锘? Somewhere around the summer between my 5th and 6ths grade
years at EV Cain Elementary School a girl named Rhonda moved from Grass Valley
to Auburn
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fascinated me. I saw her sometimes during the summer, going to the show with
other girls, or shopping downtown with her Mother. She was intriguing to me for
some reason. I can't think of that reason now, but I wanted to meet her, or to
do something, anything, so she would notice me. Once I saw her at the town park
up by the Recreation Field, and since I was a fast runner in those days, I
thought I might show her how swift I was, and thereby impress her with my speed.
I had just seen a Superman movie, and was impressed with the whole idea of
speed, and thought she might be too. She was sitting on the lawn with a couple
other girls I knew, and I wished that they would go away so I could impress her
without them saying something like "that's only Duane," or some other dumb thing
girls said back in those days. I waited for probably a half-hour or more for my
opportunity. Her friends didn't budge. But I spotted a beagle running
lickity-split in her general direction, and I thought, "if she sees me running
faster than that dog
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with me!" So I took out at an angle, until I was about parallel with the dog,
and we zoomed side by side within a few feet of the girls and on to wherever the
dog was headed. Before I got out of earshot I heard her ask "who is the dumb kid
with the cute dog?" My heart sank, but my feet ran on. The dog seemed to know
where he was going, but I didn't and within seconds I found myself sliding on my
back across a freshly watered section of lawn. As I slid to a stop, the dog
turned back, gave me a curious look, and licked my face as if to say, "Are you
OK?" I couldn't bear looking back to see if Rhonda was watching, but I heard the
girls giggling, so I was sure she saw the entire show. Later that same summer I
was walking on the sidewalk in front of the Auburn Post Office where my Dad
worked, when I spotted her coming out of the Post Office lobby. She looked so
pretty in her curly, bouncy hair, pink blouse and pedal pushers, that again I
felt the surge of desire coming over me to impress her. I spotted a magnificent
Schwinn bicycle parked by the curb; a bike far more expensive than I could ever
hope to own, and since I was just a few feet from it at the time
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to it and put one hand on the handle bars, like I was just resting after a long
ride through the foothills of the Sierras. To my great surprise, she DID notice
me, and in fact walked directly toward me. When she was no more than a foot away
from me she asked, "OK, what are you doing with my bike?" I mumbled something
about being sorry I had mistaken her bike for mine, and she mumbled something
with the word "stupid" in it, and that was the end of that. She never did notice
me after that, and I guess it's just as well. I understand she went on to become
a very successful waitress in old town Auburn. Now that I've been married for
more years than I care to mention, I've given up the idea of trying to impress
her. Oh, when I'm back in town and drive by the Cozy Spot Cafe where she works,
I'm always tempted to go in and somehow let her know that the boy she scorned
grew up to be a writer. But about the time I start to pull in, my mind goes back
to my first two attempts at impressing her, and I visualize myself telling her
about all the books I have written, and in my mind, she responds by
sarcastically asking if I write about dogs and stolen bikes
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on. Of course, I knew lots of other girls as I was growing up, and I suppose I
had a normal amount of curiosity about them that any young guy had. Roy
Poindexter, a 5th grader, told a bunch of us 4th grade boys that the way to tell
the difference between boys and girls was to tape a small mirror to the toe of
one shoe, then walk casually up to a girl and engage her in conversation, and
simply place the foot with the mirror on it between the girl's feet. Then while
she was talking, we would simply glance down and get a glimpse of whatever was
hiding under her skirt. Roy spoke with the suave confidence of one who had done
it many times. In retrospect, I remember his Mom was a manager of women's
undergarments at J.C. Penny's, so he probably honed his craft by practicing on
the mannequins after hours. Despite his bragging, I have serious reservations as
to whether he ever tried it on a real, live girl, who would have to be both
blind and stupid to stand still for such an obvious ploy. But Billy Roberts
believed him, and announced that he was going to try it the next day at school.
Instead of the scenario turning out the way Roy predicted, the moment Billy
walked on the playground Wanda Johannson spotted the mirror
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the basketball court "Hey Billy! What's that on your shoe?" So that was the end
of that experiment. And with a few notable exceptions, up until about the 7th
grade girls were those "other things" that we boys had no interest in and no use
for, unless it was to check the spelling of some word or to double check on our
homework assignment. We knew girls were different, but we didn't give much
thought to how they differed, except that they threw a baseball funny and used
two hands to shoot a basketball (even a lay up!), and they ran "like girls".
Except Linda Polameri. She threw a ball the right way, ran like a boy, and
nobody would have bet against her in a fair fight. The reason I know that is
because she once got very angry with me in class after I beat her in a class
election, and challenged me to a fight afterward. (Election of class officers
was held twice a year, as I recall, and students pretty much voted by sex; the
girls voted for whatever girl was running, and the boys voted for whatever boy
was running. The only reason I ran was.