So nice! Sigh. |
I played hooky.
Once.
For those of you who don't know,
'hooky' is a term coined to describe being absent without leave.
In my case, I was absent from school.
And I didn't do it alone.
Maybe I should explain . . .
We were in grade twelve. For the last
semester of my grade twelve year, I lived with Debbie's family, the
Joneses, and attended school in the town of Magrath.
Our school bus arrived promptly every
morning at 7:30.
After an hour and a half commute, we
would arrive, sleepy and slightly dishevelled at the Magrath High
School to begin a day of instruction.
One morning, one of us really wasn't in
the mood.
Oh, she got up all right.son
Got ready.
Endured the bus ride.
But, standing there in front of those
venerable halls of learning, she balked.
“I don't wanna go,” Debbie said.
I stared at her. “What?”
“I don't wanna go,” she said again.
“Oh.” What did one say to that?
“Let's play hooky!”
“Debbie, we can't play hooky!”
“Yes we can! We've never done it and
the semester's nearly over!”
She had a point. Both of us had been
exemplary students the entire four months.
Which is precisely what my father
expected.
“Deb, my dad would kill me!”
“C'mon, Diane, it's only one day!”
I looked at her.
Have I mentioned that Debbie was the
only reason I ever got into trouble?
Well she was . . .
At that point, our friend Leonard, he
of the pick-up truck, appeared.
“Leonard! Take us to Lethbridge!”
Leonard looked at Debbie. Then he
looked at me.
I shrugged.
“Okay,” he said.
And she got other people into trouble,
too.
The three of us trailed out of the
school and into Leonard's pick-up.
There was plenty of room on the wide
seat.
We settled in for the 12-minute ride to
Lethbridge.
For a guy, Leonard had a surprisingly
clean truck. No trash rolling around.
In fact, the only thing on the
dashboard was his brand shiny new 'Western Horseman' magazine.
“Oooh!” I said, picking it up. “Is
this the new issue?”
“Yep. Just picked it up this
morning!”
“Do you mind if I read it?”
“Nope. Just don't damage it.”
Leonard took good care of his things.
Obviously magazines were no exception.
“I'll be careful.” I sat back
happily while the two of them chattered.
Lethbridge is a city of about 75,000
just to the north of Magrath.
Not a huge city, but one with several
malls and lots of shopping.
We spent the day going from one to
another.
And having fun.
At one of our early stops, Debbie and I
bought large lollipops.
Large.
On long sticks.
We spent the rest of the time . . .
ummm . . . licking.
Before we knew it, it was time to head
back to catch our bus. No sense in proclaiming that we had just spent
the day . . . somewhere other than where we should have been.
Leonard stopped his truck.
“This has been fun!” I told him.
“C'mon Debbie, we'd better hurry!” I slid out.
At that point, a friend of Leonard's
walked up to his window. “Hey, Leonard, where were you today?”
Distracted, Leonard turned to answer
his friend.
Debbie started to follow me.
“Oh, my sucker,” she said, turning
back.
Now Debbie had gotten tired of holding
the heavy sucker and had laid it down. Not certain of the surface of
the dash of Leonard's truck, she had chosen to lay it down on his
copy of the Western Horseman.
That same brand new copy he had been so
protective of earlier.
She grabbed the long stick.
Only to realize that the magazine came
with it.
“Uh-oh,” Debbie said.
Not only had the sucker stuck to the
cover of the magazine, but it had also stuck the pages together.
“Ummm . . .” she glanced at
Leonard, still engrossed in his conversation. “We'll just leave
that,” she said, and slid out after me. “See ya, Leonard!” She
slammed the door.
Leonard, still talking, waved
cheerfully and the two of us headed for our bus.
Leonard never mentioned his
sucker-stuck magazine.
The one he obviously never got to read.
And after he had toted two girls all
over Lethbridge.
Some fellow hookey-players are just
plain nice.