Chapter Fifty-Two

Here’s the next Chapter of my Memoir/Novel, Lost and Found.

This has been a weird week around here. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t seem to get away from drama. Nothing I can share here — I just had to say it. But, after I finish posting this Chapter, I think I’ll go work on my Buddhist Blog to get me into a better frame of mind. It usually works, especially if I meditate first for at least a half-hour.

Hope you enjoy this Chapter.

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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The Hazel Park School was set about two hundred feet back from the road. There were walkways leading up to the front doors of the school as well as two other sidewalks which angled off to the outer edges of the building. We took the walkway that led off to the right side of the building and saw how it led to a classroom wing which went back at a right angle to the front. When we reached the end of the wing we could see the playground in the back of the school. There was an identical wing on the other side which created an enclosure on one side of the playground. The only road was the one in front of the school. There were wooded areas along either side of the school beyond the wings and we could see lights on in some houses on the other side of the woods on either side. The playground went on for many yards behind the school and beyond the two wings. There were two lights on the back of the building, as well as two lights on each of the wings. They weren’t bright, but did give off enough light to be able to see.

Billy told Dolores and Sally to wait at the back of the building. He nudged me to follow him as we began walking along the edge of the woods on one side. “Keep your voice down because it will carry over to those houses, especially if someone is outside. We’re looking for the best escape route out of here if the cops show up during the rumble. Those houses aren’t far away and somebody might hear us and call the cops once the rumble gets started.”

We edged along the side of the woods and eventually came to a path which led off to the right. We followed it and it came out of the woods into a large vacant area between some of the houses. We ran directly across the street to another vacant lot and continued until we were two streets over from the schoolyard. The houses on that street were closer together and no more vacant areas were visible.

Billy turned, looked around and nodded his head. “This looks good. If we hear any cop sirens, we can run out this way and be two streets over before they can block us off. We can put our cars on this street. What do you think, Van Buren?”

I looked around in all directions and nodded my head.

“Okay, let’s head back,” Billy said as he turned and started trotting back toward the school.

When we got back to the schoolyard, Dolores and Sally were sitting on the ground next to the building wing. Billy went up to Dolores, smiled, took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. He put his arm around her waist and walked with her to a dark, hidden alcove at the corner where the main building and the wing came together. Once they ducked into the alcove, they were no longer visible.

I slid down the wall and sat next to Sally. It was quiet except for some faint giggling coming from the alcove. I pulled out my pack of Lucky Strikes, shook it to pop up a few cigarettes and asked Sally if she wanted one. She nodded, smiled and took one. I pulled my matches out of my pocket, struck one and cupped the flame with my hands while I lit our cigarettes.

“Hey, how old are you, anyway?” I asked as I blew smoke into the air.

“Thirteen. How old are you?” she answered in a quiet voice.

“Twelve,” I lied. “Where do you live?”

“Over on Andover. How about you?”

“I live on Russell.”

She snickered, “That’s my last name—Russell.”

We were both sitting with our backs to the wall of the wing and had our knees up. I was sneaking glances over at Sally and saw she had her arms crossed over her knees with her head down on her arms. Occasionally, she would lift her head to take another drag off her cigarette.

“Have you been to any other rumbles?” I asked.

“Yeah, I was at one a few months ago. I didn’t like it,” she replied looking over at me.

I glanced over at her and noticed she didn’t look so mean and tough with her head resting on her arms. She looked soft and calm.

“How come?” I asked.

“It got too scary. I saw some of the guys whip out switchblades. There wasn’t supposed to be any knives.”

“Did anyone get cut?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Were you fighting too?” I asked.

“Nah, they made me stay back. I don’t want to go to this one, either,” Sally said as she straightened her legs out in front of her, put her head back against the building and blew smoke into the air.

“Yeah, but you have to go so we know which guys did this to you and your cousin.”

“I know, but now I wish I had just kept my big mouth shut. I was just so fucking mad I didn’t think. I wanted to get the bastards, but I didn’t want a rumble to happen.”

I was confused. The Sally I saw around the Sugar Bowl had always been someone ready to fight or argue at the drop of a hat. She seemed constantly pissed off at the world and angry with everyone. The Sally who sat next to me against the wall that night was different. She seemed calmer. Her voice was quiet—almost sweet sounding. I had never seen her laugh or smile around the Sugar Bowl, yet she had done both in the short time we had sat there. I had always seen her face as hard—the face of someone who was tough, bitter and looking for a fight. Yet, on that night I saw a pretty girl.

Sally looked over at me and smiled again. “Everybody always calls you Van, Van Buren. What’s your first name?”

“It’s Roland,” I answered as I looked at her and smiled back.

“Okay, Roland, where’d you learn to fight? When I heard this kid had beat Jimmy and Bobby, I almost shit. Nobody’s been able to beat those guys, except maybe Billy and Morton.”

“Billy taught me. We work at the bowling alley together.”

“So, why’d he want to teach you?”

“My old man beats me up, and I wanted to run away. So, Billy said I’d need to be able to take care of myself on the streets so he taught me to fight.”

“How long’s he been teaching you?”

“Since I was eight.”

“Did you run away?” Sally asked as she turned toward me, pulled her skirt over her knees and sat facing me, cross-legged. She stubbed her cigarette out on the ground, and with her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand, looked at me. She looked interested in what I had to say.

“Yeah. I’ve been running away every summer since I was eight. But the cops keep catching me and making me go back home.”

Other than Joanne Gross, I had never sat and talked with a girl before. The girls in school that liked me because of the piano, never said more than “Hi, Roland” as they giggled their way past me in the halls. To make the talk with Sally even more unusual was the fact I had never talked about my running away to anyone other than Billy. Moreover, there I was, talking about it to a pretty girl I barely knew.

“Do you think you’ll ever run away for good?” She asked after a long silence.

“Yeah, I gotta. I’m smarter now about avoiding the cops, and I’m in the gang so I have protection on the streets.”

Sally looked at me, smiled again and nodded.

I took a last drag off my cigarette, snubbed it out in the ground and smiled back.

“Hey, where are you guys?” called Bob Morton as he came around the side of the school wing.

“We’re here,” I called out as Billy and Dolores came out of the alcove.

“Let’s go,” said Morton. “Did you guys work out an escape route?”

Billy and I told Morton our plan as we all walked around the building to his car. As we were riding back to the Sugar Bowl, I noticed that Billy had some new bruises on the side of his neck that he hadn’t had when he and Dolores went into the alcove. I had heard some of the guys talk about hickeys before, but that was the first time I ever saw one.

I wondered why people did that.
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http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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