Soon, she fell asleep again and off I
went back to the caboose.
As I entered I saw the men’s
faces light up.
I knew they liked me and
enjoyed my dancing.
Before I hardly got started,
Morton appeared again and said,
“This is the last time I’m coming
for you.
Mama is getting really
upset.”
Back to my seat, the end of
my dancing career for the moment.
The train stopped in San Antone for
a few hours and we all got off to
see the Alamo.
The three of us joined the
others and we went to this historic
site.
As we got near, all I saw was
a big building that was crumbling;
there were pieces of rocks here and
there or something that looked like
rocks scattered about the yard.
Inside wasn’t much better.
I knew it was very old but it
didn’t look very important to me but
what did I know.
After all I was mine years
old.
All I knew was that in school
in the history class we were told
about the brave men who fought in
the Alamo so I guess it must have
been a very important building.
San Francisco, here I come.
We moved in with my aunt and
uncle and cousin;
Tante Reggie, Uncle Abe and
Joe. They lived in a big flat on
Fulton Street, a street I planned to
conquer though I didn’t think about
that right away.
Now Maggie, listen to me, I am going
to tell you things I did when I was
nine like you are now.
I know you’re a cat and there
are things you can’t do but you can
do a lot of things I can’t do, so
here goes.
The flat had a living room, dining
room, kitchen, two bedrooms and at
the very end was a sun room
overlooking the San Francisco Bay in
the distance.
We, three children were
assigned the sun room, Joe, Morton
and me, each having a single daybed
placed against the walls.
Tante Reggie and Uncle Abe
had one of the bedrooms and my
mother and father (who had yet to
come to San Francisco in the other
bedroom).
And so my sojourn into the
big city began.
I enrolled in Argonne School.
The teacher said since I had
gone to school in Texas, she would
have to put me on probation.
She said that the school in
Texas might not be as progressive as
the ones in California and if I
couldn’t keep up, she might have to
put me in a lower grade.
Here I was fresh out of the
Wild West or so my class mates
viewed me.
They asked me about cowboys
and Indians and horses.
My answer was a cool smile
indicating as far as I was concerned
that this was a subject I did not
want to discuss with city slickers.
I never let on that I never
met any cowboys or Indians or had
never ridden a horse let alone even
gotten near one.
I relished my important
status and was treated with respect.
One of the boys, Alan Grover,
wanted to carry my books home for me
after class. I refused.
No tough Texan needed help.
In fact, I said “If you can
climb the telephone pole outside I
might let you carry my books. I need
to see how brave you are.”
With that, I approached the
pole and started climbing, standing
on the metal strips on the side that
the phone men used to climb up the
pole. I went up about three steps,
looked down and said “Alan, come on
up.”
He looked horrified and said,
“My mother wouldn’t let me do that.
I can’t.”
And so, this brave Texan
climbed down with a smug look on her
face.
Truth be known, I wasn’t
going to climb any higher myself.
more
. .
