Day 22. Avoiding the bus.

I was never really sure why Daryl beat me up on the way home from school. Some would say it was my smart mouth, I always needed to have the last word. Or it could have been that I was an easy target. Even though he knew that Gary, Karen, Ginny or Judy would have come to my rescue the beatings continued. 

Judy had helped once and ended up with a black eye from Daryl's brother. 

Daryl was my 'Scott Farkus', yellow eyes and green teeth. Yup, just about right. I did what I could to avoid him, but he would always find me. One time he had a group of boys gang up on me, I was in the middle of the group, curled up in a ball when a hand came dangerously close to my mouth. 

*CHOMP*

I bit it - as hard as I could. "OW!" the owner of the arm yelled. "Carole, I'm trying to help you!" - the hand belonged to John - a friend and fellow team mate on the kickball team. 

The bite did it's job though, the other kids scattered for fear of being bit. After that they all barked at me and called me a dog. I really didn't care as long as the kicking stopped.

Except for Daryl, walking to school never phased me. Everyone walked to school unless you were ill or had a project due. We would join up on the playground and wait for the bell to ring, letting us know it was time to enter the building.

When we moved to Oak Creek I figured it was a chance for a fresh start. No one knew me here. I wouldn't have to worry about getting picked on. Or so I thought.

The first day of school I was wearing a royal blue polyester pant suit my mom had bought me. It was my favorite color and I was feeling pretty good about myself. 

It was the day that I found out that polyester wasn't cool. The 'cool kids' in the class decided to welcome me by putting glue on my chair, hoping I would sit in it. Amateur's! Did they not realize that I had older brothers who could do far worse than that?

At recess they tried to knock me down to give me a face washing. But my legs were strong and I was good at avoiding ice from my years of walking to school. I swear at one point every kid in my class was jumping on my back trying to get me to fall. 

So much for the playground supervisor. 

I never fell - they weren't able to complete their plan. I now had a new nick-name. Weeble. (Weebles wobble but they don't fall down). 

The end of the day came and I was told to get on a school bus. My parents had dropped me and Laurie off at school. We had never seen our new house so we had no idea where to go. We trusted that the teachers were putting us on the right bus. I climbed on and sat near the back of the bus, Laurie was behind me and had stopped at a seat in the front. 

As I said - we had never had a school bus before so I had no idea of the rules. Older kids sat in the back of the bus. As a punishment I had to put up with Bill and Mike - two kids I would find out, lived in the same subdivision - pounding on my head with their school books all the way home. These would be my new daily bullies.

So much for the bus driver.

Laurie and I got off the bus too early and wandered around until we found our house - mostly by accident and a little by observation, my parents had shown us a picture of the house being built. It was the newest home on the block and did not have any lawn yet. 

"How was your day?" came the question as we walked in the house. "Fine (I lied)".  I knew from the Daryl experience that no one was going to care if I got beat up. We were shown our new room - it was pink! I hated pink. I decided to hang out in the family room and watch TV until it was time for bed. 

The other brothers and sisters came home and were shown their new rooms. Boxes were still everywhere and they got to work putting things away.

This was my new routine. Go to school, get harassed and beat up on the playground, ride the bus home, eat supper, put stuff away, go to bed and repeat the next day.

I decided I could avoid being a human snow ball at lunch by asking to stay in and going to the library. This greatly limited my socializing time with the new kids at school, but I really didn't feel like I fit in anyway and found it better to just hide in by the books. About a month of this went on until the principal finally asked me why I wasn't going outside for recess or lunch. I broke down and told him about the problems on the playground.

He was sympathetic and decided to speak to the class that day. Um - probably not a good idea. I was more a target than ever, I dreaded going on that bus. I hated it here, I had no recourse. I was going to leave and go back to Cudahy.

I climbed on my bike and headed back 'home'. I was just passing the legion when I realized I had no idea how to get back to Cudahy and no place to stay when I got there. I turned around and slowly pedaled back. This was before the bike path was in so I had to ride in the street. 

I had to be careful, one small error and I would end up in the ditch. Don't fall in the ditch, don't fall in the ditch, don't fall in the d...................i.....................t..................c..................h.  

I fell in the ditch, I laid there for a couple of minutes, taking inventory - neck - not broken. Legs, still work. Arms, yup - they were ok too. Just a few scrapes.

"Need help?" I looked up to see a girl from my class. Her name was Cheryl. Her backyard was closer to the road than mine and she had seen me fall.  She helped me out of the ditch and I pushed my bike through the field to her backyard. She had one of those porch swings in the back and we sat and talked while I continued to take care of my scrapes.  I found out that she had just moved to the subdivision at the beginning of the school year so she understood the plight of the 'new kid'.  

Cheryl introduced me to Patty. She lived across Ryan road, but more importantly, her back yard butted up to the school playground. It had been part of an apple orchard that at one point filled much of the city. I found out that Cheryl didn't take the bus, and instead, walked with Patty to her home to hangout until it was time for supper. 

I was invited into their group, and although there were only three of us, the rules of friendship were never an issue. 

Cheryl lived a few doors down from my house and we became fast friends. It was good to know that I had choices. Although I had a bus available to me, I never used it after meeting Patty and Cheryl, opting to walk across the busy road and through Patty's backyard for the remainder of the school year.

Patty's father was the chief of police so people didn't really mess with her. She had an inground pool and a basement that was decorated with Japanese décor. I had never seen anything like it. We spent many hours down there reading Tiger Beat magazine and talking about the most current thing that Mrs. Register, our teacher, said in class. We practiced songs that the music teacher had assigned. We did homework, but most importantly we became close friends.

During the summer we made sure Patty had plenty of company in her pool - and although I am prone to sunburns, I spent the majority of that first summer laying on her deck.

The next year we would go to Middle School, which required walking across the creek if you didn't want to take the bus, and aside from the occasional soaker from slipping off the log bridge we had built, got us home faster than the bus.

It wasn't until I was in High School that I occasionally took the bus to school, opting instead to ride my bike or walk. 

However, to set the record straight I do have some great memories of my school bus days. Swim meets were great memories of singing school songs and chanting spirit cheers. We would also use the school bus for choir performances and the occasional science field trip.