Evansville, Wisconsin

January 14, 1944 

Mitchell 2/Boy Talk 1

Mister Menchens, the elderly part time ‘Baylor’ bus driver studied the gray sky and knew… Feeling it in his seventy year old bones, Mister Menchens knew that there would be snow, very possibly a lot of snow due sometime by mid-afternoon and hoped to get the boys of Baylor back to their dormitory before the afternoon snow-fall.

 Putting his old Mackintosh on over his home-knit blue wool sweater— knitted by his long deceased wife...  About his neck, but hanging loosely went the multi-colored scarf also knitted by his ‘Abigail’.

****

The vintage black and yellow school bus pulled up to the Dwight David Eisenhower dormitory at precisely eleven-fifteen— in plenty of time for the noon double feature along with selected ‘shorts. On route to the Evansville Theater located some eighteen miles north of Baylor Military School.

                                      ****
 Rushing aboard, 53 boys scrambled for the window seats.

 Racing, Frank and Mitchell ran to the rear of the bus where there was a pulling, shoving, pushing contest as both boys struggled for the seat next to the window. Stretching the material of Mitchell’s sleeve until it was inches beyond his hand, Frank pulled it through the handhold of the seat across the aisle and, using it as one would a block and tackle, he was able to hold him back long enough to slip beneath him and into the seat, as all the while Mitchell attempted to keep a straight face, but was laughing and couldn’t stop.

 “No fair, you, uh…” trying to think of a swear word, “…schmuck!”

 “ ‘Schmuck’?” Laughing as hard as his friend. “What’s a ‘schmuck’?” Frank asked.

 “Something my uncle always calls my dad whenever they play gin rummy.”

 “ ‘Schmuck’, eh? You keep this up, Lipensky, an’ I’ll know more Jewish words than you. What’s schmuck mean?”

 “Jeez, I d’no. Maybe somethin’ like, uh, ass.”

 “ ‘Madonn’, you’re dumb! Even I know the Jewish word for ass! It’s ‘tuckas’.”

 “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

 “ ‘You forgot’! Lipensky, you’re such a, a…” Also looking for a swear word. Frank smiled. “... Putz‘ ’! I can’t believe it.me, a wop, teachin’ you, a Jew, his own language.”

 Watching the tree-bare, winter scene, the boys were quiet a moment.

 “Mitch,” speaking softly. “You ever wonder ‘bout girls?”

 “ ‘Girls’?” Lookin’ at Frank. “Nah. Why should I? What about ’em?”

 “You ever think…” Hesiting. “You ever wonder ‘bout their, uh, things?”

 “ ‘Things’! What kind’a things you talkin’ ‘bout?”

 “Mitch, don’t be such a dope! You know their ‘things’! The only things that makes girls different from guys is their, uh, ‘chests’ an’ that girls got different kinds’a ‘pissers’ than us. You ever wonder ‘bout ’em? ‘Bout what a girl’s pisser looks like?”

 “No.”

 But he had. One day last summer, standing a few steps beneath her, he was talking to Marlene—From ‘Abe’sDeli’— She was sitting with her knees spread and he was able to see between the gap of her shorts and the inside of her skinny thighs. For some reason she wasn’t wearing panties and, maybe, knowing he was looking, ‘putting on a show’, Marlene had opened her knees even wider and out of curiosity, so he could see better, he’d even stepped a step lower. But all he saw, and what he had thought was: The crack in Marlene’s tushie goes all the way up the front.

 “Do you?” Mitchell asked.”Wonder about girl’s, uh… ‘things’?

 “Yeah!” Frank answered. “Once I saw Cynthia, my older sister, when she didn’t think anyone was home an’ she left the toilet door open.”

 “Yeah?” Delving into the ‘unknown’. Becoming interested. “You saw her pisser then?”

 “Well, she was naked, gettin’ washed at the sink, an’ I saw her tuckas an’ her, uh, ‘chests’ in the mirror, but she didn’t have any more here…” Playfully pinching Mitchell on the chest. “…than you’n’me. Matters of fact, you got more’n’her. Guess girls don’t start growin’ chests till they get older.”

 Having no idea why, but knowing that women’s chests were bigger than men’s chests and aware that he was a bit on the flabby side, a bit miffed over Frankie's crack about him having ‘more’m’her’. However letting it pass. “An’ you didn’t see her here?” pointing to his crotch.

 “Nah. I saw her ‘butt’, but girls’n’guys got the same kind’s’a butts. I waited for her to turn around or step back from the sink so’s I could see her pisser, but then she saw me in the mirror and threw the soap at me, an’ when I ducked she slammed the door shut.”

 A distant, fuzzy thought came to mind. Trying to pull it into focus, Mitchell closed his eyes… Remembering, “I saw a naked lady once.”

 “Yeah!” Frank looked intently at Mitchell. “You saw a ‘naked lady’! How’s come you never told me?”

 “I forgot! An’ besides, this is the first time we ever talked ‘bout naked ladies and girl’s pissers...’Remember’?”

 “Yeah. Okay! So you see her pisser? What’d it look like?”

 “There’s this guy, Dominick Diamond—we call him ‘Dom’—an’ he hated his older brother, Sal, that’s short for…”

 “Yeah,” Frank said impatiently, “ ‘Salvatore’! I’m a Dago, too, ‘remember’? So? So what happened?”

 “Anyway, Sal got married to this real pretty girl that used to baby... uh, watch me when I was little. Her name’s Louise Ann; ‘Lou Ann’ we called her. Anyway, one day Dom comes to me an’ asks ‘if I wanna see somethin’? An’ I say ‘sure’. So Dom takes me between the buildings an’ we looked through the window, an’ Lou Ann an’ Sal are doin’…”

 “Yeah?” ‘Delving into the unknown’. What were they doin’?”

 Screwing his eyes shut, trying to remember. “They… They were… I don’t know what they were doin’,” he said, “but Lou Ann’s layin’ naked on the bed…”

 Gripping Mitchell’s arm. “ ‘All naked’!?”

 “Yeah. They’re both ‘ all naked’. Lou Ann’s layin’ on the bed on her back an’ ol’ Sal’s, uh, I guess kind’a kneelin’ on the floor, at the end of the bed. An’…”

“J’ya see ‘it’ then?” Still holding Mitchell by the arm. “ J’ya see her pisser then?”

 “No.” Shaking Franks hand off. “ I couldn’t, ’cause Sal’s got his head there, between her legs, an’ he’s doin’ somethin’ with his face.”

 “ ‘With his face’? What could he be doin’ with his face? ‘There’?” Giggling nervously. “Lookin’ at her? Smellin’ her? What was…? What was, wha’ch’ma’call’it doin’?”

 “Nothin’! She wasn’t doin’ nothin’…” Concentrating. “Well, yeah, she was doin’ somethin’.” Concentrating, closing his eyes. “She was kind’a, uh, bumpin’ up’n’down… Oh yeah!” His mental picture becoming a bit clearer. “She was smilin’.”

 “ ‘She was smilin’ ’? This, uh, Sal, has his face there doing somethin’ an’ she was smilin’. Not knowing what to make of this, “You saw her chests then?” Frank asked excitedly. “What’d they look like?”

 “Uh…” He tried to remember, but it had been well over two years, a long time for someone his age, and under the cirmstansis. “They were kind’a…” moving his hands in a fluttering motion in front of his chest, “flopped over.”

 “ ‘Flopped over’?”

 “Yeah. An’ they had real big, uh, kind’a like big brown bumps on em’.”

 “ ‘Big brown bumps’? Where?”

 “Here,” touching his fingers to the approximate area of his left nipple.

 “Probably, when girls get older their, uh, bumps get bigger’n a guys, too. So what happened then?”

 “Sal saw Dom’n’me an’ he got real mad, an’ he jumped up an’ ran to the window…”

 “Yeah! J’ya see her pisser then?”

 “No, Sal was in the way.” Another remembrance coming to mind. “I didn’t see ‘hers’, but I sure saw his. ‘Wow’!”

 “ ‘His’? ‘Wow’? Wha’d’ya mean, ‘wow’? ”

 Holding his hands widely apart, “Sal’s, uh, ‘thing’ was this big!” greatly exaggerating the size of Salvatore Diamond’s penis.

 Knowing at least this much, “He must’a had a boner,” Frank said.

 “A ‘boner’?”

 “Jesus, Lipensky, where’ve you been all your life? A boner’s, uh… You ever wake up in the mornin’ an’ gotta pee, an’ your, uh,” pointing to his crotch, “thing’s all big’n’hard?”

 Actually, he’d thought that ‘that’ only happened to him and was surprised to know that it happened to his friend, too. Nodding, “Yeah,” Mitchell said.

 “Well, when that happens it’s called a ‘boner’. Only with big people… uh, guys, I heard ’em talkin’. An’ they get boners when they’re with girls, or talkin’ ’bout girls. Like now, when you was talkin’ ’bout, uh, what’s’er’name, I was gettin’ a boner.”

 This delving too far into the unknown. Looking at Frank’s lap. “Why? You gotta pee?”

 “No.” Becoming somewhat peeved. “ I don’t ‘gotta pee’!”

 Beginning to find this conversation a little humors. “You think maybe Sal had’a pee?”

 “Shit! ‘No, Lipensky’.” Not knowing if he’s serious, “Sal didn’t gotta pee! So what happened?”

 “Anyway, ol’ Sal tried to catch Dom, but Dom was too fast an’ Sal couldn’t catch ’em, and Dom called him a, uh…” Trying to remember his exact words. “Yeah! Dom called Sal a… somethin’ like a ‘muffin driver’, whatever that is, and asked Sal if...uh… if ‘pussy’ tastes good?”.”

 “What the hell’s a ‘muffin driver’? An’ ‘if pussy tastes good’? Where’d a cat come from? And why would he be eating a cat? ” Beginning to giggle, “Eatin’ cat? What the hell was he eatin’ a cat for?”

 Mitchell shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. Never saw no cat there. Anyway, when Sal couldn’t catch his brother, he got hold’a me an’ wanted to kill me.”

 “Yeah? Really?”

 “Yeah! ‘cept Lou Ann jumped off the bed and tried to grab Sal away from me, ‘cause she didn’t want him to kill me”

 “An’ you saw her pisser then!”

 “Nah. She was standin’ behind Sal an’ her, uh, chests were smooshin’ all over him, an’ I saw them real good, but I couldn’t see nothin’ else she had… Or any cat,”

 “So, what happened then?”

 “I thought he was gonna kill me, but Lou Ann yelled at him, so he called me a bunch’a dirty names an’ le’me go… What’s a ‘cock-sucker’?”

 Not knowing how to answer that question, ignoring it. “Jeez, Mitch, were you scared?”

 Scared, he thought. Me? Scared? Nah, I just pooped in my pants. “Nah,” he said, “I was runnin’ real fast and got away.… Hey, Frankie, I wanna ask you somethin’, but don’t get mad at me! Okay?”

 “Yeah, okay. I won’t get mad, I think. What’d’ya wanna know?”

 “Like Sal, when I saw him naked…” He didn’t quite know how to ask the question. “When I see some’a you guys in the shower, uh,” he didn’t want to hurt Frank’s feelings, but it had been on his mind and so long as they were talking about it. “How’s come you got such ugly pissers?”

 “You think ‘I’ got an ugly pisser?” Frank couldn’t believe he’d say this. “You’re the guy with the ugly pisser! Don’t you know Jewish guys always get the ends of their pissers whacked off when they’re babies?” He’d heard some of the older guys on the street talking about this once, too. “My pisser’s just the way God made it!”

 He laughed, saying, “Then God sure made it ugly!” And filed a question away for future asking. If he could find anyone to ask: ‘Was the end of my pisser really whacked off when I was a baby, and why?’

To be continued as:

Evansville, Wisconsin

January 14/15 1944 

Mitchell 3/Boy Talk 2