television from Santa! It was SO MUCH BETTER! After dinner every night, we would sit on the sofa watching our favorite shows. Well, actually our favorite was whatever was on, since we only got two channels.

When I was seven, Mommy and Daddy started fighting a lot about money. Mommy wanted a bigger fridge and a new couch and chair for the living room. Daddy wanted to get a better car. For weeks they yelled at each other every night.

Mommy decided she would get a job working at the same place as her friend Linda. The two of them would each work three days a week and take turns watching each other’s kids. Kimmy was best friends with Linda’s older daughter Sally already. Sally was almost thirteen and Kim was eleven.

Mommy dropped us off at Linda’s house for the first time and I met Linda’s younger daughter, Naiomi. As soon as Linda introduced us, Naiomi grabbed my hand saying; “Let me show you my toys. I have puzzles, and games, and …” She practically dragged me to her room.

Within minutes, she became my new best friend. I couldn’t say her name right, so I called her “Know Me”. She giggled and said, “I like that. You’re funny.” We played together most of the day. We were both seven and even had the same birthday! It was like we were destined to be together.

Kimmy and Sally did girly things, styling each other’s hair, trying on each other’s clothes, and whatever things girls do together.

When we were at Linda’s house, Naiomi and I did puzzles, drew pictures, played cards or board games, watched tv, and generally spent every minute we could together. If one of us had to go to the bathroom, the other would wait outside the door.

At my house, most of the time we played with Jamal and Shawna. We started a band. Jamal played his toy guitar, I played a couple of upside-down pails as drums, and the girls sang. I haven’t seen Jamal and Shawna since I was eight, but I later heard they got married and toured with Tina Turner for a few years.

When Sally turned fourteen and Kimmy was nearly thirteen, Mom and Linda decided that was old enough to babysit. They started working full time and left the four of us at Linda’s house most of the time. Until it got dark out, when the weather was nice, Naiomi and I would play in the woods or hay field behind their house. We would catch frogs and bugs and find oddly colored or shaped rocks. We spent hours laying in the field on our backs, pointing out which clouds looked like animals or objects.

One day it was raining, so Naiomi and I decided to draw the house we would have together. I knew guys were supposed to want a lot of cars for some reason, so I drew a big garage. She drew lots of bedrooms, for all our kids. She wanted lots of kids with me, so nobody would be lonely. The idea didn’t bother me at all, it felt right.

At nine years old, we had no idea how to MAKE kids, but we decided a big family would be good. We finished our house picture and wanted to show it off. We went to Sally’s room and peeked around the corner. Sally was holding a cigarette! She sucked in a big puff of smoke and handed it to Kimmy!

We watched them each suck in and cough out two or three puffs before Naiomi yelled, “What are you doing!” They started to look ill and turned an odd shade of bluish purple. Kimmy said, “Sally likes a boy that smokes. We were practicing.” As if that made it ok. Sally asked, “What do you want, to not tattle on us?”

Naiomi asked, “Show me how to paint my fingernails like yours?” Her big sister sighed and agreed, “Okay. And what do you want, Kevin?”

I hopefully replied, “Get us some sodas and make popcorn when the movie comes on?” The older girls gave us root beers and popcorn, and went upstairs when the movie started at eight.

Naiomi and I sat on the couch with a blanket over us. I liked her pretty but smelly pink fingernails. We hugged and talked about how we wanted a big family and a big house, and how nice it would be to live together all the time. We ignored most of the movie, and the one after it. I looked at the clock and saw it was a few minutes after midnight, the latest we had ever stayed up. We yawned together and she asked, “Can I be your girlfriend?”

“Yes! I love you, girlfriend!”

“I love you too, boyfriend!”

I hugged her tightly and played with her long blonde hair a little. We hadn’t even kissed and didn’t know what sex or real love were. We happily fell asleep leaning on each other. After that night we held hands whenever we were together, until our parents told us to stop. As soon as they looked away I would hold her hand again.

–

One morning I woke up with Kim screaming for Mom to help her. The two of them ran in the bathroom. I saw a few drops of blood on the floor, and quite a bit in Kim’s bed. I hoped she would be ok. A little while later Kim came out of the bathroom. I asked if she was all right, and she thanked me with; “SHUT UP AND GO AWAY!”

The only thing Kim and Mom talked about for days was being girl sick and blood. Mom explained periods to me. I was a ten-year-old boy, so against my will I learned that when they get to be a certain age, girls get blood sick in the bottom of their tummy. They save up lots of blood to make babies out of tampons and napkins, and if they get too much the blood comes out their butt! So much blood! So disgusting!

I didn’t want to know, and I didn’t want to hear any more. I thought napkins were for cleaning your face and was terrified of finding out what a tampon was.

Saturday morning Dad rescued me. He couldn’t take the girl sickness talk either, so we drove around looking at cars. I didn’t know anything about cars except Dad liked them, but it got me out of the house. For half a year, whenever it was Kim’s time of the month, Dad and I went looking at cars. I also started a Sunday ritual. Every time I was in church, I prayed that Naiomi would never talk to me about being girl sick.

For a very long time, I regretted my prayer coming true.

One stormy night Sally and Naiomi were at our house and Dad was out late with his friends. Mom and Linda usually got home from work a little after midnight, but they woke all of us when they walked in at three in the morning. They loudly sang “Go All the Way” by the Raspberries as they stumbled to Mom’s room. They smelled like gin, a LOT of gin. Sally asked when they were going home and Linda told her not to worry about it. We went to sleep and when I woke up, I had to go to the bathroom. I walked past Mom and Dad’s room on the way and Linda was under the blankets, asleep next to Mom. There was a terrible argument when Dad got home and he left for a few hours.

Naiomi kissed me on the lips for the first and only time, before Linda took her girls home. A week later we moved away and I never saw Naiomi again.

For close to two decades, whenever I didn’t have a girlfriend, I searched for my “Know Me”. I stopped looking the day I met my wonderful wife.

Wherever she is, I hope Naiomi’s happy.

–