My friend Pasty Fore Kirkland was the most fun person I ever knew. Don't get me wrong here, I have had many fun friends in my lifetime, but Patsy came with a twist.
A twist that caught my attention immediately when I as a "newby" at W. S. Neal School as my Wallace class was known. I used the title "newby" instead of the well known title of a "feeder school" as the incoming/transfered students from out in the country schools were called. Wallace, Damascus, Henley Roberts and North Brewton schools were "Feeder" schools.
All us tenth graders from out in the country schools were transferred into East Brewton at W. S. Neal to finish our last three years education.
I was a first class countryfied "feeder".
I had spent all summer of 1956 in deep worry about how I would fit in with the established social circle at W. S. Neal. I even planned what I needed to wear the first day of disaster. Would anyone of those tenth grade girls smile at me, would they smirk and snicker behind hands that had birthstone rings or that coveted pearl mounted in nickel that leeched green.
So the big day arrived, I was dressed in what, I cannot remember, but it was puffed out to there by my new crinoline slip.
To die for. It was hot and scratchy and poofy and showed the delicate satin edging on at least a hundred yards of stiff netting.
As far as my dress tail standing out all fashionable lovely, I was in like Flynn with that cotton picking money purchase. The look was acceptable.
Was I?
I was lost as Moody's Goose from the time I stepped off the bus to find my way to the first class I had been assigned to. I saw spots in my vision from inhaling without remembering to exhale. Blood was rushing through my head.
The entire classroom was filled with tenth graders from the established students and a large group of students from all the feeder schools. I only recognized my classmates from Dear Old Wallace. They stood way over there.
I died from nerves.
THEN,
I heard a laugh that has stayed with me until this very moment.
That laughed belonged to Pasty Fore.
Patsy was sitting in a desk across the room from where I was leaning against the chalkboard trying to fade.
I never knew what was so funny to Patsy, but I liked how she turned red, her dimples deepened and she dropped her head while covering her mouth with her hand.
I knew she had something special about her because she never stopped smiling and giggling.
Patsy had IT.
Some people you just know are fun by the way they smile and break out in FUN.
Patsy was forever breaking out in FUN.
I liked her for that reason.
Cannot remember how soon we really clicked together, but I have a vivid memory of we two causing a ruckus in the Home Ec. kitchen.
Mrs. Peggy Bracken, our teacher had pleaded with Patsy and myself to sew our aprons. I never finished mine as parts were lost. I LOVED cooking because we could eat our creations.
Patsy and I sopped lots of bowls together.
One day Mrs. Bracken assigned a group of us non compliant students to mop the kitchen floors.
Patsy and I decided to have some fun while doing that assignment.
I suggested to Patsy that we should shake some Rinso Blue washing powders on the floor, empty a bucket of water and SKATE.
Here we were dressed in our poofy crinolines that held our dresses all out pretty like, no shoes or socks, but skidding and sliding and screaming with glee as the floors got more slippery.
Our audience was giving it up for us which called for more effort on our part. Patsy encourage me to skate harder.
Suddenly the noise stopped.
My back was turned to the doorway, I saw that Uh, Oh look on Patsy's face and I knew immediately things were not funny anymore.
There in the doorway between the slippery kitchen and the Home Ec. foyer stood Mrs. Brackin. Face on fire and disappointment all over she sucked her teeth and hooked her fore finger at Patsy and Miss Fun For All.
Other involved students scattered line Jacks back into the classroom while snickering and clawing through Butterrick patterns trying to look busy while straining to listen. I hated them.
Mrs. Brackin led Patsy and me into the livingroom/diningroom part of our building and pointed to her coveted Duncan Phyfe sofa. She suggested we needed to learn how to be proper ladies and walked out.
Patsy and I looked at each other. Patsy asked ME if perhaps we should finish mopping the kitchen floor before someone slipped and broke their noggin.
Uncontrolled guffawing.....................
Mrs. Bracken pouted against me and Patsy for a long time, but never said another word.
Lordy that was fun and such a good memory.
RIP my sweet, funny bone Patsy!
