Tenderfoot...by Ern Grover

[Guest guest]

Tenderfoot-

-by Ern Grover

 

They mocked him as he rode by on his bicycle. Their stinging

words burned in Billy's heart as he fought back his tears.

Soon he'd be home and far away from his tormenters. Billy was

born of alcoholic parents in a small coastal village of Maine.

Doctors concluded he and his siblings would reap the harvest

of his parent's indulgence. He was a slow learner and plagued

with stuttering and a slow drool.

 

Lack of hygiene at home kept most people at a respectable distance.

Billy had a kind heart, but he had a very low self-esteem especially

when confronted by his peers. I was Billy's only friend during

childhood.

 

We lived only a short distance from each other, so it was natural

we found ourselves running through the woods or swimming under the

bridge during the summer months. Billy joined the Boy Scouts with

me when we turned 11.

 

I arrived in my uniform, but Billy arrived in his tattered and dirty

clothes. His parents couldn't afford to give him new clothes, and a

Boy Scout uniform didn't fit into their drinking budget. My dad saw

his plight, so he rummaged through some packed clothing and came

back with my older brother's uniform. It didn't fit very well, but

after a few alterations it became respectable. I felt his anguish

during our first Boy Scout meeting. A couple of boys behind us

snickered " bugsy-wugsy " , " dumbo mumbo " and other such cutting words.

 

When we were dismissed from formation, Billy and I were assigned to

the Wolf Patrol. We opened the flexible covers of our new Boy Scout

handbooks with an eagerness to see what adventures lay before us. I

read the introduction, and Billy looked at the pictures.

 

As the weeks passed, Billy became more discouraged. Because of his

learning disability, it would be difficult for him to continue in Boy

Scouts. The jeering by peers continued outside the meeting hall, but

it was his inability to read and comprehend which would become his

downfall.

 

Billy and I watched my dad pulling on the mooring ropes of the boat.

We gave him a hand, and Billy grabbed the loose end and tied it

around the tree. My dad looked up.

 

" Where did you learn to tie a knot like that, Billy? I'm all thumbs

with knots. " Billy took that as a compliment. With a smile on his

face, he stuttered his response. " I... I... I've got lotsssss of

time on my hands. " My dad's eyes lit up, and I could visualize his

brain gears turning.

 

Over the next weeks, Dad worked with both of us from the Boy Scout

handbook so we could pass our requirements for Tenderfoot. What

Billy couldn't read, he was finally able to memorize after repeated

drilling by my dad. In turn, Billy showed my dad how to tie knots

and splice rope ends.

 

Billy's moment came during our awards banquet that fall. The troop

scoutmaster congratulated Billy for his achievement. Then he offered

a shock to the entire assembly of Boy Scouts and parents.

 

With his hand upon Billy's shoulder, he announced, " Billy is my

Number One Scout for knot tying. From this night on, no one passes

the requirements for knot tying and rope work unless Billy qualifies

you. "

 

A tear began to trickle from the corner of Billy's eye as he stood

there, proud and smiling, and a few onlookers cleared their noses

during his moment of triumph.

 

-- Ern Grover

-------------------------------

 

I hope that everyone is well. This year is quickly going by. Soon the

a new year will be upon us. I wish you a day full of sunshine and a

heart

full of love.

 

Harold

http://gemsofthought.tripod.com/poetry/

 

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