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Red Racer
by
GR Oliver
It snowed hard
that night. I had been sent to bed, but stayed up
and watched the snow coming down. Christmas carols
were playing on the radio console in the living
room, and Grandpa was decorating the tree and
singing off key. Grandma was making goodies in the
kitchen for the holidays. I could smell the cookies baking in the oven, all the way down to my bedroom.
Mom had gone to California to be with Dad before he
was shipped out to Hawaii. My father was in the
Navy and going to his new battle station at Pearl Harbor. That winter was the first Christmas I spent
with my Grandma and Grandpa.
It was late, and all I could think about was
tomorrow, sledding, and having fun. I looked out
the window and reminisced, and watched the falling
snow. I missed Dad. I didn’t know when I would see
him next. Mom would be home after Christmas.
I watched the snow float down in big puffy white
balls. It fascinated me. They reminded me of cotton
balls my mother used to put makeup on her legs
with, so it looked like she was wearing silk
stockings. She also would draw a line down
the back of her legs, sometimes crooked and
sometimes straight, so that they would look more
real. I thought that was funny, making your legs
look like you were wearing stockings. But then,
this was the winter of ‘40, and you couldn’t get
silk stockings.
We lived on the south side of Chicago. We had just
moved into a new apartment house that they called
the Projects. I felt lucky because most of my pals
still lived in old apartments down in the Loop. Our
apartment was so new you could smell the paint on
the walls. Even today, when I open a can of
turpentine, and smell that odor, it brings me back
to those days when I was a kid.
When we moved into our new apartment, the first
person I met at the playground was Howy. I thought
he was so keen and grownup. He was wearing his
cowboy suit—all decked out in chaps, vest, boots,
hat, and toting a new shiny cap pistol holstered
at his side. I wanted the same thing on my
birthday, but all I got was a brand new sled—all
spiffy and red.
I lived on the fourth floor, just above Howy’s
apartment, and I could see all the way across the
field below to the IC train tracks that were behind
the Projects. I thought the words IC were awfully
funny, because I thought, how could railroad tracks
see. To me they seemed like miles and miles away. I
liked watching the trains. On a clear night, you
could see the train’s lights in the dark from the engine to the caboose, as it slowly moved across
the field and out of sight. Sometimes, I saw sparks
come from the smokestack, as they flickered and fleeted into the night. The steam engine always
awed me the most, as it chugged, chugged along, and
hooted long and short blasts of steam that screamed
as it passed a street or went under a bridge. But,
that night it snowed so hard, I couldn’t see past
the street below the apartment house.
My elbows rested on the windowsill, and my chin was
cupped in my hands. I looked at those big puffy
white balls that came out of the sky. My head
rocked in rhythm to the falling snow and the carols
that played on the radio, while Grandpa tried to
stay in tune. I pretended that I had snowball
fights, made snowmen, and rode my brand new sled
with my new friend Howy. I was so excited that
night; I wanted to touch the snow right then and
there, but it was not to be. I had to wait until
morning.
Howy was older than I was. I was three years
younger. He was in the third grade. He knew about
everything around the Projects, where to buy candy
and ice cream, where secret hiding places were,
and who were the bad guys and the good guys.
Howy said he was going to show me the ropes the
next day. I thought that was a funny expression.
What did ropes have to do with sledding? Anyway, I
was so excited I had my sled ready in the
stairwell, just outside the back kitchen door. It had never been used before. It had yellow
lettering, with speed stripes coming off the last
word. It was a “RED RACER,” all spiffy and shiny
with chrome runners eager to be used.
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