Bobs, Part 6c

On the corner of Fourth Street and Raymond Avenue, directly across the street from the gate to the Washington School playground, sat a very large estate with a retaining wall around it. I say estate because of the size of the place. It took up most of the block. No one could see the house itself for the tall hedges.

The wall was low, about 18 inches in some stretches. On that wall Vivian Hagosky sat beside me holding me by my wrists so I could not move. Bobby Blake sat on the other side of me. Every protest that I had to get home, every plea to let me go brought a "No. You can't go," from Bobby. Every attempt I made to stand or to run tightened Vivian's grip on my wrists.

Bobby wanted me to stay where I was. That was clear. And since Vivian was the biggest girl in our grade and the strongest, she was the right person to keep me put. He was planning to kiss me, but I didn't know it. And he didn't do it.

I was half frightened. Of being held there, of Vivian, and a little frightened of Bobby. When I finally made my escape--they probably just let me go--and ran home, I found my dad waiting at the back door, something he had never done before. Likely it was my mother who worried about me, because it was getting late, and set my dad to watching. She would have been teaching piano lessons in the front room.

Bobby followed me home, but he should not have. I betrayed him, told my dad it was that boy's fault I was so late. My dad yelled at him, as only my dad could, and scared him off. I might have thought that was that.