Jerrybaldy
08-05-2010, 08:17 PM
He inhaled on his cigar and looked at the words pop up on the screen. He immediately doubted the use of pop up as a phrase. No going back though. He is going to write a short story. It is going to be called Dundry Hill.
We walked up Dundry Hill. It was about October and around 1978. We lived on the edge of the city and Dundry Hill was out of the city, country territory, lacking light on an October night. Five of us walked up the steep road. Myself, my best friend Andrew, two lesser friends and a newcomer to the group, John.
I had been having a good year. I was 13 and had grown into my looks and become cool, exceeding all expectations. I was dating girls of 14 and even 15 and had tales to tale of actual fumblings. My confidence had exploded. I had under bra action with Jenny brown and everybody wanted to hear of that encounter. She had after all, sprouted a chest a year or two earlier, giving a kudos only a first year boy would appreciate.
I had found a voice and somehow I was becoming a leader among boys. I took up smoking, on the suggestion, or insistence of Susie Bell, who said we should french smoke, which meant she inhaled and then held her mouth to mine and blowed the smoke into my mouth. Funny to think that 30 odd years later I still smoke, for the want of that sharing of fumes back then.
Andrew and me were close. He actually dated Susie's younger sister and we swapped sisters after a few months.
So we walked to the top of Dundry Hill. Stopped at the top overlooking the city and sat down on the verge by the road. John, who had only recently joined our group and was older and with a reputation, stood up.
He walked toward me and lifted me off the verge. His arm swung behind him and punched me hard in the face. He managed to black my eye, bust my nose and split my lip in one punch. That's impressive.
My best friend and my other friends watched on impressed too. It was payback time. Apparently I had become too confident. Too much the ' big I am' . I needed a kicking.
Strangely, we all walked back down together, whilst it was explained to me why I had it coming.
My best friend and I never spoke again. I never led again and have never felt since, like leading was my thing. I try not to follow but neither do I lead.
It was a valuable lesson and I feel I should thank all concerned. I have never since been naive enough to think that a friend always has your best intentions at heart. Another friend of mine took my girlfriends virginity whilst I was still in the 'ILY' stage and she was in the 'ILY too' stage. But thats another story.
But I am not a victim. I am responsible for everything in my life. I chose those friends. I walked up Dundry Hill. I began smoking. I became the person they wanted to hit. As a rule I tend not to give creedence to anybody who blames anybody else for where they are.
He sucked on his cigar again. Smoking is a stupid addiction. 'How did I start that? 'He looks at the clock. Gone 1 a.m and work in the morning.' He cant be assed to check for mistakes.
JB
We walked up Dundry Hill. It was about October and around 1978. We lived on the edge of the city and Dundry Hill was out of the city, country territory, lacking light on an October night. Five of us walked up the steep road. Myself, my best friend Andrew, two lesser friends and a newcomer to the group, John.
I had been having a good year. I was 13 and had grown into my looks and become cool, exceeding all expectations. I was dating girls of 14 and even 15 and had tales to tale of actual fumblings. My confidence had exploded. I had under bra action with Jenny brown and everybody wanted to hear of that encounter. She had after all, sprouted a chest a year or two earlier, giving a kudos only a first year boy would appreciate.
I had found a voice and somehow I was becoming a leader among boys. I took up smoking, on the suggestion, or insistence of Susie Bell, who said we should french smoke, which meant she inhaled and then held her mouth to mine and blowed the smoke into my mouth. Funny to think that 30 odd years later I still smoke, for the want of that sharing of fumes back then.
Andrew and me were close. He actually dated Susie's younger sister and we swapped sisters after a few months.
So we walked to the top of Dundry Hill. Stopped at the top overlooking the city and sat down on the verge by the road. John, who had only recently joined our group and was older and with a reputation, stood up.
He walked toward me and lifted me off the verge. His arm swung behind him and punched me hard in the face. He managed to black my eye, bust my nose and split my lip in one punch. That's impressive.
My best friend and my other friends watched on impressed too. It was payback time. Apparently I had become too confident. Too much the ' big I am' . I needed a kicking.
Strangely, we all walked back down together, whilst it was explained to me why I had it coming.
My best friend and I never spoke again. I never led again and have never felt since, like leading was my thing. I try not to follow but neither do I lead.
It was a valuable lesson and I feel I should thank all concerned. I have never since been naive enough to think that a friend always has your best intentions at heart. Another friend of mine took my girlfriends virginity whilst I was still in the 'ILY' stage and she was in the 'ILY too' stage. But thats another story.
But I am not a victim. I am responsible for everything in my life. I chose those friends. I walked up Dundry Hill. I began smoking. I became the person they wanted to hit. As a rule I tend not to give creedence to anybody who blames anybody else for where they are.
He sucked on his cigar again. Smoking is a stupid addiction. 'How did I start that? 'He looks at the clock. Gone 1 a.m and work in the morning.' He cant be assed to check for mistakes.
JB