There was one day, twenty years ago, that sticks in my mind. I vaguely remember it… though, at times, I remember it vividly. Today is one of those days.
It was after school was over that this started, and I stayed late to help little Linda with her poetry homework. Onion Sam was outside, fixing a window. As I was reading a poem to Linda, Sam did too, about halfway through it.
That night, when I was teaching night classes for adults struggling with reading, Sam came by to pick up his spiced peaches. Seeing that I was teaching, he patiently waited in the back of the schoolhouse.
I was helping a Mexican man named Jorge read a sentence off of the blackboard.
"The-duck-swims-on-the-lake," Jorge said.
"Very good," I told him.
He sat down. Then, of course, Trout Walker had to speak up, like always.
"The duck may swim on the lake, but my daddy OWNS the lake," he said sarcastically. Then he sang, "I'm a goofy goober, yeah. You're a goofy goober, yeah. We're all goofy goobers, yeah. Goofy, goofy, goofy, goofy goober, yeah!"
This is where my memory dies. This is all I can tell of that day.
I'm Kissin' Kate Barlow, and this is my story.