Life on Pigeon Creek

by Barnes, Kenneth Edward

• ISBN13: 9781463409012
• ISBN10: 146340901X
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2011-09-27
• Publisher: Author Solutions

Excerpts

The Great Easter Egg Hunt It was the spring of 1961, and we had just lined up side by side facing the area where the eggs were hidden. I suppose hidden was not the right words for it, because the eggs could easily be seen, and they were everywhere. They were in bushes, beside clumps of grass, and many were lying in the open on the bare ground. The area for this particular "hunt" was the southwest corner of the Yankeetown Elementary Schoolyard. Mrs. Lerch stood beside the small class of eighteen. It was the presence of this small silver-haired lady, which kept a lid on the mayhem that was soon to erupt. By the time I was in the fourth grade, I felt that I was too old for such things as Easter egg hunts. It didn't look very dignified. Besides, there wasn't any challenge involved. It wasn't like frog hunting, where the frogs could jump in the water and escape. The eggs just sat there, and they were so brightly colored that you couldn't miss them. Looking for Easter eggs didn't hold a candle to mushroom hunting. Now, there was a sport I liked. Sneaking through the spring woods where the vivid green leaves were unfolding from every branch, and mayapples, ferns, and wildflowers were covering the ground. Where you had to search for the almost invisible quarry that hid in and under the thick carpet of leaves. And while you were stalking one of the rare and elusive mushrooms, you sometimes would encounter other interesting creatures, such as a box turtle or snake, which added excitement to the hunt. I hardly think you could compare the two. "On your mark! Get set!" Mrs. Lerch said, as I began looking down the line of kids who were pawing the ground in anticipation of gathering the lifeless eggs that lay before them. Kenny and Johnny were in position as they leaned into the wind so they could get off to a faster start and to cut down on wind resistance and drag to gain greater speed. Jimmy was leaning forward on his crutches, as the others were digging in, getting ready to lunge after the nearest egg. Terry, the one who looked like a miniature George Burns, stood erect, if you could call his posture erect. Mrs. Lerch then taking one step back, adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses and spoke the magic word, "GO!" What ensued next I couldn't believe. The children were dashing here and there, to and fro, over here, then over there, like an old hen's chicks looking for bugs. Gorden, Billy, Johnny, and Kenny were racing one another among growls, snarls, and threatening looks, which were coming from Gene, an unusually shy and timid kid. The usually prim and proper girls were grubbing through the bushes and weeds, screaming and yelling, as they clutched the eggs tightly in their claw-like hands. Even Jimmy was going at top speed on his crutches, using them to shield the eggs and to threaten any rival that got too close. "Such a display of childish behavior," I thought. I had never seen Mary, Lillian, Linda, Marylyn, Krystal, Wanda, Norma and Ann act this way. The boys yes, but not the girls. I stood for a moment watching the disgraceful sight. Then after several seconds had passed and the eggs were disappearing like June bugs in a chicken pen, I decided that since I had an empty basket in my hand, I might as well put a few eggs in it just for appearance sake. Casually I walked over to where one was lying, paused for a second thinking how silly it was to be participating in this unsporting event and reached down to pick up the egg. Suddenly, some wild kid dashed in, and with hideous laughter, snatched the egg from under my fingertips and fled. Slowly raising up, I then spotted another egg and strolled over to it, with manners and dignity like a human being. But, when I reached the spot, another egg-crazed kid, who was running stooped over, grabbed it and ran for another. After a half dozen or so futile attempts of egg acquisition, I gave up. All the eggs were gone by now anyway, except for one unfortunate specimen. It had been hidden under a rock (A rock that had been stepped on several times by the mad egg hunters while they were scampering and scurrying about searching for others of its kind). This last egg had been discovered under the trampled rock, but it had been rejected and cast aside. It lay alone, mashed, broken, and abandoned on the cold ground. It was a very sorry looking egg, lying there with its shell broken and its yellow insides protruding through its battered form. The excitement of the hunt had turned the usually well-mannered and dignified class into an ugly mob! I never would have believed it! Looking around, I saw several kids with their baskets full of eggs and still looking for more. Some kids had just a few and a look of disappointment as their eyes searched the empty terrain. Silently I stood observing the class, while holding the empty basket in my hand. Finally, one kid, who had only a couple of eggs, reluctantly walked over to where the crushed and mangled egg laid in silence, stood over it, then, reaching down, took it in his hands and gently placed it in his basket. I didn't get any eggs that day, but the hunt taught me a lesson in human nature, of just how ugly a class can become when it is ruled by selfish greed! After the "hunt" was over, I quietly followed the vociferous, jubilant mob, back into the classroom and took my seat. It was now time to award the kid who "found" the most eggs. "Ok, class," instructed Mrs. Lerch. "I'll call your name and you tell me how many eggs you found." Everyone was busy counting their eggs for the tenth time, just to make sure they hadn't over looked one. "Johnny," Mrs. Lerch continued, "how may did you find?" "Thirteen," he beamed. I think it was he, who snatched the egg from under my fingertips, but I'm not sure, all I saw was a blur as he swept pass me. "Terry?" she again asked. "Three," he answered with his "wismatic" smile. "Three?" I thought. "He shouldn't have counted that last egg. It was hardly recognizable after all it had been through." But I guess if he started each morning with a shot of whiskey and a cigar, he wouldn't be too choosy about his egg collection. Mrs. Lerch continued down the row. "How many did you find Jimmy?" "Nine," he replied. "Six," said the next child. "Eleven," answered another. Then it was my turn. "Kenneth, how many eggs did you find?" I sat there for a moment, not wishing to answer, because I knew what the reaction of the class would be. "None," I said, and immediately everyone turned in their seats and looked at me. They had a puzzled look, as if to say, "What happened? Why didn't you find any? What was wrong with you? What kind of excuse do you have?" I didn't say anything but was thinking, "If you all hadn't put on a display of such appalling behavior and acted like animals, I would have some." I was also too shy to explain that I felt I was too old for such things as Easter egg hunts. I didn't think they would understand. "You didn't find any?" Mrs. Lerch asked, in an unbelieving voice. "No," I replied. But all was not lost. I received a prize for finding the least number of eggs. I suppose Mrs. Lerch felt sorry that I was so unfortunate. And Ann shared some of her eggs and candy with me, which made me very happy.