The only class I ever skipped was biology. I hated that class but I'm not sure why I picked that day to skip. Maybe had a test, I don't know, but I'd almost say there was no reason...just felt like skipping.
Probably the earliest memory I have is of me and Charles riding our tricycles around in a circle in the garage. I don't think dad used it for anything.
I remember when Snooky had a litter of puppies (the first?). I don't recall how many there were but only a couple survived. If they had been given names I don't remember what they were. I had a favorite but dad gave him/her away to some guy. It's all kind of fuzzy but I think dad told us that this guy had driven by and his daughter had seen the dog. She wanted it so they pulled over and somehow or another the dog left with them. In hindsight it seems unlikely that something like that could have happened. I mean, think about it. Guy's daughter wants a strangers dog? Daughter's father actually stops and asks for the dog? Guy gets the dog with no money transacted (that I know of). I wish I knew what happened to that little puppy but I'm pretty sure it's not THAT.
The other surviving dog was run over by a car in the road in front of our house. I won't forget the sight of him, blood stained white fur, his head was pretty much crushed.
Looking back now I could well be wrong about these two being the only survivors. I seem to recall bringing one to the new house when we moved. If that was the case, and the more I think about it the more I'm convinced that was it, I don't have any idea what happened to it.
Speaking of tragedies involving dogs...Charles had a friend named Lawrence who used to come visit the house often. He had a dog named Queenie. I have no idea why but Queenie was with him this one day. We were all three riding bicycles up and down the road, Queenie chasing after us. I saw a luxury size car crawling up the road. I mean, it was going really slow so it surprised me that when it hit Queenie she went down. There was an old lady driving and she must not have realized she'd hit the dog because she just kept right on driving, head up, eyes straight. Lawrence was really shook up about it, and I can remember the way he sounded calling her name.
I might have felt sorry for him at the time. But not too long after that we got into an argument and I made him leave. He must have been pretty mad because as he walked down the driveway he cursed me profusely. There was an older lady who lived next door, Mrs. Huggins, and when I thought of her hearing the fowl things Lawrence was yelling I couldn't just let it lie. I ran out after him and basically beat the shit out of him. That felt good. I really didn't like Lawrence much even before that, maybe he would get the message and stop coming around.
I don't know what it was with our fascination with drugs. We (Charles and I) had no real intention of actually doing actual drugs, but there was something about it...We used to take gelatin capsules and fill them with Kool-Aid or sugar or whatever fine powder we had around. I don't think we ever took one, but believe it or not I actually sold a few to a guy down the street. Kevin A. and me would mix sugar and flour together, put it in sandwich bags and take them to school, pretending to be dealers.
We didn't do that stuff for long, but once when I was a senior I told a fellow student that I had some "really good shit" that would get him really really high. I wouldn't have done this were it not for the naivette of this dude, he got picked on quite a bit. Anyway we gave him a couple of pills and pretended to take a couple ourselves. Then we drove around town for a while saying stuff like, "wow, man, I am really getting off on this!" We asked this kid if he was "feeling it yet". He did say he was getting high. Maybe it was pyscosomatic or maybe he was just wanting to fit in. I feel really bad about how I treated him and a few other people in high school.
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