Across the River
Thanks to everyone who shared my humiliation of spending recess under the clock for trivial punishment for a minor infraction. Some were punished for not doing their homework, borrowing with no intention of returning a pencil and, as one brave man admitted, relieving himself outside on the playground instead of in the bathroom. I don’t remember how old I was when I played on the swing between the school and Miss Ruth Steib’s house. I liked those swings because of the thick wood seats and the chunky chains. Their squeak was very loud, however. I was swinging away, going very high, when I glanced around and realized there were no other children on the playground. The squeak of the swing blocked the sound of the bell. I took a flying leap off the swing and started beelining for the classroom building. Then I felt my legs were a little chilly. I looked down and the bottom of my dress was missing. I turned and looked at the swing and saw the skirt of my dress stuck in the chain and flying in the breeze. Luckily, we wore slips at the time. I ran back to the swing, retrieved my dress part and, wouldn’t you know it, was met by a teacher in the hallway. She took me to the teacher’s lounge where she found a pack of straight pins. That’s how she held my dress together, with what felt like a million pins. She stuck those pins in the fabric so neatly, vertically, from top to bottom. Have you ever felt a million pinpoints nicking your skin when you tried to sit in a desk? My mom had no access to a car during the day because my dad used it for work. So, I stayed that way for the rest of the day and the school bus ride home. I walked like a mummy to keep from further pin attacks on my arms or legs. It took many days before I grew brave enough to swing at school again. When I did, I didn’t go very high and was much more observant of the others on the playground. Oh, and I didn’t have to spend time under the clock for that. Believe me, a few minutes kneeling under the clock would have been a breeze compared to being nicked by a million straight pins.
