Kindness and subtlety are for adults. Kids tell it, or often yell it, the way it is, no holds barred. In looking back on my childhood I, as most of you, can think of things you forgot to say, or said and didn't mean. But, there is no turning back. Regret belongs to senior citizens. As Stephen King puts it: "The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried" (King 301). And that burial usually takes place in one's memory. I would love to identify with Gordon LaChance. After all, he is the story teller, and the one who seems to have come out of his exploits with his friends in the best possible lifestyle. But, the one I can relate to in this story is Teddy. I knew a Teddy. The one who "in baseball you had to have him play the fences. . .You just hoped no one would hit one that far because Teddy would go grimly after it, see it or not" (King 303).
MY Teddy's name was Herschel. He wore the thickest glasses I had ever seen. I gave him a cruel nickname. Dr Peeper. It was a pun on the soft drink we all chugged, Dr Pepper. This was still a time when even kids our age respected (perhaps "respect" is not the right word -- followed or obeyed is better) the unwritten community regulation that separated the races, except in school. But, when it came to sports, the best athlete was always chosen on an intramural team first, regardless of skin color. Herschel was always chosen last. That is, he wasn't CHOSEN as much as he was relegated. Evere
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