A Boys Story - Chapter 2 - The Adventures Of Charles Kent: Uncle Walt and Aunt Hazel, Haircuts, Magic Shops, and Ice Cream after Surgery
A sure sign that great uncle Walt and great aunt Hazel we’re coming for a visit was that their photographs would be set out on the bookshelf in the dining room buffet.
They each had their own individual unsmiling close up of their faces. Uncle Walt was a stern looking man with white, close cut hair and bushy white eyebrows. He was the undersheriff of the town of Sparta. Aunt Hazel was proud to tell you she was the head of the WCTU, the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. Aunt Hazel was a large woman, she said she was “big boned”, but I think she just liked food a lot.
Uncle Walt always wore a dark three-piece suit, generally blue or black with his badge pinned to his vest and covered by his suit coat. Uncle Walt and aunt Hazel would come by the Milwaukee Road train or sometimes they would transport a prisoner to Milwaukee and come in uncle Walt's 1936 four-door Ford sedan. I liked the car because it had a powerful V8 engine and two red lights instead of fog lights over the front fender. When I rode with him he never turned on the siren or red lights in spite of my suggestions that they should be tested.
He kept a close eye on me. I think because my dad told him about some of my adventures. He would always tell me when something was, “not proper”. He also had a way of speaking and telling me that I … “dasn’t do that”. I noticed that some older people had a little different language. I always dreaded it when aunt Hazel would catch me alone because she would get very close to my face and ask the same two questions about my ma and dad, “Charles, have your parents been dancing?” I would always say “no ma’am!” “You know that Methodists DO NOT DANCE it’s sinful … Shakers dance and they are going straight to HELL!” I didn’t know what Shakers were, but I could imagine them hot footing around hell. The second question was, “Has your father been drinking any ardent spirits?? … again I would say “no ma’am” … she would turn her head a little and give me a cold look.
My dad had told me before hand that “spirit” was whiskey and gin and such. He would hide his bottles in the basement coal bucket until they left, which was just a couple of days without a highball. My dad had some old newspaper clipping about my great aunt and uncle busting up stills and speak easy’s, and arresting bootleggers and other criminals. They made for a scary pair that invaded my dreams of wrongdoing and kept me on the path of righteousness … mostly.
The barbershop was across the street from the A & P on Murray next to the shoe repair store. My dad and I would go there together. Our barber was an older man with a fringe of dark hair around his ears and a bald top … his name was Jim. My dad always got his haircut first. I would look at comic books and other magazines. I watched the other three barbers and listened to the conversations. The barbershop smelled great and the barbers were all dressed in little white coats that went up on their necks.
They had black chairs with more chrome than my dads Pontiac. The chairs could go up and down and around with a foot pedal. Some customers would also get a shave. I had watched my dad shave at home using hot water with some Williams shaving soap in a mug with a handle and a stubby brush.
The site of my own blood made me nervous. When it was my turn the barber would dust off the chair and put a little padded seat between the big arms of the chair so that I sat up high enough for him to work on my head … my feet fit on the chair seat. Jim never said much to me. He would go right to work and we would be done … good for another three weeks before our next appointment.
On Friday as the hour of our barber appointment approached Ma got a phone call at home from dad saying he couldn’t make it home on time to take me. Ma wanted me to go to the barber because we had school pictures coming up soon. Ma said if my hair was long it looked “like I combed it with an egg beater”. She asked me if I could “go alone” and if I was a “big boy” … yes, I answered I know how to do it, I thought. So Ma gave me a dollar and off I ran. Jim had received a call from Ma to let him know I was coming … he smiled at me as I arrived all by myself. He dusted off the chair put up the padded seat for me and I hopped right up to where I had always sat. Jim put the big barbers cloth around my neck same as usual, but then he asked me a question … he had never asked me a question before … “Well Little Charles … do you want sideburns?” … my mind raced … “Sideburns?” I didn’t know what he was talking about … I thought “burns”. I don’t want them to burn anything. I had seen some hot stuff in the Barber shop, so I said “NO”. Well my hair started to fly off of me as the scissors snipped and the clippers buzzed. I watched hair roll down the cloth to the floor … and then Jim lathered up my head and shaved it … I was getting nervous, but I couldn’t look in the mirrors behind me. Suddenly he was done. Jim swung the chair around so I could look in the big mirror … I was totally scalped! I look like an orphan with a shaved head.
I suppressed the scream. I didn’t wait for the nice smelling lotion … I threw the big cloth off dropped the dollar in the chair as I hopped down and ran for home. I looked awful. I knew the kids at school would tease me … I looked like a NAZI … like Heinrich Himmler. Maybe I could wear a hat, maybe I could skip school for a week till I got some hair back. Finally Dad got home and I could tell he wanted to laugh at me, but he didn’t. Ma said she would massage my head and that would make the hair grow faster and I had two whole days before school started again on Monday. I did wear a beanie to school with my Kellogg Pop pins on it in hopes that the kids would look at the pins and not my head.
Mrs. Rogers made me leave the beanie in the cloak room. When I entered her room the only kids who seemed to notice me were the orphan boys. They just looked and smiled and nodded to me as I found my chair. Dad and I didn’t go back to see Jim the barber for a whole month.
Shopping was something I always did with my mother. We would jump on a street car and generally go downtown to Gimbles and other stores on Wisconsin Avenue.
Once we had our picture taken by a photographer who snapped us as we walked bye … he gave us a little card Ma mailed it in with some money to get our picture. Ma was wearing a new dress and some black and beige shoes that match her hat and purse. I had a new shirt and short pants … we looked spiffy. Ma liked to dress up for shopping because you “never know who you’ll run into.” The picture arrived, Ma looked great with a nice smile, I was holding her hand, with the other hand I was busy picking my nose, luckily we only ordered one copy. When we were downtown we sometimes ate at Tasty Town, but my favorite place to go was the Plankington Arcade. There was a fish pond with big goldfish and a bronze statue of John Plankington looking at his fish.
Plankington Arcade
There was a magic shop in the arcade. I liked to buy some tricks like a coin that would disappear or some trick playing cards. Once I bought some “stinky sticks” that you could put into cigarettes that would make them smell really bad. Both my parents smoked, they preferred Lucky Strikes and ma smoked Paul Mans. They just made me cough and made my eyes water when they smoked in the car. This would be the perfect trick. When I had a chance at home I opened the stinky sticks package. They look like little pieces of toothpicks with some brown stuff on them. The instruction said to “push one stick into the cigarette and watch the fun.” I did. After supper both my parents lit up their smokes … within a few seconds the kitchen smelled terrible. My parents were bent over coughing and waving the air as they snuffed out their cigarette butts, my dad noticed me smiling and holding my nose. He figured it out. He motioned me over to him with a crooked finger in a not-too-stern look. When my dad was really angry he made big wrinkles between his eyebrows. He pointed to his open parlor. I pulled out the box of stinky sticks from my pocket and put them into his hand. My dad always like a good joke “do you have any more sticks Charles?” he asked as he looked at the box … “NO SIR” … he counted out the remaining eight sticks “I don’t have any more stinky sticks. I didn’t tell him about the “BANG STICKS” which I also got at the magic shop. That joke would keep for another day.
My mother and I often went to Columbia Hospital where I was born. It wasn’t a visit, its just that things happen to me by the time I decided to take a shortcut from the community victory garden plot across the back fence into our yard. Well, I fell off the top of the fence into some broken glass and had to get stitches on both knees. I like nurses, my grandma Arn was a private duty nurse in Portage. At Columbia hospital, nurse Rita generally took care of us. Whenever she saw me she would put her hands on her hips and slowly move her head from side to side asking … “Charles what are you doing here AGAIN?"
Columbia Hospital
When I was born I was what you would call a preemie. My dad said he would leave me on his forearm with my head on his palm and my feet couldn’t reach his bicep … I was pretty small. One summer I came down with a bad sore throat. I have had sore throat’s before, and this one would not go away. Dr. Pertman told my parents I should have my tonsils taken out. I found out later he had also suggested that this word be a good time to circumcise me as it was not done when I was born a preemie.
Well I wasn’t too sure about going to the hospital. I didn’t like to let my blood out and nurse Rita told me that some people die in a hospital, but she assured me that they took out dead people real fast. So armed with about 20 new comic books, cowboy pajamas and a picture of Gene Autry I was on my way for my first operation early one morning. The nurse gave me some pills and stuff and I was soon feeling sleepy. Then I saw a big swirling circle, just like in the movies. When I woke up I was back in a room with some other quiet kids. My throat was still sore and I was shocked to see my weenie had a white bandage on it. As the grogginess wore off I begin to read one of my comics. A nurse came in and fluffed my pillow asking if I was ready for a treat! … a treat? She said “yes, ice cream!” She came back with a big bowl of vanilla and said “this will help where it hurts … the cold will make the swelling go down” … she handed the big bowl to me, turned and left. Did she want me to put my weenie in the ice cream? They didn’t make any sense. As the bowl was cold I set it in my crotch and slowly slid the cold vanilla down my throat one delicious spoonful at a time … I even got some more ice cream later. I was going to ask my parents exactly where are my tonsils and how long are they, but Dr. Pertman came for a visit and explained everything.
The Fourth of July was a holiday for kids … loud , colorful with lots to eat and things to do. Generally we could find a parade and a free flag. High school bands would play concerts and march, but soldiers and sailors were overseas fighting and seldom marched except for Navy Color Guards from the Great Lakes Naval training station. Community fireworks were loved by everyone, but the loud ones also scared me … like thunder! Sometimes we went to Lake Park and sometimes we went to the Band Shell in Washington Park where the zoo is located.