When the bell at 3:15 p.m. freed us for another 15 hours from the first grade cellblock, I stumbled down the front steps a far different “man” than I had been when I had waited in line with the other classes that morning prior to marching in to our seats.

It had been a relatively happy, carefree life, I dreadfully mused—until then. Now I had broken the law of “unwarranted authority,” had been judged by the Principal and found guilty.  Even before I set out, I knew that I was facing “the last mile” walk home.

First, through the white sandy playground of good old North Shore School.  Then, down Silver Plaza, past McMichaels drug store where a syrupy cherry vanilla fountain coke awaited, if I had a nickel and the appetite to drink it, down Demper Drive and past my great uncle’s house, “so long Uncle Miller, I’ll miss your smile and chuckle,” around the S-curve onto Elwood Avenue, past the little nursery and a bus stop for the 26 North Shore  bus, and right onto Duray Court, past Jeannie Patton’s house, and left onto Vermillion for about a hundred feet to our little house —  to face the fatherly executioner where the ultimate sentence would be carried out.

Unless.

My tortured mind raced!

Unless I…

But that would be another “sin.”

Unless…God, how could such an awful thought ever occur to me.

Unless the damning note…I shivered at the action of temporary salvation that was taking shape in my mind…

Unless the damned note…never made it home to 450 West 58th Street.

There, it was out, at least in my head.  I had thought IT, and probably was muttering it to myself.

My heart raced wildly at just the thought of what my desperate mind was conjuring.

© Tracy D. Connors 2015 All Rights Reserved