Another week has gone by, so it’s time for the next Chapter of Lost and Found.
I don’t have much to report for the past week. I’m getting used to the inconvenience of needing to be on my oxygen therapy all the time. I did find a neat back-pack with wheels and a handle to carry the oxygen bottle. The back-back has a camouflage design on it, so I kid folks and tell them they can’t see it — it’s camouflaged!
It does help, though. So it is worth it.
Okay, enough gab — on with the reading …
Be well, be in peace,
Ron Rink
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It was good Billy and I practiced every day that week, because it seemed as though Friday arrived much sooner than usual. When I left home in the morning for school, I told my mother I would be needed at the bowling alley later than usual because of a special tournament and wouldn’t be home for dinner. My mother wasn’t pleased with the idea and wanted me to be home for dinner, but my father overruled her saying we could use the extra money. When I made my sandwich for lunch, I made an extra one so I would have something to eat later that afternoon.
The Sugar Bowl was a small confectionery store on the corner of State Fair and Cardoni. It had a soda fountain counter where you could buy sundaes, banana splits, malted milk shakes, sodas, plain or flavored cokes, sandwiches, hot dogs and hamburgers. There were some booths along one wall of the store and more along the windows facing the street, as well as the stools at the soda fountain counter. There was another counter on the other wall where a variety of cigarettes, cigars, pipes, tobacco and candy were for sale.
The State Fair Dukes had been using the Sugar Bowl as their hangout for at least four or five years. The owner of the Sugar Bowl, Mr. Hanson, didn’t have a problem with the Dukes hanging out there as long as they kept buying things and didn’t bother any of the other customers from the neighborhood. He wouldn’t let any of the gang loaf around in the booths unless they were drinking coffee or sodas or having something to eat. If someone finished what they were eating or drinking and didn’t buy any more, Mr. Hanson would kick them out and they had to stay outside. If any of the Dukes were in the booths and a regular customer wanted to sit there, Mr. Hanson would make the guys move.
It was a popular neighborhood store and was always busy. The gang members knew they had to do what Mr. Hanson said because if they gave him a bad time he wouldn’t let them be anywhere near the place. He also knew where most of the gang members lived and knew many of their parents. The people from the neighborhood who came into the store had known most of the guys and girls that hung out there since they were little kids. Even though it was a gang hangout, the customers knew they wouldn’t be bothered.
Most of the time there were just guys hanging around the Sugar Bowl, but the Dukes also had their Duchesses. These were usually girlfriends of the gang members and were easily identifiable by their black jackets with “SFD†lettered across the back right under a skull and crossbones emblem, the same jackets as the guys wore. It was a rare happening to go by the Sugar Bowl anytime in the afternoon after school until it closed at nine at night, when there wouldn’t be a group of guys and girls inside or gathered around the front and side of the building talking, smoking and goofing around. Some of the guys would be having fake fights, while others just leaned against the building watching cars go by, talking and just looking cool. The guys who had girlfriends would usually be necking around the back of the building.
When our shift was done at the bowling alley, Billy came up to me and said, “Hey, I’ll see you later at the Sugar Bowl. I’m gonna go home and eat and then I’ll head over there.â€
“Okay,†I said, “I already told my parents that I’d be working late here, so I’ll just hang around here until it starts to get dark. I brought an extra sandwich, but I don’t feel much like eating anything.â€
Billy looked at me and I knew he could see that I was nervous and scared, but he just grinned at me and said, “Don’t worry, Van, you’ll be okay. This’ll be easier than a lot of the fights you and I have had over the past few months. You’re gonna surprise the hell out of those guys.â€
I just nodded my head and tried to smile back at him, but the smile got stuck somewhere in my fear.
He started out, then turned back and called out, “Don’t forget to bring the cigarettes.â€
He looked at me again and said, “Don’t let them know you’re scared.â€
Fortunately, I remembered about the cigarettes on my parent’s choir night. I took the cigarettes out of the box in the garage and wrapped the cartons up in some old rags that were in the same box, then put it all in a smaller cardboard box. I tied the box to my bike with some rope and rode over to the bowling alley. There was a small storage area behind the building filled with some old boards and boxes. That stuff hadn’t been moved for ages, so I thought it would be a good place to stash the cigarettes. I worried about rain or rats, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do with them.
I went and sat down in the dark along the wall in the back of the bowling alley and began to think about all the things Billy had taught me about fighting these two guys. I knew I was still a kid, but I also knew I had been fighting with Billy for a long time. I was good and I was smart.
I closed my eyes and started to picture the fights in my mind. I was able to see myself doing exactly what I had been taught. I couldn’t picture Jimmy’s face because I didn’t know him, but in the movie I was playing in my head, I did get the advantage over him right away. Since I knew what Bobby looked like, I was able to visualize getting him down with no trouble. After doing this for a little while, I realized I wasn’t as scared as I was earlier.
When it was starting to get dark, I went out the back door of the bowling alley. I got the cigarettes from where I hid them. They were still fine—no critters had chewed away at them. I tied the box onto the handlebars of my bike and started out for the Sugar Bowl.
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My other blog about Buddhism
http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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awww, you mean i have to wait another week to see how the fight goes? can’t wait. glad you are feeling better about the oxygen.
“the smile got stuck somewhere in my fear” ~ that’s poetry.
I’m so looking forward to next week’s posting. Btw, the camouflage backpack idea is clever.
@Elaine — Me? A poet? Nah! But thanks for the comment. I do wish I could have phrases like that show up in my work more often, but, alas, I guess I’m too literal.
@kristin — Yep! No fighting until next week. Thanks for commenting.