Oct 28th 1958
Today we went to the hospital. That statement, in its self, tells a long
story. The hospital to me is a world in itself. A wonderful world. I don't
know why it is, but I'm allways much sorrier to go home, then to go to the
hospital. Most people weep buckets because they have to go, but me! I weep
bucket because I can't! But I can!! I found out yesterday, and now my heart
just sings, and sings "Im going to the hospital, Im going to the hospital!:.
It was yesterday, when we went to Dr. Rostrups office, I found out. I was
perched on the examination table when he gave me the news that he "thought
he should do another operation, and when could I come to the hospital?"
Oh, dear book, you can just imagine how I felt! I
When I heard the news, I looked at my face in the mirror. It was smiling,
hard. There mom said something about my limp, maybe, and I saw my smile
get rigid and my eyes looked queer. I clamped my jaws to geather, my smile
was still there, but it didn't look very happy - it was terribly unnatural,
and well -, sort of tragic. And my eyes were getting absolutely flooded
with salt water. Then the whole thing - smile especially colapsed. The Dr.
was looking at me too. Oh Journal, you have no idea how uncanny it is to
watch your face when it acts like that! And then I bawled.
"Don't you want me to do it?" asked Dr Rostrup.
"Yes" my strangled voice said.
"Then why are you crying?" Simple question, but to tell the
truth, I didn't know why.
"Oh shes a teenager, you know" said Mom, as if that explained
everything.
"Teenagers are pretty wonderful people. Ive got a couple myself,"
answered the doctor. Now, journal dear, wasn't that an awfully sweet thing
for him to say?
I think I love, yes love, the hospital so much because there I fit in.
No where else. Other places I am always on the outside of things, looking
in. But there I really fit. And there I don't have to feel like a freak
because everybody else is the same (or worse) than me. And maybe Ill find
somebody there. I wouldn't care if he had a deformity because I have one
too, and then I wouldn't have to feel inferior. Oh, journal, you couldn't
possibly know what it feels like to be a freek, Not knowing whether people
are nice to me because they feel sorry for me or because they really like
me. I know I shouldn't be bitter, but I am. Oh its so awful to know that
I can never be Somebody, or have any real friends or ever belong. I think,
of all things a person, specially a teen, has to know he belongs and know
he is loved. And I can't. Ever.
November, Mesa trailor court
Still thinking about The Guy - and his pet expressions echoing thru my
mind "That's no lie! And all that jazz ... I nearly flipped ... They
don't always croak ..." and one of our little jokes - "the westuhn
Movies" ... I think about him and smile. Really, he isn't so shy as
I thought. Hes like me, once I get started I'm O.K. but the startings awkward
... Hes got a nice kind of humor - not the stupid kind, or the "dirty"
kind, but the "raised eyebrows" kind, if you know what I mean.
His real father is dead and the stepfather works in the salt river project
as a lineman. They haven't got a real house, only a big 32' yellow and white
trailor. He told me that he wished they had a house.
I wonder whats eating the old man today? Breakfast was a miserable affair
this morning. I was thinkin' 'bout the guys and pop was being as Sarcastic
as anything. In fact hes been that way all the time, when ever Ive been
talkin' to them. on Sunday, when I came in for supper, after that B.U.T.ful
gab session with Gary, he told me, very dourly, that I "shouldn't have
sat on those swings so long because the other kids wanted to swing too."
That's what he said, and it didn't make sense because there were 2 other
swings that were empty besides the ones G and I were using. And this morning
when Mom told me about what Pooh said yest'iday he almost split from bad
humor - When Rudy came in from playing in the sand he told mom that "Elfy
likes those big boys and I like the little boys." I had to laugh about
that (because its true, and how) but pop, he says "how does he know?
Is it that obvious by the way she acts?" And he was talking about how
much I "wanted" to go to this crazy lake - being unbearably sarcastic.
because he knows very well that I don't want to go and I'm pretty sure he
knows why. I think that's one of the main reasons that hes so set on takin'
off in a hurry. He makes me so mad that I want to bawl and I do too, That
makes him even more sarcastic. It seems to me that my father is the most
disagreeable person I ever knew but then, I don't know any other ones as
well as I do him. Still, I think he is a hipocratical, nasty old man. Sourpuss
..! These are some pretty Strong words, I know, but thats how he acts and
thats how I think of him.
Twenty-nine Palms December 1958
I was in the pickup cab, by myself. The window was open, and I was leaning
out watching the intensely alive teenage boys across the street. I saw another
man go by walking erectly and directly, as if he was very proud of his uniform.
There were thought-lines going thru my head, and because the guys weren't
seeming to notice me, I turned on the light, curled up and wrote a few lines
down. But, popped into my life came Enno! I had seen the uniform go by and
had smiled vuagly, watching him out of the corner of my eye but now a black
gloved hand was knocking on the window. "A cop ?" was my first
thought and I just looked around, confused. Whoever it was wanted me to
roll down the window. So I did, not having the faintest notion what was
going off. Why, Mr. Uniform!?!! No other. "What kind of truck is this?"
he asked. That puzzled me, but I realize now that it was a conversation
opener. It did the trick - I could think of lots of things to talk about.
I studied his face - not unusual, not striking, not memorable, not delicate
or little-boyish; just a face. He was a Marine, just back from over seas,
had been in Japan and Hawaii for 2 years, lived on a little farm in Indiana,
was a Luthern, liked the farm best of all places, was 20 years old, likes
girls, is a bit shy, likes driving tractors better than cars, I was the
very first girl he'd talked to since he left Hawaii. He asked me how old
I was."What would your Mom and Dad say if they found me talking to
you?" (I told him that they were getting used to catching me in conversations
like this ...) "Oh! I think your parents are here now! " and unfortunately,
they were! "Hi" he said to Daddy and later as an explanation "Your
daughter smiled at me so I stopped to talk"!!! E-e-e-e-e-e-e-k Pop
natch had to crack a quip. "Well if she doesn't believe in getting
married she'd better stop smiling" and then he guffawed very loudly.
And of course they monopolized him. They always do, when they come I'm shoved
very rudely out of the conversation. I didn't think he liked it too much
either because those few times when he talked to them, he looked at me.
So Pop ended up in inviting him to church with us. He didn't have anything
else to do, so he came. I of course was shunted out to the back, and he
stayed in front with The Parents, looking very ill at ease. Daddy is so
disgusting. He suceeds in freezing his victum and making him bashfull, and
then excludes him completely. Then he came along to church, I wanted to
sit beside him, but that, of course couldn't possibly be arranged. So, I
just smiled at him once in a while to see that he didn't feel too strange
becauwse I feel sort of personally responsible for getting him into this.
Afterwards we chatted in the church ... he said some strange things ...
Things like "Every time I start to talk to a pretty girl something
like this happens" and we laughed about circomstances. And he said
something else too. "You'll be doing this until you're 17." "Doing
what?" I said. "This ..." he said with a quiet smile and
altho I can't figure out just what he meant, I have a pretty good idea ...
It was sort of dreamy, because I knew he liked me It did wonderful things
to my self respect and my confidence after all, hes a man! 20 years old!
January 24 1959
A dream I had last nite stuck with me all day, I've thought about it
all day ... It was very intense and so very real.
I was being kissed, by a young man with such tender eyes. He bent over me
and said oh so softly "okay, Janet ...." what ever that meant.
Then he kissed me - and it was so beautiful that I've felt stangly awed
all day. His lips were not exactly gentle-like, but seemed to express inner
passion. I felt him so close against me and found a great exitement growing
inside me. I felt his breath coming fast, and it seemed as if we were breathing
togeather, exactly as one person.
March 7th
Nothing terribly exiting today. I just went over to Ella's place and
chatted for a while. She thinks my walkin home with Lanky Friesen is a scream.
Esther thinks Im good for him though she doesn't quite approve. I don't
like this caste system in Clearbrook. You can't pick your own friends unless
they're the top most brass. That, I couldn't stand for. I'm going to always,
like just whoever I like and I don't care at all about caste. I don't ever
want to narrow my circle of friends to the top bracket and most popular
kids. Often, even the least popular are pure gold. So why not.
March 8th
Today has been boring. The sermon this morning was about overestimating
yourself or putting yourself on a higher pedestel than your neighbours.
I thought that didn't much apply to me but just a little while later I found
myself thinking rah-ther contemptuously of those little runny nosed Weins
brats.
March 12rh
There was another event - I saw those slim jims in Mary Beths and fell
in love with them completely. So I dashed in on a spur of the moment impulse
and tried them on. I could go into raptures about them, really!
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