An Elephant Nose
Way back when, when I was shorter than I am now, I lived on Huber St. right across from a playground and ball field. The kids on Huber St. attended Dana St. School, which now has been converted into an apartment building. Funny, I used to wonder what it would be like to live in that school, and now some Wilkes-Barre residents actually do live there. Anyway, Dana St. School had an annual play. I remember most of them being performed around Christmas time...one year I was Mrs. Santa Claus. Egads! Did I actually admit that?
I had to make a snoring sound as Mrs. Claus because I fell asleep on stage. I couldn't do it. How silly. I ran around trying to make snoring noises and finally came out with a sound that approximated snoring that my teacher could accept. ( I really preferred the year that I was a dancing reindeer.) My costume was a fancy red dress with a Christmas apron. That's all I can recall at the moment....except for the elephant nose.
There was a girl in my class who didn't have the best life. She didn't talk about it, but we could tell because she had raggedy clothing and messy hair. In the world of coal crackers, this was clearly not acceptable. The terrible thing was she smelled bad, too. I never made fun of her like one or two smartalecks did. Most of us knew that if our parents found out that we did such a thing, we'd be in BIG TROUBLE.
One day I saw L.... at the playground with her mom. It was a pretty warm day, and her mom wore a winter coat and scuffed up slippers. Her nose was always red...no matter what time of day or season, it remained the mom's outstanding feature. L's mom let her play in the old cement wading pool. What's the big deal? It hadn't been cleaned in a while. The water was black, the cement was crumbling. Even then, the corruption of Wilkes-Barre politics had its visual cues. There were all kinds of yucky bugs in that black water, too.
At school, the teacher had been asking the kids to bring in all kinds of props and costumes for the play. L....had been given the part of a toy elephant. She needed a nose to make a convincing elephant. "Doesn't anybody have a gray sock at home? It doesn't have to be your sock...it could be anybody's sock, as long as it's gray," the teacher whined. Every day. For a week. I had gray socks and I felt as if she knew it. She'd look right at me every time she requested a gray sock. No way was I gonna give L.... my gray sock. Didn't anybody else have a gray sock?
At home, I complained to mom that I didn't want to volunteer my gray sock. Mom let it up to me, but wondered why I would worry about such a thing, considering I had loads of socks (mostly white). I sat in my bedroom, considering the gray sock. Finally, I made my decision.
The show went on. The elephant had its nose. After the play, L.... tried to return my sock. I gave her the matching one. Not because she smelled or because Mom made me do it...but I thought she might need a warm pair of gray socks. She didn't want them. Wow. I took them home and stuck them in the back of my sock drawer.
What an unlikely place for an elephant nose.
I had to make a snoring sound as Mrs. Claus because I fell asleep on stage. I couldn't do it. How silly. I ran around trying to make snoring noises and finally came out with a sound that approximated snoring that my teacher could accept. ( I really preferred the year that I was a dancing reindeer.) My costume was a fancy red dress with a Christmas apron. That's all I can recall at the moment....except for the elephant nose.
There was a girl in my class who didn't have the best life. She didn't talk about it, but we could tell because she had raggedy clothing and messy hair. In the world of coal crackers, this was clearly not acceptable. The terrible thing was she smelled bad, too. I never made fun of her like one or two smartalecks did. Most of us knew that if our parents found out that we did such a thing, we'd be in BIG TROUBLE.
One day I saw L.... at the playground with her mom. It was a pretty warm day, and her mom wore a winter coat and scuffed up slippers. Her nose was always red...no matter what time of day or season, it remained the mom's outstanding feature. L's mom let her play in the old cement wading pool. What's the big deal? It hadn't been cleaned in a while. The water was black, the cement was crumbling. Even then, the corruption of Wilkes-Barre politics had its visual cues. There were all kinds of yucky bugs in that black water, too.
At school, the teacher had been asking the kids to bring in all kinds of props and costumes for the play. L....had been given the part of a toy elephant. She needed a nose to make a convincing elephant. "Doesn't anybody have a gray sock at home? It doesn't have to be your sock...it could be anybody's sock, as long as it's gray," the teacher whined. Every day. For a week. I had gray socks and I felt as if she knew it. She'd look right at me every time she requested a gray sock. No way was I gonna give L.... my gray sock. Didn't anybody else have a gray sock?
At home, I complained to mom that I didn't want to volunteer my gray sock. Mom let it up to me, but wondered why I would worry about such a thing, considering I had loads of socks (mostly white). I sat in my bedroom, considering the gray sock. Finally, I made my decision.
The show went on. The elephant had its nose. After the play, L.... tried to return my sock. I gave her the matching one. Not because she smelled or because Mom made me do it...but I thought she might need a warm pair of gray socks. She didn't want them. Wow. I took them home and stuck them in the back of my sock drawer.
What an unlikely place for an elephant nose.
posted by Reading Reader | 8:38 PM
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