Items related to Guys: Growing Up

Guys: Growing Up - Softcover

Morrison, R. H.

 
9781475978407: Guys: Growing Up
Softcover
ISBN 10: 1475978405 ISBN 13: 9781475978407
Publisher: iUniverse, 2013

Synopsis

It is 1944 in Ontario, Canada, and Scotty is fifteen. World War II is coming to an end, although the war has left countless scars on Canadian families and the world at large. Scotty has his own problems at home, including an alcoholic father and the fear of being stuck as a small-town nobody his whole life. He can't wait to turn sixteen. Once he's sixteen, he'll be able to go his own way. Maybe he'll drop out of high school. Maybe he'll get a job at General Motors, since the Canadian headquarters are located in his hometown. He has friends to back him up-guys like Neil-the-Wheel, Georgie-boy, Joey, and Rick-the-dick. Together, these guys find their ways into adulthood. Scotty grows up. He soon finds himself involved with the local United Auto Workers union. He still looks over his shoulder in remembrance of the past, but as a young man, his life is open before him. Will he grow up to be better than his Old Man? Will he find success in his job and his relationships? It's a long road to adulthood, and Scotty will soon find that the road is his making.

"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

GUYS

GROWING UP

By R. H. Morrison

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2013 R. H. Morrison
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-7840-7

Contents

Chapter One Friends or Enemies............................................1
Chapter Two Hands on the Wheel............................................11
Chapter Three The Devil or the Angel......................................14
Chapter Four WWII Victory.................................................18
Chapter Five High School Drag.............................................23
Chapter Six Teachers' Guff................................................26
Chapter Seven The Old Man's Car Deal......................................30
Chapter Eight On The Road, Legally........................................35
Chapter Nine Mother's Prayer Answered.....................................38
Chapter Ten Happy Face Pays His Debt to Joey..............................42
Chapter Eleven Happy Holidays.............................................45
Chapter Twelve School's Out Summer's In...................................54
Chapter Thirteen The Hear-after...........................................59
Chapter Fourteen Old Man's Show Down......................................63
Chapter Fifteen Dawning of Prosperity.....................................66
Chapter Sixteen Movin' On.................................................73
Chapter Seventeen Mother Embraces Feminism................................76
Chapter Eighteen Earning and Learning.....................................78
Chapter Nineteen Line Life................................................84
Chapter Twenty Anonymous Friend...........................................89
Chapter Twenty-One The Mentor.............................................92
Chapter Twenty-Two Orville................................................96
Chapter Twenty-Three Smitten..............................................99
Chapter Twenty-Four Dying On The Line.....................................102
Chapter Twenty-Five Home Owners...........................................109
Chapter Twenty-Six Strike Looms...........................................111
Chapter Twenty-Seven Picket Duty..........................................118
Chapter Twenty-Eight Back to Work.........................................121
Chapter Twenty-Nine Another Job Option....................................125
Chapter Thirty The Future.................................................132
Chapter Thirty-One Hot-rod Spooky.........................................135
Chapter Thirty-Two The Big Wedding........................................139
Chapter Thirty-Three Boom Into Best.......................................144
Chapter Thirty-Four New GMC Team..........................................150
Chapter Thirty-Five Profit Sharing........................................153
Chapter Thirty-Six Cynthia On Stage.......................................160
Chapter Thirty-Seven Private and Confidential.............................167
Chapter Thirty-Eight Strike Vote Called...................................169
Chapter Thirty-Nine The Others............................................174
Chapter Forty Richard.....................................................179
Chapter Forty-One Desperation.............................................187
Chapter Forty-Two Resolution..............................................190
Chapter Forty-Three A New Voice...........................................196
Chapter Forty-Four Always The Professor...................................199
Chapter Forty-Five Victims................................................204
Chapter Forty-Six Helpless................................................210
Chapter Forty-Seven The Question..........................................211

CHAPTER 1

Friends or Enemies


Oshawa, Ontario1944

Growing up in war-time ain't easy. Specially if you're aGerman or a Japanese kid. Even English kids in Londonhave it rough with bombs falling all around and peopledying and stuff ...

Growing up ain't even easy for a Scotch-Irish-Canadian kid likeme, who only has to dodge whacks-to-my-head, and boots-to-my-assas the Old Man yells, "Grow up!"

But really, I'd rather be a Scotch-Irish-Yankee kid. They got alot more good stuff in the USA. We don't have no famous MovieStars like Betty Grable, Humphrey Bogart or James Cagney, a toughlittle-guy, he's one of my favorites. And we don't have Big Bands likeGlenn Miller or Dorsey with singers like Frank Sinatra who makeschicks swoon ...

If you want to hear anything good on the radio in Oshawa, yougot to go to WBEN, Buffalo. Toronto's CFRB or CBL has nothing but"The Happy Gang", and they don't make no one swoon ...

Anyway, in them other countries kids know who their enemiesare. Here it ain't always so easy to figure that out. A lot of enemiesseem to be disguised as friends. Anyone who makes you feel shittycan hardly be your friend. Sometimes I feel surrounded by enemies.You know what I mean?

Specially, it ain't easy growing up when you don't even knowwhat way's up. If up is where my Old Man wants me to go, it sureain't where he is. Whenever I act like him I get whacked, or a bootin the ass. Especially, when he's into the booze he gets me steamedup. You know what I mean?

So I learned pretty young, if I don't want to get whacked, or theboot, don't act like him. Like he says, "Don't do as I do! Do as I say!"


But that ain't always easy so I still get whacked. Like the OldLady does too; mostly for nothing, 'cause she's as good as Old Ladiescome. I wish the Old Man was over-seas, in the Army. But with hisbum leg, they don't want him. They ain't the only ones. Sometimesa family ain't such a great place, with all of its whacking and yackinggoing on. "Do this Dummy! Don't do that Stupid! Wha'd I tell ya?"WHACK!


So, I takes my whacks. But, I gives my whacks too. Whenever Ican, to whoever I can. But not to little kids I ain't no bully. It neverfeels good getting whacks. But sometimes it feels really good givingthem. You know what I mean?


School ain't much better than home. Sometimes it's even worse.Some teachers are really mean and whack you with their pointer oryard stick, for nothing. Like for not knowing the answers to theirdumb questions. I hate looking stupid with everyone laughing.Which don't happen to me too often, but often enough to knowhow it feels. Not good ...


Some poor guys, and even some girls, get a lot of whacks thatdon't do no-one no good, except maybe the teacher. Seems whackingis a sport for some of them. I seen more than one ruler break oversome poor bugger's back. Someday them teachers will get theirs. Butsometimes I laugh too when girls turn red and sometimes they evencry. That's pretty funny. Crying usually happens at certain times ofthe month. Some lady teachers are real bitches at those times too.

But not all teachers are bad. Miss Goode that's really her name,whose making us write our own stories, she's really nice. She sayseveryone has a book inside them. So this is going to be mine. Shesaid she won't read them to the class because she don't want toembarrass no one. She wants them to be true-to-life, and sometimestrue stuff ain't always so nice. I think she might be right about that,for sure. But I hope you won't find my book too bad, because it'll bereal and the way I want to write it. I might do some things that anEnglish teacher won't like, so please don't be too picky. OK? Whoknows maybe I'll just keep on writing, like Shakespeare or ZaneGrey? Yeah, right ...

Anyway, I don't see how School is helping me grow-up to begood, or even smart. Like, they try to make you smart by telling you,"you're stupid!" And they try to make you good by saying you'rebad. That don't make much sense to me.

So, getting out of School is number one. Getting a job is numbertwo. Getting out of the house is number three. And, number four,the real biggy, is getting a car!

When you're sixteen everything good starts to happen, it's likemaybe growing-up is getting out of the frying pan and into thepot—of gold, that is.

But I ain't there yet. I'm fifteen now so I don't have to sufferthis whacking and yacking too much longer. And, it's getting easierbecause I'm getting bigger and the Old Man's getting weaker andstupider, so he don't whack me as much. But he's drinking more,which means he's making life more miserable for the Old Lady.Someday he'll get his.

But anyway, "The Guys" make life better. There are five of us thatstick together through everything. Nasty or nice, it don't matter, wegot each other. So we call ourselves, "Five of a Kind". But that don'tmean we're all the same.

We got our name from poker, sort of. In poker you got four ofa kind that are all the same number; and a five card straight wherethey're all different. But sometimes we bend things a bit out ofstraight, so we're five-of-kind, all different. Makes sense, right?

In the gang we can be ourselves. Swear, smoke, tell dirty jokes,talk about chicks and do stuff that we can't do at home or in school,where someone's always on your back. In The Five, no one makesyou feel shitty. That's how you know when you're with friends. Youalways feel good, well usually.


It's hard to say who of The Five is the smartest. We all haveour moments. But it's easy to see who ain't the smartest. That'sGeorgie-Boy. He's the biggest and strongest. That makes up for alot. He's sometimes funny and easy-going. Until he gets mad andgoes nuts. Like the time he really zonked his old-man, who usedto whack and boot Georgie around all the time. This day Georgiehad enough of his old man's shit and turned on him. If his old-ladyhadn't of whacked him with a pot, or something, Georgie wouldprobably be doing life for murder. But he don't get whacked nomore, at home or at school ...

He's sixteen now, but only in grade seven. He could quit school,but his old-lady won't let him quit until he finishes his education,which for him is getting out of grade eight. You can't help but likeGeorgie. He's a really great guy! When he ain't mad ...


Rick-the-Dick lives up to his name. A living example of: "Bigman little dick. Little man all dick." So Richard, we never call himthat, is, dick by name and nature. That gives him a great sense ofpride, being the guy with the biggest stick. What guy doesn't wanta big-stick? There ain't no such guy! The Dick is also Mister Musicin the gang. That gives him an edge with the Chicks too, that I don'thave. Maybe I got to develop a talent ... or a bigger stick?


Neil-the-Wheel is exactly that, a Wheeler-dealer. On the skinnyside, but all the chicks think he's cute. That's what big blue eyes andblack-curls can do for you. Wheel might be the smartest, but morelikely his fast and slippery tongue gets him his edge. Like my OldMan says, "Bull shit baffles brains."

Wheel has no brothers or sisters, so he could be a Mama's boy,but he don't want to be. When they first moved here his old-ladyused to send him to school dressed like for Sunday school. But Neilwould ditch the tie and scuff himself up to look more like the otherkids. If he hadn't have, guys like Ratsy and Stinky would have. Sothe Wheel beat them to it and made himself some points with themother guys.

Neil's old-man is over-seas, like my big brother, Al. If what wehear from Lorne Green on the news is true, they'll be home soon. Isure hope so.


Joey's the nicest one of the gang, and really is the smartest. Hisold-lady took off with his little sister and ran out on Joey and hisold-man years ago. I can't really blame her. His old-man is strange,even when sober. But he don't whack Joey around. That too is kindof strange. We call Joey, "The Professor," because he wears glassesand reads a lot. Specially when his old-man is gone on a binge fordays. Once, Joey got this really hot book from the library. Even hotterthan the horny paper-backs we get. He says there's lots of sexy stuffthere. Maybe I'll get me a library card?

Everyone calls me Scotty. From my last name Scott. I like thatbetter than being called Mervin or Delbert. My Old Man tells me,"what's bred in the bone, is hard to get out of the meat." Whichmeans, I must be one mean, ugly, fighting, S.O.B. I guess there aretimes when that's true. But mostly I'm really nice—when no one'sbugging me. You know what I mean?


We hang out in a couple of places. At The Store where it's warmand dry inside and where we can check street action outside whenthe weather's good. Big John, the owner, says it's OK to hang-outthere, if we behave. Like, don't crowd the door and buy the oddpack of weeds and bottles of pop. And don't boost nothin. If we dohe says he'll, "bust your fiddle-finger! You don't want to lose thatfinger boys!" He laughs. Whatever Big John says goes.

The Store is a good place to check-out the Chicks too. They'realways coming in for cigarettes, pop, bread, magazines and stuff.

Some really nice looking old-stuff, married to some lucky guywho has it ready, warm and waiting for him when he gets homefrom work. Some of the young stuff ain't that bad neither, most ofit just to look at. Except for Betty-Bang-Bang, but you'd never wantto be seen with her. Her cherry was picked by her brothers when itwas still green. She's kind of fat, pimply-face, straight mousey-hair,and hardly never says nothing. Teachers are always telling her to"speak-up". She'll be lucky to get out of school with-out beingknocked-up.

Loose-Legs-Lucy is another story. She's out of school andworking in War-work like most chicks. A real Rosie, the Riveter.But not like most chicks, Lucy has everything right, in the rightplaces, and she never got knocked-up, yet. The older guys say she'sa real party-chick. We wouldn't mind partying with her neither. Shealways gives us a big smile and a wink, and kids us about when wegrow-up. We can't wait.

Truth be told, we're still riding the hand-car. Except maybe forGeorgie-Boy, his stories sound better than most of ours. Anyway,dreams, wet or dry, are better than nothing. Right?

It used to be Cowboys and Indians, or Cops and Robbers, evenBaseball or Hockey ... Now it's sex, Sex, SEX! It's like that for guysanyways. Geezuz, if girls had sex on their minds like us ... Holysheeeit! Nothing would never get done!!

The Old Man, and even the Old Lady, must have some ideaabout sex being a big thing, because they're always saying stuff like,"... respect women ... you wouldn't want nobody hurting yoursister ... don't take advantage of girls ..." So maybe sex ain't alwaysgood to be thinking about? But how can you help it? Every placeyou look, every place you go there's chicks and pictures of chicks.


You'd have a hard time getting my big brother Al, to not thinkabout sex. Like I said before, he's overseas in the Army now. But heused to always be talking about "ass" as he called it. But, he learnedme a lot about sex and Chicks. Specially that you can't believebitches. That's what he called chicks. They'll say "No," when theyreally mean "Yes." So you have to put pressure on them. That's whena car comes in real handy. You take them out in the country to see ifthey believe in the here-after.

"If they ain't here-after, what I'm here-after, they'll be here-afterI'm gone." Then he'd laugh like that's a big joke. Sometimes Iwondered about Al. But, I sure do hope that he don't get killed andthat he gets home soon.


The other place we hang out is the Old House, around the cornerfrom Big-John's store. It's like our real home; on a dead-end streetgoing to the Tannery. It's not quite hanging over the Oshawa Creekbank, but close to it.

The Creek gets all the Tannery guck and dumps it into LakeOntario. Luckily, the Old-House is upstream, so we don't usually getthe pukey-shit stink that comes when the wind blows wrong. Menwho work there, you can smell them walking down the street. Yuk!That'd be the worse place ever to work.


So, in summer's sun we nude it on old blankets behind the fenceof the House, and we're in our own world. There, no one's yellingand screaming at you like they hate you. No one's on your back fornothing.

Sun-bathing times always give the Dick a chance to display hisclaim to fame, and to raze the rest of us for our short sticks. It's funjust horsing around. Talking about life's problems, like pimples andgrowing whiskers. Learning to dance is hard enough but getting abone-on when you get so close to a girl is a major problem. Whichwas solved by the Dick's older brother who told him, "... all ya gotto do is tense your muscles, like you was lifting a heavy weight, andWHAMO! Da bone goes to jelly!"

He said that trick would come in handy in all kinds of places.Like even in church, if you ever go, and sit beside some sweetsmelling chick. Geez, I'm glad to know that. Because my Peter seemsto be on a spring attached to my eyes and imagination. Looking atpictures of chicks, especially in the undies section of Sears and upPeter pops! That can be very embarrassing at times. You know whatI mean?

Singing the latest Johnny Mercer songs, like "Chatanooga ChooChoo", gives the Dick another time to shine. He's got a really goodvoice. Lots of guys are good at things, but don't have the nerve topush it. They're afraid someone will laugh at them. No one likes to belaughed at, so most guys don't go public. You know what I mean?

Not Rick's problem. He don't even make excuses for his pianolessons. He just eats the attention he gets from playing stuff inassemblies. Bumble-Boogey is one of his piano best. When he singslike Frank Sinatra, the Chicks really lay it on.

Something about music that's hard to explain. But it makes youfeel good when you feel kind of down. Like there ain't no music thatmakes me feel bad. Judy Garland singing "Over The Rainbow", evenif it is kind of sissy-like, says a lot about getting out of life's shit,that sometimes there seems to be a lot of, with people pushing youaround and stuff. It's hard to know who you can trust. It's kind of atrick sorting out friends from enemies. The song, "Don't Fence MeIn" is the way I feel. I can't stand people on my back all the time.Like in school, "Sit-up, shut-up, and face the front!" How much ofthat shit is a guy supposed to take?

Geezuz, I can't wait to grow-up! When I turn on the radiolate at night and listen to those far away stations in Buffalo,Wheeling—wherever that is—and Detroit, or even Toronto, it doessomething way down deep inside. You know what I mean?

When we were little kids perched on the rail-way fence watchingthe freight-trains go by with box-car names like Santa Fe, AtlanticPacific, Southwest and Frontier, we'd dream we were on them goingto wherever they was going. Maybe someday ...


At The House, we got control. When we get into a beef, wework it out. If we didn't want to be there, we wouldn't be. We allfit together like a jigsaw puzzle. Some can piss farther than others,but we're all proud of our long-range-pisser. Especially when there'sa bunch of guys swimming naked in the creek, and we get into apissing contest. And, believe it or not, our Little-Joey wins! Whenone scores, we all score. There's no putting a guy down like teachersand parents do a lot of times.

The House is a good place to get into a little booze too, that wesneak from home. Or buy a bottle of cheap wine from Big-John, whoboot-legs, and bookies. If we puke, or pass out, someone will look afterus. No yacking and whacking, like the Old Man would lay on me.

The Store and the Old-House are two of the bases on our playingfield. Some place to escape to when you're running. Which seemsto be what life is pretty much about, running towards something oraway from something. Getting up to bat, if you're lucky you makea hit. If you're unlucky, you're out. Geezuz, I hate being out. I'mjust living for the day when I hit myself a homer, and just keep onrunning. You know what I mean?


The Old-House ain't exactly all our own. We share it with someCrap-Shooters on Sunday afternoons. Working guys and guys inthe "Forces", shake-rattle-and-roll the bones across an old Indianblanket stretched on a table we set up in a room made bigger byknocking out a wall. We keep it cleaned up and get a couple ofbucks for getting things ready for the shooters.


(Continues...)
Excerpted from GUYS by R. H. Morrison. Copyright © 2013 R. H. Morrison. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.

Publisher
iUniverse
Publication date
2013
Language
English
ISBN 10 
1475978405
ISBN 13 
9781475978407
Binding
Paperback
Number of pages
218