S ome people seem to have a very good memory about things.
You know the ones that have happened in their distant past. Some may not. I will tell you now that if items and events occurred in your life that involved with you getting hurt in some way. Whether it's physical, psychological, or emotional.
You never forget these.
It was back in kindergarten, when I was 6-years old, I remember Dad being quite busy and unable to tuck me into bed. Instead he had a babysitter for this. A very strict woman in her 30s. An attractive black woman who always smelled of chemicals strangely enough.
I remember she wouldn't read to me or tuck me in or anything, just have me straight in my bed and in my underwear at 7pm and I was supposed to sleep then. But there is one thing she did which affected me quite deeply.
She would kiss me.
Now I don't mean a quick peck on the forehead or cheek, no she would kiss me hard on the lips for like a full minute all the while rubbing my back. And because she wore so much garish makeup, not just on her lips but all over her face it actually tasted - well I'll be honest, terrible.
I remember her doing this one evening and as she was getting ready to turn out the light, I took the back of my hand and wiped off this glob of wet red off my face to the covers where it was visibly stained.
She saw this though and wasn't the least bit happy.
"Andrew." as that was the name I was given growing up.
"Andrew, did you just wipe off my kiss !?" And she asked it in such a threatening manner.
"No ma'am." I lied.
"Then what were you doing !?" she demanded.
I didn't know. Hell I was just a kid in kindergarten. I just know I felt it was really gross when she gave me those long lipstick and lip-gloss kisses.
But now I had to have looked scared. Now she could've done something, ANYTHING to make me feel better - compared to what she did next.
She quickly left the room on with the light, then came back the rechargeable kitchen knife.
I was already terrified of what was going to happen. But then she buzzed it right in front of me and spoke in a tight whisper, "Don't you EVER wipe off my kisses again, you hear me ! Or I'll skin you alive ! I will cut your skin off, with this !"
"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR ?"
And she buzzed the knife a few more times in front of my eyes. I didn't say a word, I think I was about ready to faint from fright. Finally she flipped off the light and yelled, "Goodnight !"
I remember after that telling Dad that I didn't like or want her as a babysitter. He asked why but I was so scared of her. So frightened. That she would skin me alive as she said, so I couldn't tell him why.
Fortunately when she showed up again the next day Dad didn't just head out as he normally did. Instead he stayed. He spoke.
"Janice, my little boy is telling me that there is a problem going on between you two. Would you like to elaborate on what it is ?"
And for the first time she looked scared. Well, really it was a combination of looks, like she was afraid of Dad but that she WAS going to skin me alive now the moment he left.
I stood and stayed quiet just staring from around Dad, holding on to his left leg and looking around his butt.
She laughed with a big fake grin on her face, "Well I think he just doesn't like the kisses I'm giving him." she said as if it were no big deal.
Dad took it seriously, "You're kissing my son ?"
Now she went on the offensive, "It's just a goodnight kiss."
But then right then I finally found the courage to speak, "You kiss me on lips and it taste awful !"
Her whole face lit up with rage, "You wiped off my kiss ! You remember what I told I would do with you if you - !"
And then she couldn't bite it back soon enough. Dad reached a big meaty palm behind him to push on my head to keep me completely behind him now. And despite how quiet he was in what he said next it was like thunder coming down from the sky.
"And just what would you do to my son, miss Janice ?"
But then she went into a rage. "Look I try to help, I'm doing the laundry and all the chores here ! I don't get any of this sassing from your daughter ! It's your son he's just a troublemaker and I don't think you're ever going to find a babysitter to work with him !"
"You're fired !" Dad yelled.
But she continued as if he never spoke, "Good luck trying to find anyone to work with your retarded boy !"
And she ran out of the house slamming the door behind her. I was in tears at this point. Dad gently pressed, what what is she threatened you with. Finally finally I was brave enough I told Dad what she said she was going to do. With the electric kitchen knife.
Dad was livid. Absolutely furious and I believe he took her to court on a case of child abuse. I didn't have to go to court fortunately as I'm certain that woman would've burned eyes of hate through me all during the proceedings.
* * *
It was many years before I would let anyone ever kiss me again.
We had a few troubles going through babysitters, I remember that. But then Dad found out about Miss Stokes. Yet instead of her coming to visit Dad's house or do chores, we were expected to stay at HER house. That's how she did things.
And usually it was from about 4-5pm Saturday when the parents would drop us off till 9-10am the next day, Sunday when the parents would pick us back up, often in time for Sunday School.
Miss Stokes also had a closet full of really broken down toys and dolls and stuff. And as I saw them I had to believe it wasn't Miss Stokes that was breaking the toys, it was the mean kids there.
And I will tell you what I remember. She was an old, cranky, hard but fair woman. She never took advantage of any of the kids there, and she'd babysit up to 8 at a time.
And she would definitely discipline any kid that didn't mind what she said with this long weapon. A switch she called it. Not the kind that turns a light bulb on, it was a long slender piece of thick plant, like a vine or something, I think it had metal in it.
And she would smack kids with it when they were misbehaving or talking too loud.
And I will tell you that woman was an expert in wielding this thing. All the kids could be grouped up together and she could still smack the daylights out of the one that was misbehaving every time and with perfect aim miss the others.
She also told us of this story. "The old man that lives next door."
That was the thing. She said there was mean old man that lived next door and he loved his peace and quiet.
And if any of us ever got too noisy he'd come on by and he'd KILL that kid ! He'd chop them up into little bits with this axe he carried for chopping wood. She said this in such a serious and believable tone that our eyes got real wide and our mouths got real closed.
The real main attraction at Miss Stokes house was this ginormous old B&W TV set that she had, bigger than any I had ever seen. The kids that were the most respectful and quiet could have permission, look at the TV guide and choose what to watch by turning the channel.
Not once did she ever tell us that the show was too mature or too scary for us. She said we could watch whatever we wanted but we had to be QUIET.
Now as you remember to this day I don't have a television set because I think it's a waste of time. And I think Miss Stokes realized this after a few weeks of seeing me and she took me aside.
"Now Andrew, you're so quiet over there, you're being such a good boy, you don't like TV ? Well you might be interested in this." and she handed me this little peg-board set which came out before LEGO's I think.
And if you read my article, "Why I Program" you can see how I got involved with computers at all, all from that peg-board Miss Stokes handed me.
https://www.writerscafe.org/writing/dw817/1716586/
But this book is about things that happened in my life that shaped my sexuality or lack thereof and how it possibly got skewed along the way. So we'll leave that behind for now.
I remember Dad bringing me by one day. There was a bunch of girls this time, all about my age, 6, and only one other boy than me. The girls were certainly a handful for Miss Stokes. It was bad enough they all stank of perfume but they would gossip gossip GOSSIP.
Lord those girls never shut their mouths ! And Miss Stoke's had given me the peg-puzzle and a place in the "room" (where we all were) that I could play with it.
And now this was curious, she took such an interest in me that she designated this to be "Andrew's Space." and marked off the large room with some colored yarn that no-one except her could enter, so no-one would disturb me from my work with the peg-board.
And I wasn't very sociable anyways so that was fine with me. The things about computer programming I learned from that pegboard !
I remember looking at the TV for just a bit one time. All the girls were watching a really scary movie about a guy tricked into drinking this drug and it turned him into a monster snake. It was really scary ! And then it was time for bed.
We each had our sleeping blankets we brought. Now at the time I had not introduced myself or anything to the girls or even the single boy that was there. And that was fine with me.
I do remember looking at one girl about a leg's length away from me how she looked a lot like Alice In Wonderland from the Disney cartoon I saw a few years before that in a theater. I couldn't stop staring at how pretty she was, her pretty pink heart blankets, and then Miss Stokes put the light out.
Suddenly she leaned over and grabbed me with both arms and stuffed me right up between her legs and underwear and clamped her legs hard behind my head to keep me mashed up in there.
And - it wasn't bad, it actually smelled like sugar and kid's perfume, but I was terrified of girls, I mean what boy wouldn't be ?
I began to whimper when she started stroking my hair and whispering hot in my ear, "Shh ... Shh ... You sleep with me now okay ? You're my little baby."
I was turning around in my head trying to understand what she meant. This hair stroking went on for another minute when Miss Stokes turned on the light apparently forgetting something and walking across the creaky floor.
My little brain didn't have much time to consider what would happen next when that same girl kicked the stuffing out of me to knock and slide me back to my "corner" where my own sleeping bag was.
I cried only for a moment when Miss Stokes had grabbed that switch, then looked at me funny like there was no way I could've made the noise, and set the switch back on the dresser.
She spoke a little irritated, "Time for bed, Andrew. Quiet time."
And, young as I was. I remembered the stroking of the hair and how GOOD it felt. It was wonderful ! The lights went out again, I gave a look to my mystery girl. I know she could see me from the dim light in there but now apparently I was of no interest and she was just settling down in her sleeping bag completely ignoring me.
I remember I cried a little that night, not really sure if I should be glad I wasn't all bunched up against her perfumed underwear or maybe I liked it, I wasn't sure.
It reminded me of something I was reading though.
Dad taught me to read at the age of 1 as that was very important to him, and that's also a different story. But I remember reading a chapter in a book called "The Mouse And The Motorcycle" where Ralph the mouse had driven his motorcycle up inside a girl's sleeping bag at camp I think it was.
And Ralph thought it felt so good and comfortable, like the most delicious warm pillow - there he took a nap - until of course the girl returned and shrieked to high heaven there was a mouse in her blankets.
So I wondered what would've happen had Miss Stokes not have put the light back on.
Would I have become friends with this mystery girl ? Would I be her "little baby ?" Would she have been mean to me, nice to me, would I have to wear diapers to make her happy even though I didn't need them at my age ?
Would we get married ?
All these thoughts twirled in my head like a piece of paper caught in a tornado. My heart was aflutter by how pretty she was, my face was hot from confusion, and I felt sick to my stomach, like I could throw up from complete nausea and dizziness - all at once.
All because of what she did and what she said in those short 2-minutes of time. Last with me to this day.
And while this may have been the first unusual encounter I ever had with a girl it most certainly wouldn't be my last.
END
OF CHAPTER 1
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