Brother
My oldest brother Walt, was four years older than me and always an
enigma not only to me, but to the rest of our family as well. He was
what you might call a loner. He liked people all right, and he loved a
good book, but he much preferred his own company.
Walt was already a senior in high school, by the time I reached the
eighth grade and not only was he was on the cross country team, but he
was quite a good basket ball player too. Walt really only played
basketball because he liked Mr. Grant, who was the junior varsity and
varsity basketball coach and was a much loved teacher at Ashland High
School. Mr. Grant possessed a very dry wit and infinite patience and
drinking secretly also helped him cope with all of his students and their
problems.
It was only because of Walt that I passed eighth grade math. You
see, Mr. Grant was also my math teacher and after tryin and failin
numerous times to get me to comprehend simple math and compound
fractions, he finally heaved in the towel. “Stevens,” he said in a hopeless
voice to me. “If your brother Walt, wasn’t such a good basketball
player, I’d flunk you! As it now stands, I’m going to give you a C
minus, and I sincerely hope you can find a career which doesn’t involve
math of any kind!”
Walt stood about five feet ten and he had mother’s deep brown eyes
and her auburn hair which he wore slicked back in the duck tail style,
the latest fashion of the day. Dad had been bald since he was nineteen
and this worried Walt excessively. He’d stand in front of the kitchen
mirror day after day and comb his hair over and over again, tryin to git it
jist right while he whistled the latest Elvis Presley tune.
Since our house was located about five miles from the town of
Ashland, we had to ride the school bus all year round and one cold,
winter’s day we had a new bus driver who was actually a cousin of ours.
Not a well-liked cousin, but a cousin anyway. As we were boardin tha
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bus at the high school for tha journey home one afternoon, our cousin
waited impatiently for all of us to stop pushin and shovin and yellin as
teenagers are want to do and then he turned around in his seat so that he
could git a real good look at all of us.
He slid his cold, blue eyes over every last one until we’d stopped
yappin and then he announced that tha next person he caught talkin
would be immediately kicked off and would have to walk the rest of tha
way home.
Surveyin us as though we were a bunch of hardened criminals, he
waited for our response and gettin none, with a final glare at all of us, he
snapped his mouth shut and turned around to drive.
That particular afternoon the temperature was hoverin around minus
twenty degrees and the wind was gustin out of the Canadian north
between fifteen and twenty miles per hour. It was not a good night for
walkin!
Now Walt was a lover of all females, and he jist couldn’t resist talkin
to the pretty Gendreau girl who was sittin across the aisle from him. He
made some snide comment about the driver’s announcement and the
second time he opened his mouth, our cousin slammed on his brakes,
and the bus came to a reluctant, lurchin stop. His angry eyes flashed fire
in the rear view mirror and lookin directly at my older brother, he
yelled! “Okay, Stevens, I warned yah! Git your sorry ass off my bus!”
Walt, looked back at our cousin for a long moment and indecision
about what to do roiled through his brain and then decidin that a fight
jist wasn’t worth it, he shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner,
winked at the lovely girl sittin next to him, picked up his basketball
gear, sauntered down the long isle and stepped down into the road.
Walt knew that with his running ability, he’d make it home long before
the bus had made it all the way up the Fenderson Road to tha turn
around at the Rossignol’s house. But that wasn’t good enough for the
bus driver. He looked at the rest of us sheepishly sittin there, and he
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yelled again, “I mean all you Stevens!” Surprised, Jake and Bub and I
all looked at each other and we too, got off the bus.
It was a long, cold walk on a freezing winter afternoon and all the
way home; we plotted and schemed about how we were going to get
our revenge on Walt and the bus driver. We never did make good on
any of our plans, but the energy generated by all our planning and
scheming kept us from freezin to death. We never did catch up with
Walt, because as soon as he got off the bus, he quickly set his crosscountry runnin pace, and he sailed over the hills and valleys and was
home long before we were.
Walt had discovered girls early, and he really loved the pretty French
girls who lived in the small settlements in and around Ashland. He had
the unique ability to learn and imitate any other language that he heard,
and before we knew it, he was speakin quite passable slang French and
he was especially proficient in swear words. Walt was quite gifted and a
voracious reader and our family didn’t really know jist how gifted Walt
was until much later on in his adult life.
When Walt was in his junior year in high school, he fell in love with
a lovely French girl by the name of Jessie, who lived in the Portage Lake
area of Aroostook County, which was about thirteen miles from
Ashland. He’d hitchhike the thirteen miles to visit Jessie for a little
while and then thumb a ride home again. It became a well-known joke
around town that when Walt complained to Coach Grant that the
basketball warm-ups were really gittin tiresome, tha coach would eye
him closely for a couple of seconds, grin and reply, “Hey Stevens, don’t
complain to me. Jist pretend that you’re runnin out to Portage Lake to
visit Jessie. Oh, and Stevens, make that another four laps for all your
whinin and complainin!” All his classmates would have a good laugh as
Walt continued runnin extra laps around the gym.
By the time Walt became a senior, he realized he was losin ground
where Jessie was concerned, and he turned his attention further north. It
wasn’t too long before he discovered the little town of Eagle Lake. As
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Walt and his best friend Jimmy soon discovered, it also had many
beautiful French girls. The other attraction was a road house named
Peter Pan, where, even if you were underage, on most any night of the
week, you could still git a watered down drink.
Come Saturday night, Walt and Jimmy could usually be found down
by the corner of Saint Mark’s Catholic Church in Ashland, all spruced
up and tryin to hitch a ride to Eagle Lake. Since Ashland and Eagle
Lake were strong rivals in the interschool basketball games along with
Fort Kent and the Allegash, boys from Ashland were not exactly
welcome to come and check out the girls in Eagle Lake and vice versa.
Whenever the competin teams from all around “tha County” came
to Ashland to play a game, win, lose or draw, they’d write graffiti on the
locker room walls, kick in the shower room doors and do other
unmentionable things to the changing rooms at Ashland High School.
Consequently, there was great hostility between the teams and every
slight was recorded for later retaliation. Competition was keen durin
basketball tournaments, but it was even keener when the prize was a
lovely French girl.
One particular fall evenin, Walt and Jimmy set out for a “man’s”
night out in Eagle Lake. They were dressed to the hilt in new jeans and
sneakers, and their hair was combed back in the popular “Duck’s Ass”
style. They considered it a good omen when after havin hitch-hiked for
only ten minutes; they were picked up by a sympathetic Canadian truck
driver and deposited right outside their desired goal.
Peter Pan’s was already jumpin as Walt and Jimmy hurried through
the door and they quickly latched on to a couple of girls and started
dancin. Walt was jist beginnin to enjoy himself when Jimmy suddenly
punched him in the arm and motioned for Walt to look over his
shoulder. Walt adjusted his steamed up glasses and his breath made a
whistling sound as it was involuntarily sucked into his lungs by what he
saw.
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Standin at the edge of the long bar were five of the basketball players
whom they’d played against the previous night. Walt vividly
remembered the sore feelins and muttered threats after the hard-won
ball game, and his head began tellin him that a situation was about to
happen. Jist as he began slidin his eyes around the smoke-filled room
looking for a possible escape route, the leader of the group suddenly
pointed at Walt and Jimmy with a cry of recognition.
They immediately ditched the girls and began a fast shuffle towards
what appeared to be the rear exit door. Walt grabbed the handle and
pulled the door open and he and Jimmy rushed in. To their surprise,
they discovered it was the men’s toilet. Jimmy slammed the door shut
and locked it. “God damn it all ta hell! How’re we going to git out of
here Jim?” Walt asked. Jimmy looked wildly about the room, and then
he pointed to a small window located jist above the toilet. Walt
shrugged and stepped onto the toilet seat, and he reached up and shoved
the window open. It slid upwards with a dry screeching sound and with
a quick thrust of his hand, he dislodged the rusty screen.
“Jaysus, Jim, give me a boost, will yah.” Walt ordered and Jimmy
grunted as Walt climbed onto his shoulders. Walt twisted and struggled
and finally slipped headfirst through the window and disappeared.
Jimmy stared at the empty darkness above him and at that moment,
there came a sound of splintering wood from the bathroom door behind
him. This was all the impetus Jimmy needed, and he didn’t wait to see
what fate had befallen Walt. As he later said to Walt, “My mother didn’t
raise no fools en my ass was gonna burn!”
Jimmy jumped onto the toilet seat and lunged for the open window.
He groped for the windowsill with his fingers and his fingernails made
scrabbling noises against the dried out wood. He cursed and lunged
again and with the desperation of a condemned man, he connected. He
pulled his body up and he was teeterin half in and half out of the
window. Jim called out to Walt and he heard a muffled reply and that
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was all he needed. He didn’t wait to hear anything else, he let go and
fell headlong to the ground below.
Jimmy grunted as his body hit the hard ground, and then he suddenly
found himself sliding very rapidly downwards. “Not too bad,” he
thought to himself and in the next instant, he became aware that his
senses were bein assaulted with a multitude of data, and it was all bad!
He felt and smelled things at exactly the same instant and a feelin of
clingin wetness overrode all the other feelins. He felt wet right up to his
neck, but along with the wetness came a clammy, slimy feelin.
Whatever he’d landed in didn’t jist cling, it oozed and slid too. He
pulled his hand out of the muck and tried to wipe off his face so that he
could see where he was, and he gagged as he brought his hand up and
the powerful stench hit him full in the face.
“Walt! Walt! Where tha frig are yah?” Jimmy whispered. Off to his
right Jimmy heard a sucking sound and then came a sloshin kind of
movement in his direction. He gingerly turned and finally he saw Walt
for the first time. Only, Walt didn’t look like the same person who’d
disappeared through the window jist a few moments before. He was
covered with black, slimy shit from one end to the other. They were
now “swimmin” in Peter Pan’s cesspool.
“If you laugh Jimmy, I swear tah Christ, I’m goin to kill yah!” Walt
whispered hoarsely as Jimmy lost control and fell over with laughter into
the muck. Walt grabbed Jimmy and pushed him face down in the
cesspool and Jimmy gagged and tried desperately to pull away. After
Walt let go of him, Jimmy did his best to wipe tha muck off his face and
all he managed to do was smear tha stuff sideways. Walt took one look
at his best friend and in his best southern accent said, “Smile Jim, so I
can see where you is.” That was all they needed, they doubled over
with laughter and shit flew in all directions.
A few seconds later, there was the sound of the door breakin open in
the bathroom above and the sound of angry voices floated down to
them on the damp night air. Knowin that they were sittin ducks, Walt
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grabbed Jimmy, and they began making their way to the edge of the
septic tank. Walt found the edge of the grass and quickly pulled himself
up out of the mess, then he reached behind him and grasped Jimmy’s
outstretched hand and pulled him free of the oozing muck.
They furtively crept along the edge of the building and slipped
between the rows of parked cars until they reached the main road, and
then they headed south at a pretty fast clip. They ran until they couldn’t
run anymore and about a couple of miles down the road, they slowed
down to a fast walk so they could catch their breath. Jimmy kept
moanin and repeatin over and over, “Oh God!” “Oh Jaysus!” “Oh
God!” Every now and then, he’d reach up and wipe the oozing, putrid
stuff off his face with the back of his hand and fling it into the dirt at the
side of the road.
They’d been walkin for about five miles when they finally heard the
sound of an automobile approachin from behind. Walt grabbed Jimmy
and pushed him down into the nearest ditch, and they lay where they
were as the car rushed on past them into the dark night. “Jayus Walt,
why’d yah do that?” Jimmy asked. “I thought we needed a ride!” “It
might have been those guys back at the bar and I didn’t want tah take
any chances because they know we’re from Ashland.” Walt replied.
“Oh yah, I forgot about that,” Jimmy mumbled.
They pulled themselves up out of the ditch and trudged on down the
deserted road. After what seemed like miles, they again heard the sound
of an automobile approaching in tha distance. Walt moved to the
shoulder of the road and stuck out his thumb and as tha car slowed to a
halt, Walt pushed Jimmy forwards towards the car. Walt yanked open
the door, shoved Jim in and climbed in beside him. The driver looked
at the two of them in disbelief, and gittin a strong whiff of how horrible
they smelled, he covered his nose with his hand and screamed, “Out!
Out! Get out!” Walt wrenched open the door and stumbled out pullin
Jimmy after him. The driver slammed the door shut and took off with a
squeal of tires.
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Walt, who loved Elvis with a passion, always wore his hair in the
“duck tail” fashion and his dark auburn hair was usually combed until it
was absolutely perfect, and he always had a comb in his pocket ready to
fix any hair that fell out of its coifed arrangement. Since tha fall into tha
cesspool had completely undone his locks, Walt felt tha need to fix his
hair. He dug around in his shirt and whipped his comb out of his shitfilled pocket and began combing his matted, slimy hair. He combed and
patted until he had every strand back in place, and it felt jist right!
Then, he turned to Jimmy and with a smile in his voice said, “You
know Jim, shit sure makes a good hair settin gel, don’t yah think?”
Jimmy jist ignored him and walked on.
Tha shit-encrusted boys walked on for miles and miles, and as the
wan moon was slidin towards the western horizon, Walt turned to
Jimmy and said. “One good thing to remember Jim, mosquito’s jist
never bite a shitty man!” Jimmy merely groaned and kept on walkin
with his head down. The only sound that could be heard in the pitchblack night was the sound of their basketball sneakers hittin the
pavement and the squish of the muck between their toes. They’re feet
seemed to be mocking them saying, shit... shit... shit... shit... shit, as
they placed one tired foot in front of the other on the long journey
home.
Walt survived that ordeal and went on to graduate with the class of
“59.” In search of a better life than “tha County” had to offer, he
promptly joined the army and was sent to Fort Devin’s, Massachusetts
for basic training. It was there that Walt was “discovered,” so to speak.
Not only was he a sharp shooter with a rifle, but he could look at a
document that was upside down and sideways and memorize it in a
matter of seconds. He had total recall. He also had an undeveloped
linguistic ability. Walt was sent off to Officer’s Candidate School,
Protocol School and various other agencies of the United States
government. It didn’t take them long to realize that they had a rare
specimen on their hands.
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Walt traveled all over the world during his career with the military.
He even got to “visit” Vietnam not once, but twice. He sometimes
came home for short visits before he was assigned to another tour of
duty. Walt was on his way up and there was no stoppin him.
Walt worked hard and he was very happy about his success and
whenever he acquired a new possession, he never failed to call mother
and dad to tell them about it. It took Walt quite a while to settle down
with one woman and when he finally tied the knot, he called to tell us
that he was bringin his wife home to meet everyone. Walt arrived
home in a flurry of excitement, and he couldn’t wait to show off his
beautiful wife, Ginny and his shiny new Cadillac.
A couple of mornings after he’d arrived; Walt went outside to admire
his dream car only to find that his brand new automobile had a flat tire.
He opened the trunk to discover that there wasn’t a spare tire inside.
He slammed the trunk shut and stormed into the house to call around to
try and find another tire. He didn’t bother to call the local garage in
Ashland first, he called garages in Presque Isle, Caribou and even down
to Houlton, to no avail. He hung up the phone and slumped dejectedly
into a chair. “God-damned hick town!” He muttered under his breath.
Mother, hearin his retort, stopped washin dishes and turned and looked
at him. “Did you try Michaud’s Garage in Ashland?” She asked.
“No,” he replied. “What makes you think that they’d have that size tire
if all the other garages didn’t?” He asked.
Mother slapped the dishtowel down on the counter and marched
over to the telephone. She quickly dialed a number and after a few
minutes, she turned to Walt and asked him, “What size tire did you say
you needed?” Walt told her and then he asked “Why?” “Well,”
mother replied. “Michaud’s Garage has not one, but two! They used
to keep them on order, especially for old Lizzie Gallup’s Cadillac. You
can pick one up any time you want.”
Shortly before dad died in 1982, Walt came home for a short visit.
Walt was now living in Virginia and had a nice job with the National
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Security Agency in Washington. Dad was lyin on his bed, and Walt
was sittin in a chair across from him. Every so often, the lulls in their
conversation were broken by the sound of a car as it passed our house on
the way to town.
Walt stretched and said to dad, “God dad, I don’t know how you
stand it! Doesn’t all this silence and boredom git to you sometimes?”
Dad lifted his head and looked at Walt. “I guess a feller gets used to it
after livin here sixty-eight years.” “Not me!” Walt retorted. “I’d
never git used to it. That's why, right after graduation, I joined tha army
to have a look at the way the other half lives and now that I have a little
of what the other half has, I can’t understand why anyone with half their
faculties would ever stay in this God-forsaken place. Look at you, dad,
what have you got to show for all your years of hard work and honesty?
Why, you can’t even get Social Security for a job that you held for
twenty-five years! When I retire, at least I’ll have something to show
for it!”
Dad painfully raised himself up on one elbow and looked more
closely at his oldest son. “Well, you might be right Walt. I don’t seem
to have too many of those material things that you seem to value so
much, but I do have things that your money could never buy.” Dad
took a long breath and went on. “I worked like a dog for twenty-five
years for Maine Seed Potato Growers and when tha company closed, I
didn’t git a dime. I couldn’t collect Social Security for all those years
because tha Social Security Act wasn’t even passed until tha nineteen
thirties. A man can’t change tha time of his birth now can he? I’ve
lived a long and hard life, and I don’t have any regrets. I still git up
every mornin at four am and build a fire for your mother, and I went to
work every day, even when I was sick, so that you and your brothers
and sisters would have food to eat. I did an honest day’s work for an
honest day’s pay en I never cheated anyone en I never hated anyone
either. I don’t claim to understand what’s goin on in the world atall, but
for all those friggin educated fellers down there in Washington, I don’t
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see how they’ve managed to screw up tha world as much as they have.
And when everything is said and done, it will all come back to tha little
towns like this one and to people jist like me to get everything back on
an even keel again and don’t yah think it won’t!”
“Dad, I… “Never mind son,” Dad replied. “I always knew that yah
were way too smart and had ideas much too grand to ever to stay in a
place like this one for too long.”
Dad is gone now and Walt is still working in Washington. He
doesn’t come home much anymore, but he still calls on Sunday.
Note: Walt is gone now too. He passed away on November 18,
2010.
Rest in Peace Walt, now you and dad can reminisce forever...
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