Started kindergarten early, four years old. Reasons mixture. Ma kicked in the double income household statistic sweeping the nation in the Seventies. We wuz broke. Ma wanted to work anyway, so pop brought home the bacon, and ma brought home the butter. Convienient and cheap to plunk me in a public school classroom. Seeing as I was reading about a book a week by age four, granted I wasn't devouring Dickens or Dante at that time, but they theorised correctly that I could handle the mental rigors of kindergarten earlier than most. And I was a hyper little freak, drip of sugar ( spanky speed ) and I would bounce off the walls. Figured my energy should be funneled.

We had moved from Oshgosh to St.Louis in the middle of one of the worst blizzards St.Louis had ever seen. White stuff piled over three foot. Bunch of norderners we were, ya you betcha, used to the snow over there, doncha know. Already flipping out the neighbors tunneling through walls of snow. Running spastic through the messily plowed streets.

I definitely went escapist free falling into the winter wonderland. Was licking my wounds, moved away from my puppy dog crush, Samantha. I've mentioned her before, last year July, called "old mind haunt" if you need it. Remember pop was excited about being hired on at Switzer candy. Candy!?! Right on pop! Bring home those Twizzlers! Then a few days later we're loading the Buick, large men were throwing my toys into a box, and I find myself making a desperate sobbing plea not to leave Samantha. Tears running down the back windshield.

I uneasily made friends with the two brothers who lived three doors down from me on my U.City block. Retrospectively, I'm sure I was gaurded about investing in a friendship that I could be torn away from on the whim of my folks. Still as the winter faded, we started hangin more.

Ma got a secretarial jobby for a renovator/carpentry small biz contractor. Downtownish on Hanley road. Sis and I spent a few days there. Handfuls we were. Decided kindergarten was in my immediate future. Halfway through the school year, the U.City public school system made a hole for me.

The day was splotchy grey. You could smell the moist dirt. The ground was slowly absorbing the melting winter's wake. Scuffing my Zips along the soggy concrete walkway to the Oldsmobile station wagon. Ma holding my hand on the right, little sis hoisted hip style on the left. Riding shotgun, metal crunching sound as she closed the car door, kind of made me uneasy. Staring out the window as she tells me all the fun I'm gonna have at school.

Can't puzzle out the reason why I was being dropped off in the middle of the day. Definitely went in the morning everyday after that. But on my first day I had to be late. I hop out the car. Ma points to the door to my class. Mutual waving byes. She powers off down the street. I spin around and size up the building. Seemed massive. Red brick with concrete moldings. Snowflake paper cut-outs taped to the windows. Couldn't see any signs of life moving around in there at all. Carefully made the walk up to the door.

Chains. These metal doubledoors were not opening. I pounded and hollered for what seemed like an hour. No response. Looked around, studied the hood I was surrounded by. Collapsed frustrated on the stoop, and I cried and pouted. I thought I was stuck outside until my ma came to pick me up after school. I cursed that fucking city, St.Louis, that day. Not sure I ever forgave it.

"Hey boy, whatchu doin out here?" Raised my head up from my knees that I was hugging. Man in a dingy periwinkle jumpsuit, weilding a pushbroom. "Son, you gonna catch your death out here." Offered up his sizable caloused hand. Wide smile, appealing dark brown face. Told me his name was Clyde, offered me some cloth to wipe up my face, still not sure if it was a handkerchief or a dust towel. Walked me on over to the main doors. Could have smacked myself and my ma, the main fucking doors. Clyde introduced me to my teacher and fellow classmates.

Youngest, runtiest, and most assuredly the freakiest little gremlin that came into class halfway through the year. Jockeying for my position in strata that was formed months ago. Staring at the holes in the foam ceiling tiles, nap time would not be successful on my first foray into classroom survival.