Chapter 25

I woke up to the first snow of the year. It was only an inch deep, but Eddie was listening to the radio to see if the school would be closed. I wasn’t going to disappoint him by telling him that I could only remember school being closed a couple of times since I started school.

The kids in the country who had to ride buses would get at least a week off every year, but those of us in town had to walk no matter how deep it got. Seldom was it deeper than a foot.

Today even the kids who rode buses got to go to school. It looked like there would be a total of two or three inches. It was nice wet packing snow so we made plans to build a snowman after school.

Mum told us she would get out the scarf and hat that we put on the snowman every year. That is when a crisis of immense proportions reared its head. Our new house was gas heated. We hadn’t any coal for the eyes or mouth!

After a hasty family confab, Dad agreed to pick up some at one of the rentals that hadn’t been converted yet. I felt lazy as I didn’t get a chance to run. I was enjoying sitting at the table drinking coffee while talking about nothing with the family.

It wasn’t a bad way to start the day. That is till Dad reminded me there was a snow shovel with my name on it in the garage. The driveway and sidewalk needed to be cleared.

I offered Denny five bucks to do it, but he wasn’t interested. Eddie was about to take me up on the offer when Dad kicked me under the table. I can take a hint and got to work. After clearing the walks I took a shower but was careful not to get my hair wet.

Since my hairdryer had fallen apart and I hadn’t built another I didn’t want to hear the dreaded, “You will catch your death.”

Tom and I walked to school together. We both agreed the roller skating was fun but not as good as ice skating. We would check the ice pond out this Friday evening. The pond was across from the tennis courts in Mary Rutan Park.

The city floods the field with a foot or so of water every fall to form a skating pond about an acre in size. There were lights so we could skate at night and a small shed which can hold a dozen people. It has benches to use while putting your skates on along with a fireplace if you get too cold.

It is attended by a city worker who keeps a roaring fire going. I suspect he is also there to prevent kids from using it as a make-out place.

Mr. Brown the school janitor was mopping the water up from the snow we brought in with our shoes. He must dream of mopping. Tom Wilson who can be pretty stupid at times ran at the puddle and tried to slide across the floor.

He made it about two feet to a dry spot and landed hard on his butt. We all laughed at him when he stood up. He bowed to all.

Since this was the first dumb thing Tom had done since the food fight we figured he was due. Apparently Mr. Brown didn’t see it that way as he took Tom to the office. Well, it got Mr. Brown out of mopping, so maybe he just took the opportunity at Tom’s expense. Some things are like day and night, they just happen.

I turned in my weekly paper to Mr. MacMillan my World History teacher. It was the first paper that I had typed out. It had footnotes and citations. I can tell you it is really a pain to correct typing mistakes.

I had kept at it till I had a clean copy for my first effort. Mr. MacMillan held it up for the class to see then he passed it around.

“This is the sort of work you will have to learn to do if you intend to go to college. I urge those that can to take typing and move up to this level.”

I heard a muttered, “Way to go, Jackson, you just made it harder for us to get a good grade.”

I turned around and it was Tom Wilson. He didn’t seem to be the happy go lucky class clown at the moment.

I winked at him. That didn’t help matters but I wasn’t too worried. I was twice his size and he didn’t have a reputation as a fighter. After class he cornered me.

“How did you get to take typing already? I thought it was reserved for girls or senior boys who need an elective.”

“I bought a typewriter and have been teaching myself.”

“I may have to go that route or use the one at Dad’s office to practice on.”

“You sounded like you were unhappy about me turning in a paper like that.”

“Ah, I just have a reputation to maintain as a smart aleck. Actually, I want good enough grades to be admitted to Ohio State as a business major. If I am going to run a Dad’s print shop in the future I will have to know about the business.”

I had known Tom Wilson for eight years and had never seen this side of him. I wonder who else I know that differs from the front they put on.

At lunch, a bunch of the kids went outside and built snowmen in the front yard of the school. Others made snow angels and even more got into snowball fights, of course, this lead to your standard bloody nose.