Fangs for the Memories
It couldn’t be true.
Could it?
Ah yes, but it was. And all of us kids could all feel it.
There were signs and omens you see.
It was 1965 and another school year was already underway at Louise Van Meter Elementary and the leaves were beginning to turn crimson and gold.
The heavenly perfume of fireplaces starting to be lit to offset the chilly Fall evenings became more ubiquitous in our neighborhoods.
The skies had already dumped a few meager showers over the last few days that were quickly absorbed into the thirsty ground, resulting in that mulchy scent of damp leaves that permeated the air as the sun gently warmed the earth throughout the day.
Already rumors of the teacher’s planning classroom parties were beginning to circulate in school. And one of my favorite heraldings of the beginning of the holiday season – scholastic book catalogs being distributed in class.
It all meant one thing – that Fall was here and for us kids, the Holidays were just around the corner.
And when I say the Holidays I mean the granddaddy of them all CHRISTMAS!
Now hold on this ain’t another Christmas story, at least not yet. And before we dive into that sublime Bacchanalia for children there were a few comparatively minor festivals (at least according to kids) I’d like to cover in my tale.
Scene: Louise Van Meter Playground. Four students – Becky Berry, Bobby Bergman, Amy Fucher, and the Author- that’s me, are sitting on a bench in front of their Classroom 4B eating their lunch. (Please note – there were two Classrooms for children – 4A for smart kids and 4B for kids who were…well ya know it goes without saying).
Becky: (pausing eating her peanut butter sandwich and staring off into space): “I feel so old.”
Bobby: “How can you be old when you’re only in fourth grade?”
Me: “Yeah, you’re a kid like us.”
Amy: “Shhhh…Becky is having an existential moment!”
Me: (whispering to Bobby) “Exiwhatzit? What the heck does that mean?”
Bobby shrugs.
Amy: “She is feeling distraught about the meaning of life.”
Bobby: “Speak English, please.”
Amy: “It means….sigh…ah forget it. She’s just depressed.
Both of Us: “Ohhhh…Depressed!”
Bobby: “What’s bugging you, Becky?”
Becky: (waving her book catalog in the air) “I can’t find one stupid book in this catalog I want to read! They’re all geared for children.”
Me: “I ordered ‘The Woman with the Golden Arm and Other Spooky Stories.”
Becky and Amy: “Ewww!”
Me: (sulking) “Well, it’s almost Halloween.”
Bobby: “I ordered ‘Great Tales of Science Fiction’ by Isaac Romanov.”
Becky: “Boring! And I don’t like science fiction.”
Amy: “How about ‘Anne of Brown Gables’?”
Becky: “It’s ‘Anne of GREEN Gables’ and I’ve read that twice already.”
Bobby: “Why don’t you check out some of the books in the classroom library?”
Both girls give Bobby a withering glare.
Becky: “They. Stock.The Library. From these catalogs. Robert.
Bobby blushes.
Me: “Okay, books aside. Are you guys looking forward to the class parties coming up? I hear there’s gonna be a magician who does all kinds of cool tricks at the next school assembly. Rusty Russel said the guy gave out a bunch of goldfish and rabbits to the audience last time.”
The girls shrug.
Amy: “I guess.”
Bobby: “There’s gonna be a Christmas play this year too. That should be fun.”
Me: “Yeah, but they’ll need someone to play Santa though. I wonder who’s gonna do that?”
Silence. Everyone looks at me.
Me: “ME?! Uh uh. Noooo. Absolutely not.”
Bobby: (wagging his eyebrows at me) “Ho! Ho! Ho! Charlie.”
Becky: “You have gained a lot of weight since last summer.”
Me: “My Mom says I’m just going through a growing stage. That I’m getting ready for a growth spurt.”
Amy: “I think you’d make a great Santa. You got those rosy cheeks.”
Me: “No. No. Look, I’m not even fat. Teddy Behr should do it. The guy outweighs me by fifty to a hundred pounds at least.”
Becky: “You could use a pillow to make you look fatter.”
Me: “Fatter?!”
Amy: “You’d be the star of the show”
Me: “I don’t want to!”
Bobby: “Your belly jiggles.”
Me: “Shut up!”
Amy: “You have a button nose.”
Me: “No, I don’t!!”
Becky: “You’d be perfect!”
Me: No! No!
Bobby: “Say On Dancer! On Vixen!”
Me: “Shut up! Shut the hell up!:…I…I…AUUUGGGHHH! I’M NOT GOING TO BE NO GODDAMN SANTA IN NO GODDAMN DUMB ASS PLAY!!!”
Shocked silence.
Amy: “you…just…swore.”
Miss Napier: (emerging from classroom 4B) “Is everything alright children? I thought I heard some screaming.”
Bobby, Becky, and Amy: (all at once) “Uhhuh, it’s nothing, we’re okay.”
Miss Napier: “I thought I heard someone using “language” too.”
Amy: “Wasn’t us, Miss Napier.”
Miss Napier: (seeing me wiping my eyes with a napkin) “Are you alright Charles?
Me: (clearing my throat) “ahem …I’m fine.”
Becky: “Charlie just choked on one of his Fritos.”
Miss Napier: (before walking away) “Class starts in eight minutes children – so finish up. Charles, eating too fast leads to tummy aches, choking, and weight gain – so slow down and chew your food, please.”
Becky, Bobby, and Amy looked away all shamefaced at the “weight gain” comment by our teacher.
Becky: (hands me another napkin to dry my eyes) “We weren’t trying to be mean, Charlie.”
Me: “I want my mommy.”
***
Things settled down after that somewhat traumatizing exchange with my friends. And even though things got smoothed over between us, I worried that somehow their predictions might manifest themselves and I would be stuck in an embarrassing school play as the titular character “Santa.”
Now I did not want to play Santa – as it would pretty much confirm that everybody thought I was fat.
My God, the teasing and joking I would have received afterward would have been just plain awful.
So during the following months, there was always this underlying dread hovering in the back of my mind as the school year proceeded and we got closer to Christmas.
***
Our Halloween class party was a huge success as our ordered books showed up the day of the party.
Since the class was canceled, I spent most of my party time reading my brand new copy of “The Headless Horseman and Other Terrifying Tales for Boys” while snacking on homemade chocolate chip cookies and drinking green Kool-Ade.
The book cover was a classic in bad taste. A lurid work of art – The title was in gory blood-dripping script and there was a decapitated man dressed in black astride a horse, holding a decomposing head aloft in his upraised fist while a scantily clad large-breasted woman cringed in terror.
Yep, they don’t illustrate covers like they used to. Because today – they’d probably keep the gruesome head on the cover and substitute the chick with some random dude. Which kinda of seems ass backwards to me. But go figure.
Not only were there a lot of homemade cookies n brownies, but there also was a ton of candy being handed out. Most of the time if I wasn’t reading or trading shit I didn’t want to eat, I was dodging slung Candy Corn which was viewed as a substandard Halloween treat.
Now most kids hated the orange and yellow corn syrup kernels, but for some strange reason, I loved the stuff. Heck, not only could scarf this toxic crap by the handful, you could make fangs by sticking two pieces of the uh “Corn” in your upper lip. Pop a couple of these suckers in your mouth and… Viola! Instant Vampire attire.
But as I said, obnoxious kids just ended up pitching the crap at each other or doing goofy stuff like sticking it up their nose – then blowing it out like twin cannons firing when our teacher wasn’t looking.
Years have passed since then, but every Allhallows Eve without fail I buy a little bag of Candy Corn and eat it on this spooky day – cause it wouldn’t be Halloween without it.
And yeah, when no one is looking – I make fangs out of two of them just for fun.
***
Thanksgiving blew past me that year.
Basically, it was the same kind of boring-ass adult get-together where everybody stuffed themselves silly, laid around groaning, and tried not to be the first one to fart in mixed company while watching TV.
The only highlight was mom’s turkey wasn’t burned to an ash.
You see, every year my mother cooked her bird in a brown paper bag in the oven. “I learned this technique at a French cooking school and it keeps the turkey moist,” she’d say.
Well, in theory, that might have been true but each time she’d try it – the bag would invariably catch on fire and our poor avian would come out looking like a victim of the Holy Inquisition – that is after the torture and the burning at the stake part.
***
With Thanksgiving over and me surviving another family Holiday Dinner (thanks to our good friends at the Pepto Bismol Company), I was back in class.
It was late Monday afternoon when Miss Napier announced that she had finalized the casting for our Holiday Play “The Night Before Christmas.” Without further ado, she proceeded to call out the names of the students who would be appearing in the show and what parts they would be playing with rehearsals to follow.
Starting with the narrator and his family members first, she then moved on to the elves (aka Santa’s Little Helpers), followed by the reindeer, saving the role of good ol’ Santa until the very end.
Enviously I watched my friends stand as they were called up to the front of the class to receive their scripts. Becky and Amy were slated to play elves and even Bobby got cast as Rudolph.
Oh, how I fretted during the proceedings as I was sure I was going to be cast in a humiliating part that I did not want to play.
And yet…
It soon became apparent as the various roles were being assigned that if I wasn’t going to be playing “St. Nick” – I would not be in the play.
Me? Not be in THE SCHOOL PLAY?! Now that would have been a cruel twist of fate. No Siree, I did not want to be left out – not when my best friends had been already cast.
And in that final moment, just before the last name was called – I suddenly thought to myself – “I don’t care if I end up playing “Santa” – just let me be in this goddamn show!”
Holding my breath, I got ready to rise when I heard –
“The leading role of Santa will be played by…”
A loud raucous cheer went up from my classmates as the final name was called.
Causing me to collapse in my chair, and hide my face in anguish.
