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The High heels
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Chapter Three
Noon. Overslept, Frankie opens his eyes, stretches himself, then gets up. He did set his alarms, and buried it under his pillow, from half past six on every an hour his doraAmon vibrated:"Get up, get up, you lazy bug! Get up, get up, you lazy bug!" However, he set this since he knew he would oversleep, and as long as he knows he will oversleep, nothing can stop. The wind blew wilder and wilder yesterday night, with windows and door shut Frankie fell into a quick sleep, in which he dreamed about hometown's auroras and polar bears.
But now he is bathed in the sunshine of The University of New Hampshire(UNH), a liberal arts college in America. On one of its finest lawns he gets seated. Mr Creek gave him ten days to revise the paper, so he dosen't have to be pushy. He watches the pedestrians, strange faces among whom a boy gives his heart a ripple--looks six or seven, streneously pulling the cap off a pop can, he makes it, but unfortunately the cola spring up, embarrasses him with the unprepared eruption which wets those surrounding unaware. The innocent and frightened face indicates he is not intented to make such a prank so old-fashioned. Too frightened to squeeze a word from his shivering teeth, the boy lies his head down, his eyes saying sorry. Then a woman comes, and after some explanations and apologizes to those irritated eyes, and some essential scoldings to the boy, the embarrassment is finally overcome. To tell from the age, she must be his mother.
"What a coward!" Frankie smiles at the boy. But Frankie remembers he's done the same shitty thing when he was a boy, with his family on his tour to the New York City, and he made the same "cowardly" reaction as this boy. Actually from that boy, from that cola-can, he gets some fragmentary image of his childhood. In the graduation season, the UNH is a place where your memories can be picked up, even from a familiar cloud, a cola-can.
"If I'm never informed about my birth, then I'll not know how old I am. And I will not feel the sense of getting older--that is to say, in another fifity years or so I'm about to die. If I was born on a isolated island, then I won't worry I am going to die. That's lucky. But who knows? Maybe it is disastrous. Will I really not suspect it? Aren't we born with a sense of death? If no, will I consistently as before and as now, dear and treasure my life?"
Noon. Overslept, Frankie opens his eyes, stretches himself, then gets up. He did set his alarms, and buried it under his pillow, from half past six on every an hour his doraAmon vibrated:"Get up, get up, you lazy bug! Get up, get up, you lazy bug!" However, he set this since he knew he would oversleep, and as long as he knows he will oversleep, nothing can stop. The wind blew wilder and wilder yesterday night, with windows and door shut Frankie fell into a quick sleep, in which he dreamed about hometown's auroras and polar bears.
But now he is bathed in the sunshine of The University of New Hampshire(UNH), a liberal arts college in America. On one of its finest lawns he gets seated. Mr Creek gave him ten days to revise the paper, so he dosen't have to be pushy. He watches the pedestrians, strange faces among whom a boy gives his heart a ripple--looks six or seven, streneously pulling the cap off a pop can, he makes it, but unfortunately the cola spring up, embarrasses him with the unprepared eruption which wets those surrounding unaware. The innocent and frightened face indicates he is not intented to make such a prank so old-fashioned. Too frightened to squeeze a word from his shivering teeth, the boy lies his head down, his eyes saying sorry. Then a woman comes, and after some explanations and apologizes to those irritated eyes, and some essential scoldings to the boy, the embarrassment is finally overcome. To tell from the age, she must be his mother.
"What a coward!" Frankie smiles at the boy. But Frankie remembers he's done the same shitty thing when he was a boy, with his family on his tour to the New York City, and he made the same "cowardly" reaction as this boy. Actually from that boy, from that cola-can, he gets some fragmentary image of his childhood. In the graduation season, the UNH is a place where your memories can be picked up, even from a familiar cloud, a cola-can.
"If I'm never informed about my birth, then I'll not know how old I am. And I will not feel the sense of getting older--that is to say, in another fifity years or so I'm about to die. If I was born on a isolated island, then I won't worry I am going to die. That's lucky. But who knows? Maybe it is disastrous. Will I really not suspect it? Aren't we born with a sense of death? If no, will I consistently as before and as now, dear and treasure my life?"
The High heels
Frankie was born a baby with an oversized pinkish head. He can never know that, but unfortunately his parents showed him those pictures of their little angel. Especially when he grew up, mother would like to tell him the details about the day, "that was a cold snowy day," mother always said, "the time I held you from the infant room, oh, you lovely rosy head! The snow outside miraclously seemed to stop blowing." Ma appreciated that word "miraclously", so each time when pronouncing it with her lips like a nightingale she would look into Frankie's eyes with her own tendernesses, cares, passions and proudnesses. The birthday is to someone what the suffering day to his mother, that's definitely a miracle.
Then Frankie grew up, a naughty child. The conveniences for someone being a child is he can do childish things realising not he is behaving childish until seized. That is their privilege to run and cry aimlessly, a privilege to spread the baseball cards and toy frogs all over the floor, a privilege to show his naked body to his parents shamelessly, a privilege to make a "coffee" by the self-developed recipes(such as sands and soil of grandma's yard), a privilege to imagine the speckled face of the toilets' wall a skeleton's avatar, a privilege to swing about his wood guns or swords seriously like a real soldier.It was an age of innocences and pamperings, an age of recklessnesses and delicacies, an age of sensitivities and hopes, an age of bewilderments, explorations and harmless collisions. It was the seasons in the sun.
Frankie can still remember the "Effect", as he calls it, the time he tried on Ma's high heels on the ice. The natural skiing-ground such as the Hudson Bay is where his fellows prefer to stay during the noons, skating. But Frankie had to sleep, as required by his parents. Simply couldn't fall soundly asleep as father and mother, every time he closed his eyes, pretended to be sleeping, while his ideas popping in his head. Then once, he was never more "awake" before, peering at the red high-heelers tightly and glaringly to the entrance put as usual. He immediately in bed came up with an fresh idea --"try on Ma's high heels, rescue from the bed and then join them on the ice must be of great fun","Yes, they will be driven crazy and roaring with laughters", he rehearsed the scenes in his mind over and over, wearinng a wretched but soundless smile, He nearly couldn't helping laughing at the imaginary excitement and satisfaction! "I've never tried them on before, let me do it!" he taught and encouraged himself. Then he carried out his plan. It was a plan of great bravery, like what the spy did. But he was talented with it. He slipped with no fractions from the bed, then cautiously managed every step to the entrance as lightly as walking on the air. He tried on his shoes and took Ma's high heels in his pockets and leaved the door closed without a trace. "Perfect, Mission One complete!"
Then he headed for the Hudson Bay. Arrived there, he changed on his Ma's high heels. His feet fitted the size, but he was complaining about the weird design that with the heel dramatically lifted forced his feet to stand on his toes. He stumbled painstakingly to reach his fellows, and they were crazy, as Frankie had imagined, about "his" high heels. The time they viewed Frankie they bursted into laughters. They liked Frankie, especially when Frankie came up with another prank.
That was a pair of common high heels for a mid-class woman like Frankie's mother. But at that time, it was the focus over the ice. "Hey, Frankie, can I try them on?" other boys pleaded him for a try-on, but he refused them all. He walked like a penguin, a proud penguin. But the moment he thought to himself "Mission Two complete", he got a slipped over. The famous local bully, nicknamed the Shark, who was much taller than Frankie, pushed him from the back. It was easier to slip than on skatingshoes, no mention to sustain the balance after such a meaningful push. Then the bullies came over, intently, they barbarianly pulled the high heels from Frankie's feet, Frankie's fellows freezing there, startled.
"Hey, pass them over here!" the bully head Shark demanded, then went on the ice a rugby game. The rugby, namely Ma's high heels, the players, the bullies. Frankie got to his feet, together with his fellows tried to get the shoes back, but it was a Mission Impossible. The bullies were much stronger and taller, and maybe some well-trained rugby throwers and catchers. "Stop! Stop!Give Them Back To Me!" cried Frankie at the top of his voice. No response, but some playful, impatient eyesights and words in a teasing tone such as "Hey, you freak, come over and get it?" Obviously it made no difference to this bunch of bullies however hard Frankie had tried. The atmosphere went crazier and crazier, out of control, the happier these bullies were enjoying themselves with the rugby game, the more suffering Frankie was. He was irritated, but he could do nothing but wait there for "salvation". He got a corner to isolate and hide, tasting his tears lonely. He felt guilty. Under the bright sky, the surface of the ice shone colder to his eyes.
Then arrived his mother, woke up only to find her son missing with her high heels, so worried and anxious, she and Pa searched the whole town before they came to realise the Hudson Bay may be the place. The time they reached there, Frankie was burying his head in a corner under a fir, speechless, with a scar on his left leg bleeding, produced during the struggle for the high heels. The game was on, but as soon as they caught the sight of Frankie's parents, Shark's group left the shoes and fled instaneously. Frankie's Ma saw her high heels being chased after by the bullies', she looked at Frankie's bare feet and his shoes put aside, immediately this clever woman knew generally what had happened.
Frankie didn't pronouce a word, even though he noticed his parents' figures. The moment the bully fled, Frankie went wild, like a unchained hungry tiger, and rocketed off his seat before his parents could reach him. Barefoot though, bleeding though, he eagerly, streneously and determindly sought the high heels abandoned on the ice. He forgot all his pains, in his eyes burnt the flame of will, the will to locate Ma's high heels and return them back, return them back to mother, and return them back to mother well.
His parents stood there, shocked, all they could see is their son recklessly rushing to that "little red dot" lying to the horizon. He stumbled over about ten metres before it. Then he crawled, he just crawed there. Got it! He smiled, wiped it clean, held that high heel tightly to his face.
He had been struggling to find the other one, but failed in vain. It was later informed by one of his fellows that the other was droped through a hole in the ice, into the icy water beneath. Home, Frankie held out the only high heel to mom, "I'm sorry, mom. I'm terribly sorry." Pa didn't say a thing to Frankie as he usually scolded him. Ma held Frankie into her arms, kissed him on his hair, "OK, let bygones be bygones. But don't let us be worried about you again." She was such a mother, in whose magical arms Frankie could soon regain his peace in his heart.
Frankie was born a baby with an oversized pinkish head. He can never know that, but unfortunately his parents showed him those pictures of their little angel. Especially when he grew up, mother would like to tell him the details about the day, "that was a cold snowy day," mother always said, "the time I held you from the infant room, oh, you lovely rosy head! The snow outside miraclously seemed to stop blowing." Ma appreciated that word "miraclously", so each time when pronouncing it with her lips like a nightingale she would look into Frankie's eyes with her own tendernesses, cares, passions and proudnesses. The birthday is to someone what the suffering day to his mother, that's definitely a miracle.
Then Frankie grew up, a naughty child. The conveniences for someone being a child is he can do childish things realising not he is behaving childish until seized. That is their privilege to run and cry aimlessly, a privilege to spread the baseball cards and toy frogs all over the floor, a privilege to show his naked body to his parents shamelessly, a privilege to make a "coffee" by the self-developed recipes(such as sands and soil of grandma's yard), a privilege to imagine the speckled face of the toilets' wall a skeleton's avatar, a privilege to swing about his wood guns or swords seriously like a real soldier.It was an age of innocences and pamperings, an age of recklessnesses and delicacies, an age of sensitivities and hopes, an age of bewilderments, explorations and harmless collisions. It was the seasons in the sun.
Frankie can still remember the "Effect", as he calls it, the time he tried on Ma's high heels on the ice. The natural skiing-ground such as the Hudson Bay is where his fellows prefer to stay during the noons, skating. But Frankie had to sleep, as required by his parents. Simply couldn't fall soundly asleep as father and mother, every time he closed his eyes, pretended to be sleeping, while his ideas popping in his head. Then once, he was never more "awake" before, peering at the red high-heelers tightly and glaringly to the entrance put as usual. He immediately in bed came up with an fresh idea --"try on Ma's high heels, rescue from the bed and then join them on the ice must be of great fun","Yes, they will be driven crazy and roaring with laughters", he rehearsed the scenes in his mind over and over, wearinng a wretched but soundless smile, He nearly couldn't helping laughing at the imaginary excitement and satisfaction! "I've never tried them on before, let me do it!" he taught and encouraged himself. Then he carried out his plan. It was a plan of great bravery, like what the spy did. But he was talented with it. He slipped with no fractions from the bed, then cautiously managed every step to the entrance as lightly as walking on the air. He tried on his shoes and took Ma's high heels in his pockets and leaved the door closed without a trace. "Perfect, Mission One complete!"
Then he headed for the Hudson Bay. Arrived there, he changed on his Ma's high heels. His feet fitted the size, but he was complaining about the weird design that with the heel dramatically lifted forced his feet to stand on his toes. He stumbled painstakingly to reach his fellows, and they were crazy, as Frankie had imagined, about "his" high heels. The time they viewed Frankie they bursted into laughters. They liked Frankie, especially when Frankie came up with another prank.
That was a pair of common high heels for a mid-class woman like Frankie's mother. But at that time, it was the focus over the ice. "Hey, Frankie, can I try them on?" other boys pleaded him for a try-on, but he refused them all. He walked like a penguin, a proud penguin. But the moment he thought to himself "Mission Two complete", he got a slipped over. The famous local bully, nicknamed the Shark, who was much taller than Frankie, pushed him from the back. It was easier to slip than on skatingshoes, no mention to sustain the balance after such a meaningful push. Then the bullies came over, intently, they barbarianly pulled the high heels from Frankie's feet, Frankie's fellows freezing there, startled.
"Hey, pass them over here!" the bully head Shark demanded, then went on the ice a rugby game. The rugby, namely Ma's high heels, the players, the bullies. Frankie got to his feet, together with his fellows tried to get the shoes back, but it was a Mission Impossible. The bullies were much stronger and taller, and maybe some well-trained rugby throwers and catchers. "Stop! Stop!Give Them Back To Me!" cried Frankie at the top of his voice. No response, but some playful, impatient eyesights and words in a teasing tone such as "Hey, you freak, come over and get it?" Obviously it made no difference to this bunch of bullies however hard Frankie had tried. The atmosphere went crazier and crazier, out of control, the happier these bullies were enjoying themselves with the rugby game, the more suffering Frankie was. He was irritated, but he could do nothing but wait there for "salvation". He got a corner to isolate and hide, tasting his tears lonely. He felt guilty. Under the bright sky, the surface of the ice shone colder to his eyes.
Then arrived his mother, woke up only to find her son missing with her high heels, so worried and anxious, she and Pa searched the whole town before they came to realise the Hudson Bay may be the place. The time they reached there, Frankie was burying his head in a corner under a fir, speechless, with a scar on his left leg bleeding, produced during the struggle for the high heels. The game was on, but as soon as they caught the sight of Frankie's parents, Shark's group left the shoes and fled instaneously. Frankie's Ma saw her high heels being chased after by the bullies', she looked at Frankie's bare feet and his shoes put aside, immediately this clever woman knew generally what had happened.
Frankie didn't pronouce a word, even though he noticed his parents' figures. The moment the bully fled, Frankie went wild, like a unchained hungry tiger, and rocketed off his seat before his parents could reach him. Barefoot though, bleeding though, he eagerly, streneously and determindly sought the high heels abandoned on the ice. He forgot all his pains, in his eyes burnt the flame of will, the will to locate Ma's high heels and return them back, return them back to mother, and return them back to mother well.
His parents stood there, shocked, all they could see is their son recklessly rushing to that "little red dot" lying to the horizon. He stumbled over about ten metres before it. Then he crawled, he just crawed there. Got it! He smiled, wiped it clean, held that high heel tightly to his face.
He had been struggling to find the other one, but failed in vain. It was later informed by one of his fellows that the other was droped through a hole in the ice, into the icy water beneath. Home, Frankie held out the only high heel to mom, "I'm sorry, mom. I'm terribly sorry." Pa didn't say a thing to Frankie as he usually scolded him. Ma held Frankie into her arms, kissed him on his hair, "OK, let bygones be bygones. But don't let us be worried about you again." She was such a mother, in whose magical arms Frankie could soon regain his peace in his heart.
Often, Ma would take Frankie to the local amusement park, where children played their weekends away. Among all the amusements, Frankie loved the scenic railway and the model aeroplane the most.The scenic railway namely a mini train of nine or ten compartments, went over the artcificial vallys, went through the fake hills at a speed changeable and feasible, thrilled the little passengers. They cried out when the train speeded up going through the minute darknesses under the bridge of the rocks; they cried out when the train drove jolting on the railway below which an ground lied, open, three metres deep; the mini train let out its "mini" whistles, which sound Frankie would never for a lifetime forget. The model plane was a trainer aircraft, its body printed blue, at first it was forbidden to sit in its a pilot's compartment, so Frankie waited and waited, and one day it suddenly disappeared! And disappeared for good! Frankie would linger about the plane before dragged home, however it always, and forever, remained a "mystery" to Frankie. Besides the scenic railway and the mysterious aeroplane, Frankie loved no more. He feared the Ferris wheel and the merry-go-round bored him good."What about the bumper cars?""Oh, that's my last choice."
What is interesting about one's memory is, sometimes you think you've forgotten her all, but on a particular afternoon, or a particular sleepless night, she would spring up from nowhere, then she lightly pat your back, and elegantly rest by your shoulder, until you turn over your head and see clear her crystal face, a face of an old friend who you have long lost in touch with, then you will realise she was never gone, she lived within you, but masqueraded, for a timely reunion.
Frankie is shocked by this reunion!
He can't remember the bumper cars at all, even the model plane. Of the amusement park, all he can recollect now, why, is just a dusk, a common dusk?
The descending sun moderately casted its warmth and light over the central garden, bathing the flowers and grass,the cobbled paths, and the stone deers and the wood fences with a sense of sorrowness. The children were taking turns on the slides, like the children, the sun seemed unwilling to leave.
Frankie was one of them. Ma stood aside to keep his company. There got less and less children--they went home as the day turned dark. Frankie was always the last one to go. At last there remained only two children, Frankie and a girl. The girl looked older than him, wearing two lovely braids. She was in a blouse, the color of which was so blurred by the hues of the dusk that couldn't tell. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing two dirty hands. She gazed at Frankie, with her bright and curious eyes. Frankie knew she was about to say something, so he prepared to make a response.
"Are you a boy or a girl?"
That was never a question that Frankie would ever imagine, Frankie's face instaneously turned red, heard this, Ma couldn't help laughing, she seemed provoked into a "earnest" interview with that girl.
"Just make a guess!" Ma said, playfully, Frankie stared at her, his face redder, his mouth pouting tighter, he seemed very very very speechless and discontent.
"A boy!" the older girl answered after a profound observation and a thoroughly pondering.
Frankie seemed relieved.
"Are you sure? Just think twice." Ma didn't give up, tentatively, she played a trick on that girl, trying to mislead the girl with her tale-tell eyes.
The girl thought twice, "Oh, a girl!"
Frankie couldn't remember if he was driven crazy or not. "At least. I couldn't have cried, for I possibly knew that would make me appear more girlish." He fingeres his mustache, smiles, hardly can him imagine:this man used to be "sissy".
What is interesting about one's memory is, sometimes you think you've forgotten her all, but on a particular afternoon, or a particular sleepless night, she would spring up from nowhere, then she lightly pat your back, and elegantly rest by your shoulder, until you turn over your head and see clear her crystal face, a face of an old friend who you have long lost in touch with, then you will realise she was never gone, she lived within you, but masqueraded, for a timely reunion.
Frankie is shocked by this reunion!
He can't remember the bumper cars at all, even the model plane. Of the amusement park, all he can recollect now, why, is just a dusk, a common dusk?
The descending sun moderately casted its warmth and light over the central garden, bathing the flowers and grass,the cobbled paths, and the stone deers and the wood fences with a sense of sorrowness. The children were taking turns on the slides, like the children, the sun seemed unwilling to leave.
Frankie was one of them. Ma stood aside to keep his company. There got less and less children--they went home as the day turned dark. Frankie was always the last one to go. At last there remained only two children, Frankie and a girl. The girl looked older than him, wearing two lovely braids. She was in a blouse, the color of which was so blurred by the hues of the dusk that couldn't tell. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing two dirty hands. She gazed at Frankie, with her bright and curious eyes. Frankie knew she was about to say something, so he prepared to make a response.
"Are you a boy or a girl?"
That was never a question that Frankie would ever imagine, Frankie's face instaneously turned red, heard this, Ma couldn't help laughing, she seemed provoked into a "earnest" interview with that girl.
"Just make a guess!" Ma said, playfully, Frankie stared at her, his face redder, his mouth pouting tighter, he seemed very very very speechless and discontent.
"A boy!" the older girl answered after a profound observation and a thoroughly pondering.
Frankie seemed relieved.
"Are you sure? Just think twice." Ma didn't give up, tentatively, she played a trick on that girl, trying to mislead the girl with her tale-tell eyes.
The girl thought twice, "Oh, a girl!"
Frankie couldn't remember if he was driven crazy or not. "At least. I couldn't have cried, for I possibly knew that would make me appear more girlish." He fingeres his mustache, smiles, hardly can him imagine:this man used to be "sissy".
