Moving

A week before we moved, Alfred followed his normal Sunday routine; he walked to church and back with the girls and me. Then we had a big breakfast.

After breakfast, Alfred said,” I’m going for a walk.”

It was only 12:15 P.M. when he said that. At 11:30 P.M. he came barreling in with a heavy limp. Every single spot on his body was bleeding. We quickly called a cab and I gave the cab driver all the money I had and told him to get to a hospital. Once we arrived it was clear to me we weren’t the worst there. People were sitting there holding their chests or legs or arms as if they were shot or stabbed.

Finally after being in the emergency room for over three hours, a doctor came out to speak to me.

He said, “Alfred has a serious concussion, 2 broken fingers, a sprained ankle, and needs 76 stitches. He will be very sore for the next few days but should be fine in a few weeks. Just keep a close eye on him for the rest of the week.”

At 3:30 A.M. we finally got home. I was too tired to even ask Alfred what happened to him. The next morning Alfred got up around 10. The girls had gone to school. I called him into the kitchen to talk to him about last night.

I asked him, “What happened to you last night? Were you in a fight up?”

“I got kicked and punch and hit,” said Alfred, “by some guys I didn’t even recognize. They tried to mug me but once they realized I had nothing for them to mug they just beat me up.”

“THAT’S AWFUL!! Was this a gang of boys your age? You don’t remember anything about them? I told you to be careful with all these gangs taking over our neighborhood.”

Later that day, the girls came home from school and told me their school had been robbed by a gang of men wearing bandanas. I realized then that Manhattan wasn’t safe to live and that Alfred, the girls and I were leaving. I called my cousin in Reardon, Washington to discuss the move with him. He told me there was an job opening at his plant and if I could get out there soon, the job would be mine. We decided I would pack up and move that very week.

When I told the girls and Alfred about it, they were unhappy and didn’t want to leave their friends. The girls were scared to go to a new school and Alfred would have to finish at Reardon High School. Alfred didn’t like this idea and he went up to his room angry.

That weekend we all piled into a cab for the last time for a long slow drive to Penn Station. When we arrived it was total chaos, people were talking, shouting, eating, looking for their train, all sorts of things. I don’t think I had ever seen this many people in such a rush in my life. Once we boarded the train we found seats and got ready to go on a 5 day train ride. We got to Chicago at 11 P.M, changed trains and spent the next few days looking out the windows at the ever changing landscape while the train made countless stops to let passengers off and on.

Finally at midnight on our fifth day of travel, we arrived in Spokane. There we found my Cousin Matt waiting to meet us.

The next morning, the girls left excitedly for their new school. But Alfred woke up late and left for his new school in a bad mood.

Alfred came home from school at noon stating “I got suspended. For fighting.”

“We left New York to get away from fights. The first day of school you get into one. What happened and what’s the poor boy’s name?”

“Junior. I don’t like the kid, he’s a sneaky little brat. He ran into me and pushed me. So I told him to say sorry. He wouldn’t so I pushed him back. Then he punched me so I hit him back.”

“You two just fought over that?” I questioned

“Yeah,I don’t like that school” Alfred said angrily

“Well, you’re going back there right now and apologizing.”

Once there we met with the Principle who asked the receptionist to call Junior to the office. A few minutes later, a skinny boy with a big head, arrived. He was covered with bruises.

“Sit down, Junior”, said the Principle, “Alfred has come to apologize for what he did.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you”, said Alfred, “and for fighting and for saying you’re a munchkin who can’t fight.”

“Don’t look at me, Alfred”, said the Principle, “look at Junior.”

“I’m sorry for fighting with you, Junior”, said Alfred looking at Junior.

“I’m sorry too, I should have said sorry for running into you.”

“Now stand up and shake hands”, said the Principle.

I heard Junior say to Alfred when they were leaving “ I’m a twig, with an over sized head, and no muscles. And live on the Rez so I’m used to kids making fun of me.”

Alfred asked “Why is your head so big? You must be smart. And what’s a Rez?”

“ The Spokane Indian Reservation. I’m Native American,” said Junior.

“Wow, I never met a true Indian before,” exclaimed Alfred with amazement in his voice. “ But, at least you’re smart, right?”

No, quite opposite I was born with to much cerebral spinal fluid inside my skull, a fancy was of saying I got to much grease inside my brain.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it helps me with the ladies.”

At that, the boys laughed and walked off, talking loudly. I knew Alfred had made his first friend in Washington.

Robert Kass