Chapter 2

The next morning, I was up at my usual time, 5:30 AM! No rest for farm kids, even on the Sabbath. It was cool (in the high forties), so I put on my coat and walked out towards the hen house. Morning chores started with gathering eggs, washing my hands and forearms (thoroughly), and then doing the morning milking. I came in with the two heavy jugs and my Grandpa took them. Aside from milk and cream, my mom made butter and she helped grandma make her prize-winning cheddar cheese. In a few months, Cheese made from this batch of cream might be ready for the County Fair in August.

After a shower, I was eating by just after seven (how many kids get to eat eggs that they gathered and milk that they milked themselves!). Aside from scrambled eggs, I had sausage and bacon, directly from my Uncle Bo’s Smokehouse and some of grandma’s home fries (now that’s the breakfast of champions!).

Then I ran upstairs to dress for church. We went to St. Mark’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in town. I was part of the fourth generation of our family to attend. Okay, yes church is boring most of the time. Still, I liked Pastor Bill’s sermons and I liked to sing the hymns.

I was a pretty musical kid, despite my changing voice. Up until last year, I took violin lessons but I hated them. I remember my mom grousing “Sure, just when he didn’t sound like a screeching cat anymore, he quits.” I did not give up music altogether. My dad played guitar and he gave me his old Gibson. Last year, he bought me a Stratocaster and an amp (with the understanding that I couldn’t crank it up too loudly. I’m self-taught on guitar (with some hints from my dad and Uncle Steve, who also plays).

Anyway, it was only a few weeks to Easter, so we were in the season of Lent. Pastor’s sermon was about how the reflection of our faith was more important than the symbolic sacrifices some people made during the season.

“It’s important to understand that any small sacrifice we make cannot come close to the sacrifice Christ made for us on the cross. God calls us to remember why we come here on Sunday mornings, not to give up Twinkies,” stated Pastor Bill

The last comment got a chuckle, but Pastor had made his point. Even a teenager like me understood that. It also started me thinking about confirmation class last year. Pastor dealt a lot in themes of service to not only the church, but to the community as a whole.

Speaking of confirmation, after church, I met up with my friends Karl Faust and Axel Wilhelm. Karl and Axel were both church and school friends and were in my confirmation class. We were the only thirteen-year-old kids confirmed as Pastor has been impressed by our maturity. I was surprised to see my old teammate and friendly acquaintance, Johnny Martin, hanging out with them in the fellowship hall.

“Hey Tom, I hear you’re on the Lions this year,” he said.

“Yeah. They have a new coach and he picked me first,” I grinned.

“No way! Even over the Paul Riley and Lionel Carter? They’re the top kids coming out of Little League.”

“Yeah. I guess I did my Pops Stargel impression and hit a couple of dingers at tryouts BP.”

“Well, shit!” he uttered while Karl and Axel twittered. “I knew that Old Man Jeffers should have kept you. Man, you played short like Mark Bellanger last year. Yeah, you didn’t hit much, but Jeffers never really gave you a chance. Now, you’re only a few inches shorter than me and you are sporting some serious muscles. You been working out?”

“Nah ... just working on the farm,” I grinned.

Johnny just shook his head. “Well, just wanted to wish you luck and tell you that we’re gonna miss you on the Elks. See you in homeroom tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Johnny. At least you have Eva to yourself now,” I laughed.

Eva Harrington was the one girl on our team. Since our town did not have youth softball yet, her parents threatened to sue so she could play Little League and the town caved. She was actually a good hitter and pretty fast. She played center field and had been almost six inches taller than me. Now we were just about the same height. Despite her jockish ways, Eva was a cute redhead and I could tell Johnny liked her. Last year she treated me like the team mascot, always petting me on the head like a cat. Was it condescending? Sure. Was I gonna stop a cute girl from stroking my head? No way.

“Stop that crap!” he complained but blushed. I just grinned, as he retreated to where his parents were conversing with Pastor Bill and his wife.

I looked over at my friends. “So, did he threaten to hang you from the choir loft?”

Axel laughed. “Nah, Johnny’s cool. He’s in my Earth Science class. We study together sometimes.”

“Yeah, not your typical jock,” agreed Karl.

We continued to yak until Karl’s parents took me and Axel home with them for lunch and so we could play Atari. I had wanted one, but my father had said no. Instead, Grandfather (my dad’s dad) had gotten me an Apple II Plus computer and a dot matrix printer. It had some games, but it was a pain to play the arcade-style games with keystrokes (certainly not as good as going to the video arcade in Pittsburgh). Most of the time, I used it to type papers or play some text-based games like Zork.

Karl had gotten his Atari 2600 last Christmas and some great Atari games, including Space Invaders, Break Out, and Basketball. He said some other cool arcade games like Asteroid would be available soon. I was hoping that my computer would eventually have these games and that I could get a joystick. For now, Karl was cool with us playing after church and his parents were cool with us staying for lunch. As always, Mrs. Faust served us grilled cheese sandwiches, made with homemade bread and slices of my grandma and mom’s sharp cheddar along with homemade creamy tomato soup (so good!). Then we got down for some serious video games.

I like video games as much as the next kid, but we teenagers, almost liked to talk about girls as much. After a couple of hours of blowing up aliens and bouncing a digital ball off of a digital paddle to break down a digital wall, we took a break to talk about our other favorite subject.

“So what is Eva going to do now that you’re going to play on different teams?” asked Axel.

“Hopefully start showing Johnny some interest,” I said. “He’s a good guy and he really likes her.”

“I mean, what about you and her? Don’t you liked her?” asked Axel.

I sighed and nodded. “Of course I like her, but to her, I was always some cute, little thing she could pet on. I mean, have you seen her doing it to me since I had my growth spurt?”

“It’s been a while,” admitted Karl.

I looked at my friends, they meant well but didn’t really understand me. Of course, I liked the contact with a cute girl. I had to get over the initial embarrassment and had to establish the fact that Eva was not doing it to be mean (which she wasn’t), but I understood that she had no other expectations for me. She and I were only thirteen at the time and despite the peer pressure to grow up more quickly than I should (and the need for my geeky friends to live vicariously through me), I wouldn’t be influenced by it.

“We’re just friends, guys. I think she’s better suited for Johnny anyway.”

My friends tried to argue with me, but I finally convinced them that I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I guess they could tell that I was getting ticked off and dropped the subject. On a positive note, I then proceeded to set the high score for Space Invaders. Karl and Axel spent the next hour trying to top it. They were still at it when my mom came to pick me up for me to do my late afternoon chores.

After I got home, I changed out of my nice clothes and then went out to milk the cows. As always, I handed the jugs to Grandpa. Then I went and took a shower and it was time for supper.

At supper, it seemed that the Eva teasing wouldn’t end for me when it was discovered who my uncle and cousin’s “hot dates” were last night.

“You two went to the movies with a mother and daughter?” giggled my mom.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I had to double date with my father and my date’s mother. It was just plain weird,” groused Lars.

“Who were the lucky ladies?” asked my grandmother.

“Rhonda and Mary Harrington. Rhonda lost her husband to cancer the year before I lost Linda. When Lars started dating Mary, we kind of hit it off and decided to go out with the kids.”

“Doesn’t Rhonda have another daughter?” my dad grinned as he looked in my direction.