I couldn’t sleep. I drove to Yorkview Public School at like 5am, eating breakfast and Mcdonald’s. The drive there was long, wow I didn’t realize how far it was.
I parked my car in the parking lot of the school for the very first time and walked around. I stood at the baseball field where I fought that gang of boys to defend a girl so long ago, checking the wood and metal for any remnants of my blood. The whole school and property looks so old and small. I remember how huge it used to feel. I wonder how my old buddies were doing. There was Randy who was like half black half white and an amazing sprinter, Matthias who was fresh from Hungary and a math super genius (they skipped him several grades in math). There was my grade 3 sweetheart Kaitlin Moore (who all the boys fought over), Teresa, another one of my girlfriends, a quiet blonde girl who spent all her time doing jump rope. While I was enjoying my walk around the property I received about 8 calls from angry creditors.
When I was like 6 I would go to a convenience store at Bathurst and Finch, buying candy and then re-selling it here on the grounds of Yorkview. That’s how I used to solve my money troubles. Ha ha. I had to do something. I was missing all the field trips and special events. Eventually I was paying for my own trips and supplies and signing fake signatures on my permission slips.
We used to have pizza days at school and my parents would just tell me to stay home those days, but the most embarrassing was in grade 5 at Brandongate Public School when Mr. Wood had the entire classroom do a traditional Medieval Dinner. We were to have our parents (lol) cook food and all bring a dish, and I remember everyone asking me what my parents would be cooking. I made up some nonsense and then skipped the day, later saying I was sick. I really felt a lot of pain in my heart though, not only did I get a hard beating for asking my parents to cook food for the dinner, but I really enjoy Medieval times and the entire teaching that Mr. Wood did. He knew I enjoyed it and he himself was disappointed in me for missing. That part hurt the most. He asked me if I would miss the Niagara Falls grade 5 graduation trip, which of course I wouldn’t. I forged my parents signature and paid for the damn thing myself using the money I earned selling gumball machines door to door and delivering the pennysaver newspaper. I had to fight my way through my early years and it looks like I’ll have to fight my way through my latter years also. And I don’t mind.