It was February or March in Connecticut, and colder than anything I could ever remember before that. All the kids were home from school, maybe it was Easter vacation or something, and we were running around outside, trying to keep ourselves warm. In our neighborhood, almost all of the parent's worked, the moms and the dads. It was kind of a housing project where we lived, the rent was cheap, and there was a long waiting list for families to get in. My Uncle Bill and Aunt Margaret lived right next to us, with my cousins, Dale and Billy. Uncle Bill worked at the Post Office and Aunt Margaret was one of the few moms able to stay at home, and not have to go to work. My mom was a practical nurse and worked at the poor people's old folks home in New London. My dad was a Chief Petty Officer stationed at the navy submarine base, right outside Groton, where we lived.

I was 13 that winter, already almost six feet tall, but terribly skinny, and having trouble keeping up with the growth spurts that left me feeling tired and weak a lot of the time. My bones hurt too from all that growth, it was weird. Our neighborhood was divided up into cliques among the kids who were 16 or younger. My cousin Billy was the leader of the boys age fourteen and over. He was 16 and the toughest kid in the neighborhood. They all played together, keeping the younger kids out of their games, except at night when we all played 'kick the can' together.

The girls were divided into two groups too, the ones old enough to be developed, with boobs and hips and stuff, and then all the rest. Margaret Tracy was the queen bee of the older girls, she was 16 and the prettiest girl around, and thus, my Cousin Billy's girlfriend. They had been going steady for a couple years by then, although they'd had a dozen break ups and reconciliations over that time period. When they were split up, Billy always threatened any boy that even tried tospeak to Margaret. That made her a lot more willing to get back with him when the time was ripe.

One of their many break ups happened because Billy took Theresa Contino off into the woods one night and copped her cherry. Theresa was a fairly plain looking girl, barely fourteen when all of this happened. She was very stockily built, along the lines of a Rosie O'Donnell, and had very few social airs or graces. The thing that made it even worse, was that Billy, after he'd had her a few times himself, decided that it would be fun to share Theresa with all of his buddies. Theresa had always had a big crush on Billy, so when he told her that she could only be his girlfriend if she let all of his friends do her too, she liked him desperately enough to agree to go along with it.

Tommy Spicer was the first one that Billy sent her off in the woods with. As soon as the two of them got back, she and Billy went back in the woods and stayed there for a long time. Eddie Bouligney was next to get a turn, a few nights later, and then John Gracia went into the woods with her another night, and then, finally, Herbert Martin who was a little retarded, even got himself a turn. All of Billy's friends got to have a turn at having sex with Theresa and then Billy would take his turn after.

That went on until around Christmas time when Theresa told Billy that she thought that she was probably pregnant. As soon as she told him, Billy broke up with her and told her that it might have been anyone's kid, certainly not his, because he had had Rheumatic Fever when he was little and the doctor had told his mom he probably wouldn't ever make a woman pregnant. That was Billy's story, and he did have Scarlet or Rheumatic Fever when he was eight years old, I remembered that. Theresa was devastated and heartbroken when Billy dumped her.

Normally, in the early 1950's, when an unmarried girl got pregnant she was shipped off to go live with distant relatives, and then came back later and pretended she'd never been pregnant at all. Some girls went to New London, to The House of The Good Shepherd, a home the nuns ran for unwed mothers where they stayed until they had the baby and then it got adopted out and the girl moved back home. This was long before birth control and easy abortions. Theresa didn't do this though, she stayed right at home. Her dad restricted her to her house, but she could sit out on the front steps if she wanted to. She was sitting there on the front steps of her porch that cold day in February. She looked cold, but mostly, she looked miserable, and it looked like she'd been crying. She was starting to show from her pregnancy some too. Her stomach was definitely getting bigger.

"Hi Teri, how ya doing?" I'd always liked Theresa, she wasn't stuck up and she didn't go around making fun of people like a lot of the neighborhood girls did. She'd always been friendly to me too.

"Hi Jackie. I'm just out here trying to keep away from Tony and April." Tony and April were her younger brother and sister, they were about 6 and 8 years old. Theresa was the one who watched them all the time, because her mom and dad worked the same shift over at Electric Boat, a big shipbuilder in Groton, part of General Dynamics Corporation. They were the biggest employer in town. "I get so tired chasing after them all day, they never seem to sit down and take a rest like normal kids."

"I know what you mean, my little brother is the same way, always getting into mischief that other people have to clean up after." We continued on, talking in that vein, me moving from foot to foot, trying not to show how frozen I was feeling. She just sat there, not seeming too bothered by the cold. She had on a nice thick winter coat though, and mine was a couple years old, the sleeves coming halfway to my elbows, and most of thethe stuffing had fallen down into the middle of the liner. All of the padding having fallen down like that, it left me cold everywhere but around my waist. My parents seemed to believe that my growth spurts were something I just did on purpose, to make them have to keep buying me new clothes. They thought that making me wear stuff that no longer fit me was a fitting punishment for my continued selfish growing. They also encouraged me to spend my caddy money on clothes, even though I told them I was saving up to buy a car, I planned on buying myself a new one, right after I got my driver's license, in a few more years. We'd been talking for about 15 minutes when Margaret Tracy came by with three of her hangers on.

"Hey look, it's the Whore, sitting out here on her stoop. I thought you'd be off to the Good Shepherd's by now, Whore."

Margaret, hated Theresa. She'd been embarrassed during the two months that Billy had gone steady with Theresa. She was also upset that Billy would share Theresa with his friends, but kept her from even so much as talking with any other boys, even while he was going out with someone else. For some stupid reason, I wanted to step in and put a stop to Margaret's verbal attack. I didn't like her, but I should have known it would turn out painfully for me.

"If she's a whore, then I guess you're one too, Margaret." That brought her to a screeching halt right in front of us, her and all her friends.

"Me, I haven't spread my legs for every boy in the neighborhood. I'm still a good girl, I'm no whore."

"That isn't what I've been hearing." I just couldn't leave it go. I wanted to really put Margaret in her place, to get her to leave Theresa alone. "I hear you've been letting Billy play stinky finger with you just about every chance you get."

"You're a liar Jackie, a Goddamned liar, and you better take that lie back, RIGHT NOW!!! I've never let any boy do that to me."

"That's funny Margaret, because two nights ago my cousin, Billy, came over to our place to borrow some potatoes for his mom. While he was there, he told me what you and he had been doing, he even let me and Ray (my younger brother) smell his fingers. It sure smelled like he was telling the truth." I passed my own finger underneath my nose, pretending to enjoy the smell. She screeched something incomprehensible at me and ran off, moving back in the direction she'd originally come from. Her little pack of sycophants following much slower behind, whispering and giggling as they left.

It wasn't five minutes later that my cousin, Billy, came racing around the corner, he had a look on his face that sent an immediate jolt of pure terror straight to my heart. I knew my big mouth had just gotten me in a world of trouble. I was at least six inches taller than Billy, but he was two and a half years older, and probably fifty pounds heavier. I would be no match for him in a fight, and he quickly proved that to be the case. He began by punching me in the nose, it hurt like hell and when I put my hand up to feel it, it came away with lots of blood.

The next thing he did was punch me in the stomach and knee me on the side of my head as I doubled over. It is a good thing I turned my head to the side as I was bending down, otherwise I'd have taken his knee flush on my face. As it was, the force of his knee sent me sprawling on my back and he then proceeded to kick me a dozen good kicks in my side as I tried to squeeze myself up into a ball. For once I was glad all the padding on my coat had fallen to the bottom of my liner, because that padding probably prevented me from getting broken ribs. Being stomped also took my mind off of how cold I was. I heard a lot of yelling, and after that, no more kicks came. I risked a peek out from the covered position, and saw my Aunt Margaret leading Billy away by his arm. She was yelling at him the whole time, and he was just following along, allowing her to drag him away.

I stood up and tried to inventory all the places that I hurt. My head hurt, my nose hurt and it was still oozing lots of blood. I was crying, embarrassed by the public humiliation, and my side hurt a lot. I saw Theresa looking out the window of her front door. Margaret was standing about 15 feet away, surrounded by her friends, and some of Billy's friends too, gloating over at the sad spectacle I made. She had a sneer firmly fixed on her face, enjoying herself, watching as I tried to wipe the blood off of my face. She was enjoying all my tears, and seeing the snot and blood being wiped on the sleeve of my coat.

The sleeves on my coat were so short, wiping my nose only managed to get my long sleeved shirt all messed up instead. I finally started to walk over to my house, slowly climbing the stairs, and going inside. I knew my troubles were only just beginning, because I knew my Aunt would be over later to give my mom a play by play on what had happened out there. My father was a stern disciplinarian, and I had no doubt that he'd happily wade in and add to my woes.

I was right. My mom listened carefully when her sister came over and told her. She told a story about how I deserved what I got for spreading all these terrible lies about her poor baby, Billy. When my dad pulled in, an hour later, he got an earful from my mom. After hearing what she said, he came storming into the room my brother and I shared to hear what I had to say for myself.

He didn't seem too upset about the events leading up to me getting my ass kicked, he was more concerned that I had let my cousin beat me in a fight. My dad was a very tough guy, he didn't like seeing any son of his getting his ass kicked by someone who was smaller than him.

"Okay Yutch, (his nickname for me) here's the deal. I'll go over to your Aunt and Uncle's place with you, and you can kick the shit out of that little piss ant, and I'll keep the rest of that tribe off of you. Your other choice is to stay here, like a goddamned coward, and I'll kick your ass all the way to next week myself. So, it's up to you, how do you want to do it?" My dad was always good with giving me all these choices. Unfortunately, these choices were nearly always between the fire pan or the fire kinds of choices.

I told him that I wanted to go over there and kick Billy's ass. He smiled at me, letting me know that he thought I'd made the only intelligent choice. I hoped that Billy might be at least a little intimidated by my dad being there, and maybe pull some of his punches and refrain from kicking me altogether. At least, not kicking me after he had knocked me down. I also had some small hope that other, cooler, heads might prevail. I mean, you would think that the combination of the other three adults might convince him that his way was folly. Fat chance.

We walked right over from our front door to Uncle Bill's house in our bare shirt sleeves. It was only fifty or sixty feet, but it was damn cold out. My mother threw on her coat and ran right after us, yelling for my dad to stop and tell her what hare brained thing he was planning to do now. My dad pounded on the front door and twisted the knob and walked right through their hallway and on into their living room, pulling me along as he did so.

My uncle Bill was sitting in his recliner, just trying to get himself up to go answer the door. Cousin Dale was sitting at the kitchen table, probably busy doing his home work and Billy was back listening to the radio in his bedroom. My mother ran in and shut the door behind her and ran to the kitchen to get her sister. The two sisters then came running into the living room just as my dad started to bellow out his challenge.

"Billy Blackwell, you sneak attacking, cowardly little fucker, get your ass out here and get what's coming to you!"

Everyone, with the exception of my father and I, thought that my dad meant that he was the person who was going to kick Billy's ass, not me. Everybody else but my father, knew that Billy could kick my ass with one hand tied behind his back. Billy somehow, upon hearing my father's angy shouting, managed to get his bedroom window opened, no small feat in the dead of a New England winter. After he had put his jacket on, he hightailed it away from the house, staying away for the rest of that night. Uncle Bill tried to reason with my father, but he stopped as soon as my dad announced to everyone in the house that Uncle Bill was close to getting his own clock cleaned, if he didn't step aside, and let the two boys fight it out.

Once my father had been convinced that my cousin had turned tail and run away, rather than face me in a fair fight, his family honor was satisfied and he, mom and I returned triumphantly to our own house. I felt like I'd been granted a repreive from death row. Sure, I figured that Billy would probably kick my ass again the next time he saw me, but, at least, for one night, I was spared more pain and humiliation. I was satisfied.

My Cousin Dale had always liked me, and could usually be counted on to side with me against most people, especially his brother, who he considered nothing more than an animal. Even though Dale was two years older than Billy, he had not escaped having suffered humiliating ass kickings at Billy's hands, since the time Billy was about 12. It had only stopped a couple years ago when Uncle Bill gave Billy a terrible beating with his belt, and warned him that he'd kill him the next time he laid a finger on his brother. Billy believed him, as did the rest of the family.

Dale was unquestionably Uncle Bill's favorite, and he'd said many times, that Dale was his only hope of having a child that might one day amount to something. The next morning, when Billy came sneaking back home, Dale told him that my father had said that he was going to beat Billy to death with his bare hands if he ever caught him even looking funny at me again. He told him that my father had cried in frustration when he discovered that Billy had gotten away from him the previous evening. Billy wasn't real smart, but he was cunning, so he decided that it would be a good thing if the two of us made up before the next time he ran into my dad.

Billy came over to my house early that morning and apologized for attacking me. He told me that he hadn't wanted to do it, but that Margaret had sworn that he'd never get so much as a handshake from her again if he didn't kick my ass. He also mentioned that, because of my big mouth, he wouldn't be letting me share in any reports of his progress with Margaret. I'd already proven that I couldn't be trusted to keep my damn mouth shut about it.

I forgave him magnanimously, and told him that I'd do my very best to try to talk my dad into forgiving him too. Later that evening I told my dad that Billy had come over and apologized to me. I told him I'd had to slap Billy around a little, but had finally forgiven him after he promised to never sucker punch me again.

My dad praised me for being so lenient with Billy, after all, he said, he was family. I felt like I'd somehow walked through a minefield and arrived safely on the other side.

The day after that, I was out in my front yard, trying to think of something I could do that didn't involve me freezing my ass off, when Theresa opened her front door and beckoned for me to come over there. I walked over to her steps and climbed up to her little front porch. She looked all around behind me before she reached out, grabbed at my coat, and pulled me quickly inside. The first thing I noticed was that her house was at least twenty degrees warmer than mine was. Her parents obviously let her run the coal heater during the daytime. My folks never did, coal was too expensive to be wasting it they said.