First Day of the Decade

This story is set in 1980. The characters are products of their times and may use words that will be considered insensitive and/or offensive to readers of 2023.

 Today, I got three plastic totes full of the things that I’d left behind at my ex-wife’s house. Her divorce attorney, who I’m guessing will be her next husband, had his paralegal bring them to my apartment. One tote was full of books. There were no John Grishams, one of the two things we agreed on. The other was mostly CDs and cassette tapes, with a few VHS tapes and DVDs. There were no George Straits, the second thing we agreed about. The third tote was a collection of various items. My high school diploma, old Sports Illustrateds that I’d saved, a Kentucky Wildcats pennant that I got right after the 1978 championship season, that sort of thing. Best of all, there were several photo albums. I sat on the floor and opened a blue album that Mom had given me right before she passed away. I opened it up and a picture on the first page almost brought tears to my eyes. There stood 12 year old me, bundled up for cold weather with my arm around my 7 year old brother, Joey. Joey was also dressed like an Eskimo. I pulled the picture out of the album and looked at the back. “ Ricky and Joey, New Year’s Day, 1980” was printed on the back in blue ink. I recognized Mom’s handwriting.

I remember like it was yesterday….

#

Joey and me ran through the snow, towards what we all called “the Big Hill”, dragging our plastic sleds behind us. Joey had never been allowed to ride on the Big Hill before, but I had been sledding there many times with my buddies, the Thompson boys. He had pleaded with my parents for permission to tag along with me today. My parents finally caved last night, right before bedtime. I was glad. Joey could be a pest sometimes, but I loved the squirt and I liked to see him being happy.

It was about a half a mile from our house to the Big Hill. When we finally arrived, it was about 10:00. It looked like we were early enough to beat the crowd. As we trudged to the top of the hill, I only saw two kids up there. My heart sank when I recognized the two boys.

Dang it all, the Sneller boys. Ike and Willie! Two, tall, lanky boys. Ike was 14 and Willie was 13. They had both been held back several times in school. I was a sixth grader at twelve. Ike was in fifth grade and Willie in third. Every year, Bert Sneller, their father, would show up on the last day of school and cuss out Mr. Holman, the principal for not promoting his boys to the next grade. They were bullies and always called me ”queer”. Of course, they called everybody that, so it wasn’t a big deal. At school, I only cared about one thing: getting good grades. I really didn’t like school and I wanted to graduate on time. I ignored their insults and they interpreted this as me being a coward. To be honest, I did think they were scary.

As we trudged up the hill, Joey asked me a question. He was always full of questions.

“Hey, Ricky, what do they mean when they say a new decade?”

“A decade is ten years. I was born in the 60’s. Then, came the 70’s. 1979, the year we just had was the last year of that. Now, we are in the 80’s.”

It was the best I could do on short notice.

“Yeah, but what does it mean?”

Like I said, full of questions!

“Well, for starters, next school year, I go to Hickmanville Junior/Senior High School and don’t have to go to rinky dink Boyd Creek Elementary with them two lowlifes at the top of the hill!”

“Aw, I’ll miss you, Ricky. I like you bein’ at the same school with me!”

“ We’ll still ride the bus together, “ I said, trying to cheer him up. We never see each other during the day anyhow.”

We were almost to the top of the hill and I heard Ike Sneller’s nasally voice, yelling down the hill:

“Look at this, Willie, big queer and little queer!”

“Aw, shaddup!” I shouted back.

We finally arrived at the top of the Big Hill. My brother and I were dressed for cold weather; heavy coats, wool caps and mittens, hiking boots, sweatshirts, jeans, and thermal underwear underneath. The Snellers were wearing baseball caps, flannel shirts, jeans that looked worn out, and tennis shoes. My mother would have never allowed us outside of the house without our heavy coats. Come to think of it, this was the first time that I’d ever seen either of them wearing long sleeves. In contrast to our plastic sleds, they had the wooden kind with rusted metal runners.

Ike pointed at us and laughed. Willie looked confused, like he didn’t know what was funny, but he laughed, regardless.

“They’re wearin’ mittens! I thought only little girls wore mittens!”

This made me hot! Our grandma had knitted the mittens for us as Christmas gifts!

“Ike, you need to shut yer big mouth,” I said. Nobody wants to hear the stupid things you say or see yer yellow teeth, or smell your nasty breath!”

Joey laughed out loud at my comeback. Willie held up a fist.

“You better quit laughin’, queer!” Willie hollered. My brother stepped behind me. Joey always scared easily when he was a kid.

“Pick on somebody your own size,” I told Willie, “if you can find anybody that size!”

“I got two hands, I’ll take on both of ya!” Willie said. With both fist clinched, he took a step toward Joey and me. But only one step.

“ You know this queer ain’t gonna fight,” Ike said. “Since you’re scared of a fight, how ‘bout a sled race to the bottom of the hill? You got the guts for that?”

I nodded. I knew that I had an advantage. I had applied Crisco to the bottom of my sled late last night before I had gone to bed. My Uncle Oscar had taught me that was the secret to a fast sled.

“It will fly down that hill!” he had told me.

Ike and I both climbed on to our sleds. Ike sat near the back of his sled and held onto a length of rope attached to the front of the sled. I laid on my belly on my sled.

I heard Joey saying, “Awright! Ready! Set Go!”

We both started down the hill. I could see Ike’s sled running side by side with mine. The further we went, the more momentum we seemed to gain. I looked over where Ike had been a second earlier and he wasn’t there! I had taken the lead! The Crisco was doing the trick and I was zooming down the hill. In my peripheral vision, I saw Joey running down the hill behind us, pumping his fist and yelling. “You’re winning, Ricky!” he shouted. I finally reached the bottom and stopped myself by rolling out of the sled, onto the snow! I stood up and saw Ike, several feet behind me and pulling hard on the rope. He skidded to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Willie came trudging down the hill, shaking his head and looking disgusted.

Joey grabbed my arm and lifted it like I was a prizefighter.

“The Winner!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Ike got up and walked across the snow. When he got within a few feet of me, he spat. The spittle hit my coat and ran down my front. I took off my mittens and stuck them in a coat pocket. It was time to make my stand!

“I spit on ya, queer” Ike screamed at me. “Are you just gonna take it?”

“You suck, Ike Sneller!” Joey said. There were tears in his eyes. I’d nevr heard my little brother talk like that.

“I ain’t takin’ crap off you, boy!” I said, almost in a whisper.

Ike ran at me. I side stepped and did something that the announcer on the wrestling show called a drop toehold. Basically, I used my legs to trip Ike and he landed face first in the snow. I climbed on his back and rolled him over and sat on his belly. His eyes were wide. For once, he looked scared. He reached and used both of his hands to grab my right wrist. I guess the fool had never noticed I was left handed. I brought that left hand smashing down on his face time and time again. After several seconds of that, his nose, mouth, and right eye were bloody.

That day, I realized that the sight of blood makes me ill. I got off of him. Walked a few feet away and threw up in the snow. Then, I felt Joey’s hand patting me on the back.

“You okay, Ricky?” he asked. Poor kid sounded scared.

I spit in the snow a few times, trying to make sure that thee was no vomit left in my mouth. Then I said, “Yeah, I’m okay, bud!”

I turned around. With my luck, I’d have to fight, Willie, too.

No, not today. Willie stood over his brother, tears running down his face. It was the first time that I had ever seen any signs of humanity from anybody named Sneller. In the years that followed, I wouldn’t see many more.

Willie helped Ike to his feet. They just stared at Joey and me.

“We don’t want no more trouble from you Sneller boys,” I said. “You just stay away from me and my brother, at school and everywhere else! You understand?”

“Yeah,” Ike said. Then, he and Willie turned and walked away.

Believe it or not, they kept their distance from us for the rest of their lives.

“Yeah,” Joey yelled. “You illiterate inbreds stay away from us, got it?”

The Snellers kept walking. I was just a little bit shocked. I’d never heard Joey insult anybody before that day.

“What do you know about illiterate inbreds anyhow?” I asked as I mussed his hair.

“I heard Uncle Oscar say that once,” he said. Then he giggled.

“Don’t let our Mom hear ya say that,” I warned him, “she’s liable to tell her bother to stay away from us!”

“Do you think the rest of the decade will be like the first day?”

“Probably won’t be nearly as exciting,” I told him.

After that, we ascended the hill and spent the next few hours sledding.

We had no way of knowing that both Snellers and my brother would be gone by the end of the decade. The Snellers did stay away, but somehow, we became friendly enough that I was a pall bearer at both of their funerals. And I gave the eulogy at Joey’s service.

I can answer Joey’s question now. The rest of the decade was like the first day. Turbulent and filled with unnecessary trouble.

And somehow, I endured.