School’s Out

June 28th, 1930, and 11 year old Jamie had dreamed of this day for a long time. It was the last day of his junior fourth class. “No more studies, no more books,” he sang to himself. Just an hour or so in school this morning and then summer holidays will be here at last. Then I’ll have lots of time for reading and for more adventures.

He had awakened early to what was to be an exciting day, and he saw that the weather was cooperating with beautiful sunshine. The birds were singing in the ivy vines outside his window and he felt all-over good. He stretched lazily, content to daydream and let his boundless imagination run wild.

But then . . . he had that gnawing feeling again. It was happening more and more lately. Something was trying to tell him that other people did not have the flights of fancy that he experienced; that it was not normal; and that maybe he should exercise more control. But, he argued, it was such fun and it didn’t cause any harm. All he did was to pretend being one of the many heroes that he was constantly meeting in his library books.

Uncle Mick had once complimented him on being such an avid reader and had told Jamie’s father, “He’s just like you; he’s a reader, and maybe a genius. So don’t stifle the boy; let him dream.”

Jamie nodded proudly in agreement with the assessment and resolved to enjoy summer and boyhood in his own way. There’d be time enough, later in life, to be serious.

When he heard his mother’s voice calling up to his sister Mary, his reverie was broken, and Jamie, true to his resolve, said to himself, “There’ll be work for Musketeers today, so I’ve got to get going.”

He jumped out of bed and dressed quickly. Then quietly opening his bedroom door, just an inch or so, he stood spying out at the closed bathroom door, across the hall. He knew that Mary, his younger sister, was in the bathroom now, and that Franny, his older sister was ready to go in, as soon as Mary came back to their bedroom. It was the accepted routine; they followed each other and there was no use arguing about it.

His first adventure of the day was about to begin because, somehow, he needed to get in the bathroom before Franny. Otherwise, he’d have to wait “all day” while Franny showered, shampooed, powdered and painted.

Later, when he met with the guys at the “No-Females-Allowed Fort, he would tell them about how he put one over one the girls. I’ll even expand on the story to impress them. I’ll say, “In our house you need reservations for the bathroom and ‘The Queen Mum’ ruled, a long time ago, that the girls get first turn. It’s not fair but what chance does a poor, orphan boy have against “The Princesses,” especially when all the supportive males are away from the castle hunting for meat for the table and fighting dragons, too.”

Then he shook his head.

“Naw, I can’t tell them that way. . . . They’d never understand.”

Jamie kept watching and as soon as Mary stepped out of the bathroom, he rushed past her. Once inside, he assumed the role of a Musketeer and he turned to face his startled sister through the open door. He swung his imaginary “cloak” over his shoulder in a defiant gesture; doffed his “large imaginary plumed hat” with a sweeping arm motion; and as he bowed, he smiled insolently and slammed the door.

He soon realized that he had underestimated the reaction from the girls because Franny had already joined Mary. They were screaming at him from outside the door and Franny was yelling downstairs. “Mum. Jamie won’t let me have my turn in the bathroom.” He closed his ears to the rapping on the door, and to the continued shouting, and he just sat and pondered as to why girls were so strange. He suspected that his mother sometimes wondered about the strangeness of girls too, but he knew that she would not tolerate the commotion for very long.

As predicted, Mother soon intervened to tell the girls to be quiet and to tell him to hurry and let Franny in.

He had no choice now and there was no use in overdoing it. He got up and gave his hands and face a lick and a promise, as his father would say, “combed” his hair with his fingers and tried to pat down his cowlick. Then, satisfied with what he saw as a D’Artagnan-like image in the mirror, and giving full rein to his imagination, he mounted his beautiful, white horse, “Lightning.” With a slap on it’s rear and a loud, lingering yell, “Char---ge,” he galloped out past the startled Franny before she could get a whack at him.

When he came into the kitchen for breakfast, his mother pinched his arm, and asked him to be a good boy and not tease his sisters again. “Sure Mum, I won’t bother them anymore,” he said, grinning.

Jamie drank some juice, wolfed his cereal, and gulped a glass of milk. He folded a piece of toast, to take with him as he hurried outside to visit his pets. His sisters, entering the kitchen, for breakfast, continued to call him names as he left.

Outside, he looked towards the back of the yard at the wooded ravine which he saw as a forest where the wild beasts lurked. He was now “Tarzan of the Apes,” and he was in control. “Animals love me,” he said to Bam Baloo, the young native bearer, who was crouched beside him as they watched the lions from their vantagepoint. “So put your spear down and stay close to me.” Then Tarzan arose and while pounding his chest with both fists, gave out with his patented, deep-voiced, African yodel that easily deafened the roaring of the lions. Now, without fear, he walked to them where they waited, fidgeting behind the chicken wire. He opened the cage door that swung on the leather strap-hinges, which he had made with Joe. Handing in some cabbage leaves that his mother had left for him, he watched his white mice chew their breakfast and at the same time, he inspected the cage to make sure that his cat, Molly, hadn’t been around.

Inspection over, Jamie reached in and picked up the one called Barney and gently stuffed him into his shirt pocket. At that moment his mother called, from the kitchen, “Jamie, where are you?”

“Here Mum, I’m just leaving.”

“Come here and let me see you first.”

“Aw Mum, I’m O.K. See you for lunch.” Then he rushed to the back of the yard and into the shrubbery at the edge of the bush. Looking back he saw his mother as she reached the screen door. She was wiping her hands on her apron in that familiar way before reaching up to adjust the position of her glasses on her nose. She shook her head and he thought that he heard her say, lovingly, “That Boy!”

He knew that she couldn’t see him or hear him when he waved and said, “Good bye, Mother, your son is off on a perilous safari through the jungle. Remember me in your prayers.”

The short route to school was down through the ravine, known as “the bush,” where the right paths would bring you up the other side, to Kingston Road, directly opposite the school and church. But as Jamie fantasized, the journey could be dangerous, what with the threat of hostile natives and a fast flowing river to cross.

On this day, (in his mind), he easily outran the hostiles. Then, instead of being foiled in attempts to cross the river, as had been the case with so many pioneers and adventurers, he merely backed off about twenty yards and with legs of steel driving like pistons, he ran and made a tremendous leap into the air and easily cleared the roaring torrent.

What a jump! But . . . he wouldn’t be bragging about that at the fort because he knew that the other guys all saw the river as a brook about three feet across at its widest.

At that instant, he had to step aside to allow a row of five, horse drawn, milk wagons to pass. Each horse wore “blinders,” so that as they trudged along, they could only see straight ahead and were never distracted by any activities at the sides. As they went by, it startled him, that each horse seemed to have the face of one of the guys at the fort. But by the time he blinked and tried for another look, the procession was gone. It troubled him that the sight of these horses was not something that he had conjured up in a flight of fancy. What had happened? Had he, in fact, seen anything? Not likely, he assured himself and he continued on, extremely puzzled about the meaning of his “vision.”

Riding Lightning at an easy canter, he soon reached the top of the hill on the other side of the ravine. He dismounted grandly and before walking across to the school, he took Barney out and petted it for reassurance then returned it to his pocket.

During most of his trek through the forest, he had felt the quiet; peaceful, lonely, likeable quiet with only the sounds of birds and insects. But, here in the schoolyard, the noise was unbelievable, what with the shrill yells, loud shouts and gay laughter of all these happy kids. Then with his imagination taking a humorous turn, he said to himself, “What a nice welcome!”

He strode up the front steps of the school and on the landing, he turned to face his followers. He bowed grandly from the waist, then gave them a kingly wave. Graciously accepting their admiration and applause, he was puzzled that so many already knew of his successful Asian trip and how much his research there, would mean for mankind.

Then the schoolbell rang and as though wakened by an alarm clock, he reluctantly became just plain Jamie again and he joined the queues.

When he settled into his seat, his little pet made his presence felt. Jamie caught Joe’s eye and pointed to his pocket and Joe did the same indicating that he had kept his bargain and also brought a pet. Jamie silently spoke the words, “Barney wet me,” to Joe, exaggerating his mouth movements so that Joe could read his lips.

Joe’s laughter characterized everyone’s spirit that morning. There was little or no discipline, but because everyone had been kept in check in this room throughout the school year, there was wariness in really breaking out now. Friends sitting close enough were talking in whispers. At the back of the class Dennis Corcoran and Willy Gorman were teasing Plunger Walsh and at the side near the blackboard, a group of the girls, while still in their own seats, seemed to be huddled around Theresa Laroche, as she held court.

Patricia Farrell, the teacher’s pet was sitting primly in her front row seat watching Sister Francesca who was cleaning out her desk and not paying much attention to her students.

The teacher had really nothing to do today except hand out the report cards and the Exhibition tickets. The school enrollment being small, there were no graduating ceremonies. It was only when Basil Murphy pulled Anita Simone’s pig-tails, and she screamed, that Sister finally called the class to order and led the morning prayers.

“Children, I have your reports. Most of you have done well but unfortunately four of you will have to repeat your year but that will make you better prepared for the entrance class. Now, come up as I call your name in order of class standing.”

“Bernard Kelly, First. Well done Bernard. Joan McCauley, Second. Very close race. Peter Cusak, Third . . . . “

And so it went. Jamie was 11th on the list and Joe and his other buddies all passed. Soon it was over and two of the “failures” were weeping with shame and disappointment and Jamie felt sorry for them.

Patricia was handing out the free entrance tickets for Children’s Day at the Canadian National Exhibition. She was in Jay’s aisle when Barney escaped and walked across the desk towards her. Patricia screamed and jumped up onto a seat and girls at adjacent desks followed her lead. Everyone else started to crowd around to see what was happening. They were shouting and shoving, as the frightened pet, now on the floor, was darting every which way. Soon it seemed that there was a foxhunt in progress, with the pursuing hounds baying and the horses and horsemen riding down their prey.

Most of the girls were still yelling and carrying on, as only frightened girls can, when suddenly in the midst of all the confusion and near chaos, a strange thing happened. It was little Jenny O’Donnell that did it. Little Jenny O’Donnell, that cute, quiet kid with the curly red hair and the freckles. She quite calmly reached down, picked up the frightened mouse and nuzzled him to her cheek while she stroked his back to comfort him.

Jamie could not believe what he was seeing. Jenny was a girl . . .

Sister finally got the room quieted after Jenny, with a shy smile of admiration, gave Barney back to Jamie. Then Sister managed to console the girls who seemed the most upset and with Jenny’s help somehow got them to pet the quivering mouse. She scolded Jamie, and Joe as well, since he too had got in on the act with his pet, but she said the incident had ended well and that it was a good learning experience for everyone. As she dismissed the class, she wished everyone a good summer and then with a laugh hoped that things would not be too dull for them without schoolwork.

Jamie and Joe met Sparky, Scotty, Mike and Norman in the schoolyard and they headed through the bush to the “fort.” As they walked along, single file, Jamie was extremely quiet. Girls are really strange, he thought. Some girls anyway. But I wonder what the guys would say if I proposed Jenny O’Donnell for membership to our club.

Just then, he thought that he heard the neighing of a horse and suddenly he understood the vision about horses that he had had on the way to school. He said to himself, “These friends of mine are like horses. They don’t have daydreams; they don’t play make believe. So as far as membership for Jenny, they’d never agree to it. With their “blinders” on, they can only see straight ahead; they’ve got no imagination. Poor guys.”

“Thank God, I’m abnormal.