Ukies, My Adventures in Ukrainian School
by Mick Mykola Dementiuk
These vignettes were written on an old manual typewriter long before there were any word processors, typing away like a madman. Those were the days when you felt like a writer, alas, no more. The computer has made everything simple and easy. Sally Miller of Synergy Press, my editor, had this manuscript but sadly passed away. I forgot about it over the years until it appeared in my computer files. Esther Crain of Ephemeral New York wondered if I had anymore tales of the period. I reread what I had and decided I might as well put it here. One of the things I recall are my early school years, in a way, I was cursed by them, too. Things occurred which I've gladly forgotten, yet they still lingered in my subconscious. Little by little they were a part of me. How much is true, how much made up, I can't really say. There's no logic to the events, they came as readily as they just as speedily departed. Yet as a writer I've learned to respect all the deeds and misdeeds of my past life, let me say, I don't deny anything!
For more early events in my life see:
Mykola Dementiuk – Sizzler Editions
Times Square Queer | Columbia Alumni Association
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Construction of St. George School late 1950s |
Old St. George's Church on 7th St around the corner from the school, circa 1950s
Ukies
My Adventures in
Things that were or weren’t …
My earliest memories were of things Ukrainian -- the language I spoke, the people I mingled with, the school I attended, and, of course, the dreams and hopes I had…
I thronged myself with the possibilities and adventures of the neighborhood. The little enclave became a world to me, which maybe lasted nine or ten years before I turned around and found myself in other neighborhoods with vastly different dreams and quests.
Still in memory I go back to them…How true are they? Are my recollections all fabricated? Can it be possible they don’t even exist for real? Where are those that can confirm these memories, these recollections? And are there any who can say “Yes, he had those dreams! But that was oh so long ago….”
I stand now and look about me… More bars, more girls, more drunks carousing through the streets…
Running from school
On my very first day in school when I was young and little and scared too, I saw a boy run away from school. He was an older boy in a much higher class, but it seemed a quest I too had to try. I never knew his name or if his flight was successful. I just watched him climb over a fence and disappear down the street…
Two nuns looked after him, but no one said a thing….
I was scared, but wondered, Where was he running to?…
###
.
1.Bouffant dress
It was 1960 when a few girls still wore bouffant dresses and little jacklets shielding their bosoms from my eyes which were peering out just to catch a glimpse of flesh, which I barely ever saw…
I was in the 7th grade and 14 years old. I was a man…well, a half-man without a woman, and hungry for it at every turn I made as I walked down the city streets. And on the
And then I saw her, a crinoline sex-pot but actually nothing but a dog in her looks, like putting on a dress by a garbage man and looking the part. I had seen her before in church on Sundays, my dick alert. And from a distance she was divine, a dream come true, but up close and you’d squirm while gagging as you ran from her. How many times did I see guys rub themselves as she neared then squirm out of her nearness as she came closer? Put a bag over her head, I heard older guys say, then she’ll be alright. But I never saw her with a man at her side; she was always alone, though prettily made up, with white gloves on her hands and a thin purse hovering at her waist.
I had decided I didn’t care how ugly she was, I was going to get me some…
I followed her after mass to Fifth S
It’s amazing how women dressed back then --yards of crinoline and nylons that seemed ripe for taking off, and slowly…because that’s what I intended to do…
I saw she was walking much slower now, then the hurried pace she kept up after church, so she must have come to her street and was now talking it easy.
I increased my pace, she was climbing a stairway and I was at the bottom looking up at her as she was going upstairs. Man was I hard! What a sight! I could see her garters holding up her hose under the wide waisted crinoline dress she had on. It was all I could do to expose myself right there before her….Then I looked up at her face and saw her smiling down at me….
Oh God, was she ugly! Thin but emaciated like she had been on a diet much too long; her bones very clear and evident, as if ready to snap and break. But even at the short distance she looked more like a man dressed up as a woman. The thought of putting a bag over her face was valid but how could I get near her to do that? I steeled myself and took a step up. I sensed she hadn’t moved a step…Was she awaiting me?
Near the top I took a chance and looked at her again. Oh, God, did I want to puke! Holy shit, she was disgusting! I suddenly grew very afraid. I turned around and bounded down the stairs I had just climbed up, took a few steps and looked back to see what I have saved myself from…
She looked very downcast and sad; from the corner of her eye it looked like she was wiping something. Hell, I thought, what the fuck? Why not?
I wanted to run back to her…but her front door slammed….
###
2. Olena
The Loews Sheridan movie house was in the Village -- usually I’d go to the Loews Commodore on Sixth
Eating my popcorn I saw the credits going up in the murky smoky lights when I heard very loud female steps pounding down the carpeted aisle as they trod down to a much distant seat a few aisles beneath me. High puffed blonde hair and a slim body in a dress instantly had my erection rising; all I could do was gaze at the shadow of her head below me.
I was slowly nibbling on my popcorn when a man walked down the aisle and took a seat in her row. I got still harder and I knew I’d better keep my hands away from my dick -- just last week I had been caught in the bathroom by a nun who was outraged over what I’d been doing to myself: jerking off…
After a while, maybe 2, 3 minutes, the man inched up and took a seat next to her. Man, was I hard! I looked around, just a few people whose heads shown up the movie light, and I wished I had a jacket or raincoat to cover myself as I unzipped my pants and pulled my hard stiff dick out…
I could just imagine she was doing the same to him…I came, spilling my jism on the floor as I saw the man shanking uncontrollably and contorted in his seat. But the female seemed to look at him as the man shivered helpless beside her.
“That is gross!” she squealed at him, and stood up and just walked away.
Oh my God, it was Olena! from my class in school, but she didn’t look like an innocent schoolgirl but a movie theater hooker. I quickly zippered up and I was right after her.
She stopped at the concession stand and was getting some popcorn when she saw me and her eyes went wide but she turned about as if not having seen me. I also nervously approached the concession stand. She was stooped over and retrieving some cash for her popcorn when I saw her face, a load of makeup and mascara that my wet dick got instantly hard again.
“Hi, Olena,” I said, “How you doing?”
She looked at me, her expressionless face looking angry, like she didn’t know me. She looked about her then said, “Yes? Did you mean me?”
I stared at her. “Olena,” I said. “It’s me, Kolya, from school.”
She scowled and looked over at the smirking concession guy and gave him her dollar to which he turned to get her change.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” and she put her change in her purse and hurried to the ladies room.
Bitch, I thought, and looked at the smirking concession guy, and left the theater. I didn’t care about seeing the Monster of the Lagoon, or whatever….
###
3. Andrey and Kathia
It was a match made in heaven…or maybe in hell…who the heck knew?
Andrey and Kathia were a couple ever since the 6th grade, when pubescence was retreating and hormones were sticking it kicking in. Or so everyone thought…
At first the nuns in school kept them apart, after she had seen they were holding hands, but by the 7th grade they were caught kissing and feeling each other so that the principal had to call their parents to advise them of the situation….Ah hem, cough cough…
They walked to and from school like they were engaged or newly married, holding each other tightly and both headed for their right place, in bed, or so we thought.
But by the 8th grade the head priest of the church was informed.
Father Josephat was an old priest living out his life in a still and quiet atmosphere, who couldn’t be bothered about the trivia of the life around him -- serving mass twice a day then puttering about in his office and rooms.
“Where is Sister Superior?” he simply asked when informed of the outlandish teen children. “That’s her matter; she’ll handle it.”
But when told about the children were having sex in a back pew in church Father Josephat raged and fumed.
“What?!” he bellowed, and crossed himself, knowing this was the Lord’s way of testing his faith. The devils slick but not as slick as Father Josephat can be! he mumbled to himself and prayed as the heathen children were brought before him.
Andrey was red faced and ashamed, not to mention he was frightened as well. But Kathia walked proudly as if she had done nothing wrong and was getting bothered by some kind of nonsense.
“You were in the Lord’s church!” he shouted. “Don’t you fear for your eternal lives?!”
Kathia yawned and looked at one on her nails. Father Josephat gripped Andrey by ear and dragged him outside, where the nuns awaited him. He turned back to Kathia and angrily sighed and collapsed into a chair.
This was not something that my old age can bear, he thought. I’m already too tired of and a younger priest was needed to look after.
“Since when is kissing a sin?” asked Kathia. “OK, I’m sorry we did in church, but it’s not a crime.”
Father Josephat stared at her, she was a nice looking girl; too bad she was so pretty. He shook his head. “You did more than just kiss, I’m sorry to say.” And with his awkward coughing he got it out.
“What?” exploded Kathia, and turned red and blushing. “I have no idea what Sister may have said but I’m still a virgin….you can check for yourself,” and started unbuttoning and un-zippering her blue jumper.
Father Josephat coughed again and straightened up. “No, no,” he said, “a slight misunderstanding….get back to your class.”
Kathia paused in her disrobing and looked at the old priest. This was easy…too easy. She shrugged and didn’t take off her jumper.
“Thank you, Father,” she said, and bowed and returned to school.
Two weeks later school ended for the summer. It was discovered that Kathia was pregnant; they were certain who to blame…But Andrey was confused, he still was a virgin!
###
4. After Olena
It was in the 6th grade when I sat behind Olena and I saw her bra molded in her school jumper; I had a hard-on all day. I remember I didn’t know what I was seeing, some material in her clothes, but staring at it during class I realized it’s a bra I was looking at!
When class broke for lunch I bolted out of my seat and bumped right into Olena standing up. She scowled at me and gave me a dirty look that I interpreted as liking me. I dreamt of her that night, the bed rattling and shaking and finally fell asleep.
The next day was a Saturday, no school but jerking off most of the day. Parents were out, shopping, socializing, whatever, but I had thoughts of one girl, Olena, whom I had never thought of before. Earlier my sex dreams leading to masturbation were of girls I saw on the street, tight skirted teenage girls that I had passed by, or their tight pants showing off nylons molded in garters and nylons that proved they were getting bigger. The idea that a girl would wear nylons under her pants and showed the bulges off repelled some guys. I heard them talking about it but not me, it only excited me even more. Still I never thought of the girls in class as sexual objects…but with Olena now I did.
Sunday I got all dressed up for church and was on the street early, slowly sauntering along but my eyes peeled for Olena. Then I saw her, in a pink dress with frills, accenting her bouffant dress style that widened out from her narrow waist, and her breasts also widened out from bulkiness which hinted at the nice size within. I took a chance and speedily caught up to her.
“Olena, hi!” I said, hoping that my loose pants would shield my erection puffing out.
She frowned at seeing me and turned away but kept on walking. I caught up to her pace, thinking I’d sit with her in church, when near the doorway, Alex, an older boy from high school, surreptitiously squeezed her hand and they both entered the church.
I paused in the doorway, nodded at other students hurrying in, then turned and walked away. I didn’t have a key to get home so I went up to the rooftop and masturbated up there above the
###
But it didn’t help that the poet’s Shevchenko’s picture was in every class with a great big one in the auditorium where his Ukrainian anthem, composed by him, was sung at every occasion. It didn’t matter that non-Ukrainian’s never heard of it; to Taras it had become a personal affront to him, an affront that made his blood boil.
Zhche ne umerla Ukrainya “
One day after drum and bugle corps tryouts -- which he failed, “I don’t blow,” he simply said, not being able to gush forth a blast of air into the regimental instrument -- he found himself over looked in the auditorium by the other students and tryout coaches. This was his chance….
He took a chair and set it before Shevchenko’s portrait high up on the wall -- standing, it reached high enough for him to get it. Taking out a red crayon and scrawled the letter S….when the auditorium door opened and Father Gregory entered. He was outraged, putting two and two together he instantly made connection between the piss and shit that had defiled the sacred hero….
Well,
“I didn’t mean S for Shevchenko,” he said, looking at me. “The S was for Stalin. That would wake them up for sure.” Stalin, I thought, the vile despot who had killed millions of Ukrainians. But in Ukrainian Stalin was a C and Shevchenko a Ch but I kept my mouth shut…
I never saw Taras again after that; heard he was busted and went to jail or else had killed himself with too many drugs….Who the hell knew?
Zhche ne umerla Ukrainya! I suppose….
###
6. DP for Dumb Pussy!
Sonia was new in school -- which meant she was old-fashioned -- but hell, anybody from the DP camps in
Her first days in school it was clear she didn’t speak the English language, which the nuns were trying to instill in us, aw hell, no one spoke it any good, whether we were born there or not, but at least we spoke in a tolerable mode and that got us by, little by little.
A few months after school began I was standing on the corner with Mikhail when Sonia walked by.
“Dumb pussy!” was his normal stuttering, but Sonia turned around, looked at us and asked, “What is damn pussy? I no understand.”
Mikhail grinned at her. “It means you, you dumb pussy!”
Sonia shook her head. “I no understand, what is dumb pussy?”
Again Mikhail sniggered. “You, you stupid slut!” And with his laughter turned away walked away from us.
I felt awkward being on the corner with Sonia; a few times at home she played her part in my masturbation fantasies and I was scared she would know she was in them.
“Mikhail has a weird way of talking,” I said. “Don’t listen to him, ok?”
She scowled and shook her head. “What is dumb pussy!?” she loudly asked. “I need to know. What is dumb pussy?” her voice was loud and unafraid; some men stopped and looked at us as some women shook their heads and hurried away.
I glanced around but didn’t care who was watching us. “This…” I said, grabbing her between her legs and feeling her cunt. “Dumb pussy! Got it?”
I let go of her, her face was very red and embarrassed and without a word she turned and walked away. I jerked off three or four times that night recalling the feeling of nice meaty cunt in my fingers and palm. I dozed off into sleep still holding my hot dick….
Dumb pussy! In the morning I had a hard time getting up….
###
7. Olena looker…
Olena was a looker and you would never guess what you might see. It was all surprise --the way her skirt rose up her legs and showed off her thighs or a tight bra revealing itself on her bosom till you watched open-eyed disbelieving what you were seeing.
She was also a snob but at our age it meant a world of difference. Every time I saw her there was an older guy at her side, hugging, kissing, slobbering all over her that I’d run off and masturbate with the memory what I had just seen and imagined they’d be doing.
There was a teen hop that night and everybody was getting dressed and slicked up for the dance, mostly show-offs and eye-ers getting their fill of some luscious sight and going off to do some heavy petting and feeling. Cause I’d imagine that’s what they’d be doing; the idea of intercourse still hadn’t crossed my intimate thoughts. I’d get lost in the imagination of a body, clothed and slowly disrobing, inch by inch, garment by garment, until I was ready to shoot off my scum on a just bared bosom…never even knowing that girls had cunts….
I had seen her dancing earlier -- one of those slow dances that were hard-on inducers in every guy watching -- when I saw her again as I was going to the bathroom in the rear of the hall. She was going the girl’s room.
“Hey, doll,” I winked, pretending an acquaintance that wasn’t there. We must have passed a million times over the years and never spoken, when she said, “Hi, sweety!”
Amazing that I didn’t cum in that moment or grab my crotch and give myself a squeeze but we both stopped and looked at each other….
“Who’s your date?” she asked, and I felt stupid that I didn’t have one.
“Really?” she said, and put her arm in mine. “I’ll meet you right here, ok?” and she winked and entered the girl’s bathroom. I tore into the boy’s room and quickly peed when I heard the door flung open and laughter coming through. It was Stahsh and Petey, not exactly my type of guys but guys I tried to be friends with.
We nodded at each other and they resumed their chat.
“Man, I’m gonna fuck the bitch tonight!” said Stahsh, rubbing his cock as he was pissing.
Petey didn’t say anything, just smirked and said, “Who you gonna fuck?” It was directed at me.
I smiled and boldly said, “Olena, she’s waiting for me outside.” With that I left the boy’s room thinking she would be awaiting me outside. But Olena was a girl and I still didn’t know how long she would take.
Stash and Petey came out, still laughing and said “Liar, fucking liar! You ain’t going out with her!”
When the girl’s room door opened and she came out, looking as radiant and hard-on inducing as ever.
“Hey,” said Stahsh, “you’re not going out with him, or not?”
When Petey added, “All he ever does is jerk off to the memory of you, ain’t that right?”
We looked at each other, the four of us, and for a moment I saw a tinge of outrage and remorse on her face. It was like I had betrayed her and abandoned her.
Olena looked at me, then turned and walked back to the hall leading to the teen hop going on. Music pounded loudly as she went through the door and disappeared in the crowd. The door closed and the music was muted. Petey still smirking as Stahsh was rubbing his crotch, “Man, I wanna fuck the bitch too!” he said.
I had nothing to say just walked out of that teen hop.
###
8. Bitch
I must have had sex with Olena countless times…in movie theaters, in dark hallways, on rooftops…but that was in my head since I was always alone, always whacking off, always hating myself after. But did Olena know what I was doing? Of course not, I was just a 15 years old kid who had the hots for her and she didn’t care that I was alive and hardly ever looked my way.
One Saturday afternoon as I was going to the Docs soda shop where where most of the kids hung out, I saw Olena coming up the street. I was sure my cock was limp, since I just jerked off a few times and it was peaceful and composed. She saw me walking with a cigarette in my mouth and walked towards me.
“Gimme one,” she said. I didn’t look twice just reached in my shirt pocket for my pack of cigarettes. She breathed in the puff of smoke and breathed it out. “Ahh, better,” she looked at me then asked, “Where you going?”
“Docs,” I answered, thinking that I had never seen her in the soda shop. “You ever go there?”
She snorted and shook her head. “No way! That’s for kids,” and she looked at me and I knew she was looking at a kid. She turned and said, “Thanks for the cigarette,” she took another puff. “Oh yeah, have fun with your…little kiddie friends.” And she laughed as she went on down the street.
Bitch, I thought. Fucking bitch! And circled around and went back to my building. A rooftop is better than a kiddie soda shop, I thought, more adult for what I wanted to do…. Bitch! Damn bitch! I jerked off twice….
9. Vasyl and Vira
In the 6th grade Vasyl sat next to Vira and he snuck looks at her exam papers and the teacher saw him cheating, so she made him take the exam over and surprisingly he passed -- but by a thin margin. She had her eyes on him.
In the 7th grade Vasyl and Vira danced at the teen hop and the teachers thought he pressed himself too tightly that they had to break them apart -- still Vira was all flustered by the closeness.
In the 8th grade Vasyl and Vira ran away from home and went to
Vasyl’s parents blamed Vira for corrupting him. “Our boy’s a good boy,” they told the nun’s. “She’s the whore slut!”
To which Vira’s mother answered, “How dare you call my baby girl a whore slut?”
On and on in went, in Ukrainian, in Polish, in German, even in a little Yiddish that Vira’s mother spat out at Vasyl’s father to which he grew very embarrassed at her use of the Yiddish tongue.
“You forgot, did you?” she raged at Vasyl’s father. “Well, I didn’t!”
He tried to explain to his own wife and the nuns looking at him. “I don’t know what she’s talking about!” and he left and the nuns concluded the important meeting was over…
Vasyl and Vira graduated that year and found other lovers as they grew older…I suppose her mother never did….
###
10. Luba the Cunt
Luba was an older girl already in high school when I became aware of her. That is to say when she let me become aware of her.
I had already jerked off quite a few times when she saw me walking towards her. She slowly approached and stopped before me. My mouth was open and the fear had built up in me, when she said, “Do you let all girls just walk by?”
I looked around and yes, she was talking to me! She slowly shook her head but opened her mouth and leaned into air. In that moment I fell in love with her. Our lips met for just a little peck --barely even a kiss -- but it meant the new world to me. Then she shyly smiled, even turning red but continued up the street and walked away….
Each morning I’d be there eagerly awaiting her as she came by on her way to her high school, we’d kiss and she’d go off as I’d hurry to the boy’s room and jerk off again.
But a few weeks after that, as I’d be in the bathroom stall after just cuming, I heard the door open and someone take the cubicle nearby.
I grinned, no mistake about it, he (whoever it may have been) was jerking off also. I waited till he was done and left the cubicle at the same time he was opening the door. The look of shame and embarrassment was on him.
It was Zenon, from another class, but I took a chance and grinned at him, “I jerk off at home, it’s safer that way,” I winked.
I thought I was going to get a punch in my mouth but Zenon looked at me and said, “I been trying to get her at home, but the cunts no good.”
“Yeah, I know,” as if we were sharing a familiar moment. “All cunts are no-good cunts!” I said.
Zenon looked at me. “Who’s your cunt?” he said, washing his hands in the sink. “Luba from high school is mine.” And he went to the drier mechanism on the wall. “She’s a real cunt.”
I looked at him. There were no other cunts by that name in school; was I hearing him right? Luba the cunt?
I made up a name, Yulia, and he shrugged. “A real pig,” I added but he had returned to his Luba and how she had done him wrong.
“Every morning she meets me on
I thought for a bit. After she had me, she had him and after that the guy on
###
11. Double snow date
More and more Evgeny -- an older guy -- gravitated to me to where we had become close buddies always after the girls there for us, which weren’t many to choose from, knowing his reputation. But Klara, in a different class from me, did agree to go out with me and said she’d get her cousin, Daryna, to double date.
Evgeny was ecstatic and he rubbed himself, “Damn!” he said. “She’s a knockout!” And he went off to jerk off I suspected or plot how to get her. As for Klara, she wasn’t much of a looker or talker but a kisser that would drown your face in spit and tongue but I was trying to get her to go down on me which so far hasn’t happened.
Saturday was cold and windy with snow starting up. Was on the block I was to meet Evgeny when Klara showed up -- I was surprised, we were going to meet them both in an hour or so.
“They got busted,” she said. “Geny is a pimp. How come you didn’t tell me that?”
Wow, he moves fast! I thought. “Tell you what?” I knew his treatment of girls -- he had a few girls that were street girls or so they presented themselves, smart-assed and hip, but a pimp? No way!
“Well, the cops busted them,” she hissed. “What you gonna do about that? They got her too, she was with him.”
We looked at each other. “What the hell you want me to do? How the hell do I know what’s going on?”
We looked at each other. Our double date was over, if there ever was one. I watched Klara stalk on down the avenue. Real snow had begun after her.
###
12. Birthday girl
On Olena’s birthday she came to school with a big corsage at her bosom hanging there like it was another tit…or so the guys laughed.
“Hey, Ola, like your three tits!” and they’d roar in laughter. I bit my lip and looked down every time there was laughter. I didn’t see anything funny about what they were laughing at.
Just the evening before, a Sunday, we were walking in the Village and we talked about meeting somewhere next week. She wanted to go to
I glared at her throughout the day -- she hadn’t said it was her birthday the next day, the bitch! and she didn’t look once in my direction. But I heard she was going to meet her beau…after he gets out of work.
Cunt! I thought. No good fucking cunt! But that’s the way our secret boyfriend/girlfriend relationship had been going: away from the neighborhood and out of the eyes of those who might recognize us. So what did I expect? Fidelity? Mutual secretive contact? Hidden kisses? My ass…
I didn’t wish her Happy Birthday and went home…to angrily jerk off…
###
13. Two jerks
Sister Emilia caught Ihor jerking off in the girl’s bathroom. She had followed him and caught him in the act. I could just imagine him standing there -- of all the places, a girls bathroom! -- with his cock out, and furiously masturbating.
Ihor had finally told me this after I got it out of him. I turned red; just a month ago I had been caught in the boy’s room, also by Sister Emilia. What did that say about me?
But we both had to question what the nun’s motives had been from the start? Of course she was an authority figure, a nun in school, careful of what her underhanded boys might be up to, but when she saw what he was doing, pulling on his dick, why did she watch as he stooped down to rub his dick against the toilet bowl where little girls made their pee-pee? And only after he had cum and pressed his dick against the creamy murk only then did she bang on the door for him to open up?
“She was getting off too, I bet,” said Ihor, as we walked home up
I had to agree. “They watch us like they’re looking at a porno movie,” I said, “like they’re gonna get something.”
Ihor rubbed himself and turned red. “You ever think of doing it with a nun?” he asked.
I also reddened and dreamily said, “Sure, Sister Brigitte; I’d do her any time.”
Of course I was still a horny virgin and just going after girls and getting nothing in return, but Sister Brigitte was my dream, as I was sure she was the dream of all the other guys in school. She was the youngest nun in school and it may have been her first year or so that she had become a nun; I could just imagine her in a dress or tight pants that held her garter belt and nylons on a Saturday night and getting pawed and felt up by her date, which I imagined myself to be that lucky.
We had reached the block where we always parted and Ihor spat out, “Don’t jerk off too much….And don’t forget…Sister Brigitte….she’s mine!” he hissed and went off.
Asshole, I thought but I stopped, turned red and looking after him as he walked away mumbling to himself. That night, as I was jerking off and disrobing Sister Brigitte, I imagined Ihor was crawling in bed with us and doing the same. I was pissed and angry as hell that he was intruding into my fantasies.
Creep! I thought.
Good that Ihor got caught by Sister Emilia. Nothing to be proud of, but I was envious and prayed that it would be pretty Sister Brigitte that would catch me…one day…
I came three times then fell asleep…dreaming holy dreams of Sister Brigitte....
###
14. Teen hop
Finally in the 7th grade they agreed to let us have a hop, you know, boys and girls dancing and socializing; the boys with their macho stance and the girls with their feminine one, but all roles taken from the movies or TV but really going nowhere. What were we anyway, movie or TV characters?
I sat down a bit tense -- wow! guys were dancing with girls! But I was trying to make it look like it was a boring affair. I watched as the boys and girls swayed, weaving very stiffly and awkwardly. Then I noticed Sonia sitting there. Wow! I thought, she’s not dancing either. The nuns and priests were in a corner talking amongst themselves; I steeled myself and approached Sonia.
“Wanna a dance?” I said.
Sonia looked at me. “I just did,” she answered but then shrugged and stood up and started walking to take her place on the dance floor. I was right behind her.
She turned to face me and uplifted her arm to place into mine.
“Can you teach me how to dance?” I whispered, as our hands almost touched but didn’t. “I never done that.”
She looked at me with surprise but then disgust and anger teemed across her face. She stalked back to her table. I went the other way and walked out of the dance room….
##
15. Yuri and Wasylyna
Yuri was after her when she first appeared in class in that troubled Eastern European look about her which he found fascinating and intriguing.
“In
Day by day we saw him getting closer and closer to Wasylyna but by then she wasn’t so frightened by the rest of the kids, laughing and talking back.
It was in the playground on the roof when it happened. Wasylyna bent down to pick up a scarf she had dropped when Yuri grabbed her by the ass. Many of us who knew Yuri instantly smirked at his boldness and rashness, but she struck him in the face and blurted out “Swoloych!” Bastard!
It was a powerful and well aimed wallop that she hit him with and it sent him flying; kids were talking about it for days after. Yuri picked himself up but stayed far from her after that.
“They were all Nazis,” he simply said, “What does anyone expect out of them?” But it wasn’t fair, calling her a Nazi. Not fair at all….
###
14. 7th Grade Waste
Seventh grade was a waste! I had made the drum corps try outs and was very proud, practicing diligently, pretending I was blowing my head off on a bugle, or so I pretended, till I saw sparks before my eyes, my head and lungs aching and hurting.
That year I had Mrs. Buzzi as teacher and the fact that I had made it into the drum corps while her older son didn’t must have caused some resentment from her towards me. Why else would she treat me the way she did? But I didn’t care…the hell with her, I thought, until she stopped me from blowing our mouthpieces ang pretending with the other boys what our bugles would sound like in a parade. She ordered me to follow her to her office -- really a teacher’s lounge that she relaxed in with the other teachers.
Day after day went by while the other kids played and gossiped after lunch I was stuck standing outside of the teacher’s lounge, pacing back and forth. Other teachers walked by, glancing at me curiously, but after they had exited the lounge where they chatted with Mrs. Buzzi, they looked bitterly at me, as if I had done some vicious and wile deed that could only bring about their scorn and abuse.
After about two months of this, I had drifted into the logical psychological role play of being her victim -- quiet, docile and morbid. All interest in anything outside of me was for nothing. I came to class, was laughed at and taunted by the other students, then silently followed Mrs. Buzzi wherever she went….
On the day before Thanksgiving, before we went off for a four day off from school, Mrs. Buzzi told me to return to the teacher’s lounge where she had forgotten her purse; she said this loudly in front of the class that the smirks on the faces of my classmates were clear and evident that they heard; I hated them…and most of all her…
I was red-faced as I returned to the lounge -- nothing much, just a room with magazines and reclining chairs for them to rest and prop their feet up. Her purse was on the floor next to a chair, with a chair-bottom that had dragged and fallen down. I could just imagine her sitting there in that tiring position and even dozing off as she dreamed her teacher dreams. I stooped down to retrieve her purse when I reached down and ran my fingertips along the puffy bottom of the chair. I don’t know what happened but all of a sudden my dick was hard and out of my pants…maybe two, three, four strokes and I spasmed, shooting the jism out onto the chair bottom.
I instantly felt at peace, very relieved and uncaring, and smiling to myself as I spread my jism around then returned to class holding her purse and swinging it back and forth. The rest of the school year that cunning smile never left my face as other nervous teachers commented on my all of a sudden weird expression….they never learned about it.
And Mrs. Buzzi had nothing to say as she sat in her scum stained reclining chair as I stood outside and smirked to myself as the year went slowly by humming drum corps music in my head.
I knew I would never care anymore and I didn’t….
###
15. Ukrainian Christmas
Ukrainian Christmas fell on January 7th unlike the American December 25th. It was an old tradition which our parents followed, respected and adhered to, but more and more we teenagers began to follow the new American routine.
Oleksandr had a thing for Sosya. He had gotten her a seccret present, but what? We didn’t know, still we were sure that on Ukrainian Christmas he’d be standing with his gift before him.
Needless to say on the last school day before out winter break he was trying to hand her his gift but she thought he was jerk and tossed the present in the trash. Oleksandr retrieved it and skulked away.
It happened like this: January 7th fell on a Friday that year and though we had off from school we still had to show up for Holy Mass that day. It was nice having the rest of the day for gift-giving and family visiting. But smirkingly, we all had our eyes peeled for Oleksandr and Sosya.
Sosya was already there, sitting patiently in the girl’s section, when Oleksandr walked in and trod to the boy’s section in church. Their pews were filled with students and mass begun, was celebrated, and came to an end. Everybody was getting up and leaving the church when Oleksandr’s voice rang out, “Xryctoc razdayetsha!” Christ is born!
People stopped in their tracks and looked at each other, then smiled, greeted their neighbors and went on with what they were doing. But Oleksandr did not wait for Sosya, he disappeared in the crowd of people leaving the church.
Weird, but Oleksandr left Sosya alone after that, not buying her gifts anymore.
Do people change that suddenly? Overnight? Guess they do…
###
16. Andriy and Yuri
Andriy and Yuri were always together; you would have thought they were boyfriend/girlfriend but they were guy/guy and the only thing missing was their holding hands.
“A bunch of queers!” someone said, to which someone added, “Fucking sissy faggots!”
One quiet Saturday morning I was on my bike and went rolling down the
I instantly slowed my bike when I saw them and stood looking from under a tree. Just the two of them there but I felt very awkward; they were holding each other against another tree. Then Andriy stooped down and kissed Yuri on his cheek…I didn’t look any more but I rode away in the opposite direction…
On Monday I saw them in school but they were red-faced and weren’t holding hands as the guys around them laughed and taunted, “Hey, faggot!” over and over…
I never told anyone what I saw them do but joined in the taunting laughter, but my laughs weren’t that, in a way I felt embarrassed and wished I had never seen them…but I had...and never thought of why I had an erection too…
###
17. Too Close Together
The nuns and teachers kept them apart during the school day, except of course when taking their assigned seats which brought into contact with each other. Boys will be boys and girls will be girls said the adage but bring them together and there’s bound to be trouble, on one side or the other.
Oxana was a chubby girl and Pylyp was a skinny boy who sat next to her. No one knew it but as Oxana had been goosing him under the desk while Pylyp just sat there, scared as all hell, but not saying a word in protest, I rather think he liked it.
But it was Sister Emilia who one day caught them, seeing Oxana from the back of the room. Sister Emilia was even smaller then Oxana, but she ordered the big girl to keep quiet as she gripped her hair at the side of her head and marched her from the room.
Poor Pylyp just sat there not knowing what to do; I think he even cried a bit but not sure, or maybe it just his cold that had been passing around that year.
They changed Oxana’s seat, having her sit next to Daryna…another meaty girl and they became very good friends. The boys called then lezzies, but Oxana and Dryna were perfect, a pair made in heaven…and brought together by the nuns… What else can I say?
###
18. Pavlo/Paulie
And Pavlo -- who that year had begun calling himself Paulie -- had it in for the other kids in class. By the 7th grade he had formed into a natural bully that most kids in class just avoided or kept out of his way. Except Olena, she wasn’t afraid of him one bit.
One day after class she was walking down the street with her friends when Paulie called out after her, “Hey baby, shake those tits!”
Olena stopped and turned around. “What, dreaming of shaking your dick?” That brought laugher and giggles from the other girls around her.
I could see Paulie was pissed; his face turning angry and bitter. “No need,” he answered. “You shake my dick better and it’s still better when you do it with your mouth!”
They glared at each other. “W anna do it for me?” Paulie smirked at her, slowly un-zippering his pants. We were on
Olena snorted. “Do it what?” she winked at her friends, “With that tiny little baby thing you call a dick?”
Once more they burst out in laughter, when Paulie lowered his zipper and reached in and pulled out his dick. “Suck on this, you cunt!”
The other girls around Olena turned red and stood blushing at the sight; Olena shook her head and said with scorn, “Little baby, can’t even get it hard, eh?”
A few people were now looking at Paulie with disgust and shaking their heads.
“Come on girls,” said Olena, “Let’s leave the little boys to play with themselves.” And she walked off with her friends as Paulie turned red with embarrassment, their laughter echoing down the street.
“I’ll get you,” Pavlo/Paulie shouted after her. “God damned bitch!”
###
19. Neighborhood Fag
Vinnie lived in the neighborhood and it was clear what he was, a fag, that the kids taunted and made fun of him as he skipped by on the streets. But the taunting was good natured and it was interesting how red and embarrassed I’d turn as we all called after him “Faggot!” then run away down the street, laughing and teasing each other to go back to him.
Vinnie was a hairdresser who ran his business from his apartment, just one flight up the stairs. Many older women paid him a call and his place was always packed with women gossiping and waiting their turns to get preened over.
I had heard he’d pay an easy five bucks for just sitting there as he’d blow you but I never knew of guy who did that; at least no one admitted that they did it. I sure was glad that no one saw how hard I had gotten, as they’d laugh and smirk over how much money Vinnie would give them.
Hell, but five dollars? I said to myself, intrigued over the easy money I could get. I wasn’t getting that nowhere else, that’s for sure.
I knew Vinnie took off on Saturday afternoons -- learned this from the guys -- so at 3pm I was standing in the outside doorway next to his, watching a woman leave his house; I knew that this was a customer, her hair was expertly made up that it looked like she was going out for the night, dancing and drinking…or something, but definitely screwing.
I smoked two more cigarettes -- that should have given him enough time -- and entered his building.
The smell of perfume and hairspray was prevalent with each step I took up and neared his door. But the smell of women who had been there made my approach more enticing and alluring. My dick was hard and eager and if I just concentrated on that, how women smell, I’m sure I would let him suck and kiss me all night long, as long as my eyes would be kept closed. If I can’t see what he’s doing than it ain’t happening, right?
I listened; faint music hummed through the door which only added to the sexual tension I was feeling. I gently knocked on the door, waited an instant then knocked again, louder and firmer. I heard gentle footsteps shuffling to the door -- I thought of things feminine. The door opened…
Vinnie stood in a robe; his face creamed and adorned with makeup, something I had never seen a man in before and for a moment was surprised.
“Oh, my,” he said, all flustered. “But I can’t do you now, sweetie,” looking me up and down, but he gushed, “I’m waiting for my beau.” And he winked at me. “Come back another time, sweetie, like tomorrow, late afternoon.”
There was nothing to do but shrug and turn around and head back down…
But I still recall the scent of perfumes that were prevalent through the hall as I passed through the door and went back outside…
A pity I never dared to go back…I still think about what if I did?
###
20. Snowy day
The snow fell steadily and heavily throughout the night and still kept snowing when the morning eased into the day. My mother let me sleep; had heard it twice on the radio that school was cancelled. When I awoke, I was ecstatic that the blizzard had caused this and outside people were shoveling as they tried to move their cars around but got nowhere.
It was great! Today was a Friday and that meant another day off for the weekend. Anyway, I hated school and was very lucky that meant a day off from that hellhole. I was ten years old and when you’re a kid a day off is an eternity but why shouldn’t it be?
By noontime the worst was over, little flecks still came down, but the sun had revealed itself and it showed that hope still existed. I trod out there, all bundled up in boots and scarves and hat, ready to meet the end of the snowy day.
Mountains and mountains had been piled up along
Usually, the park was like an unexplored forest of crooks and crags but now it was a snowy white puzzle of mysteries… Who knew what would be revealed there?
With each step I took into the park I felt as if I was going deeper and deeper into the Artic, an unknown snow-filled realm but I had played and ran in this park like it was my own playground, and in a way it was….
After a few hours of walking back and forth, pretending I was in the snowy Himalayas, near 10th street I saw a kid just like me, all covered up in his coat and scarf and hat, slowly walking, heedlessly climbing, recklessly falling until he started all over again. Maybe 10 years old, just like me but I saw that he was from another school in the neighborhood -- never had seen him in mine. Then I noticed he had spotted me as well. Somewhere in that moment a look of recognition fell upon us, as if we were alone in this park and no one could tell us what to do.
I saw the boy bending down and making a snowball; I did the same.
For a moment we looked at each other, as if judging the other’s power and strength, then let the snowballs fly. With a nervous look I watched the two missiles fly across the air, pass each other in space, then fall without striking the other target.
It was fun, as he made another snowball and let it fly at me; I did the same to him. Some found their mark, others didn’t, until I had made so many snowballs and flung them at him that the snow around me had cleared somewhat and almost reached the black dirt beneath me…
That’s when I saw it…a rock wet with snow but pretty thick.
I smirked to myself, this’ll show him, I thought, making a snowball with the rock embedded in the center.
I stood up, he still was making another one, and I flung the rocky snowball in his direction. I saw it tear through the air…and come down…heedlessly falling…right in his face!
In the desolate silence of that snow-filled day I heard a cry, as if tearing through me. If this had been a contest there is no way on earth my missile would have found its mark as it did, but this was not a contest my rock had soared through the air and landed in a face, a face now shattered and broken….
I watched him fall to his knees and cry and moan -- at least I think he did. I saw a man close to the boy look in my direction as he approached the fallen boy…
I turned around and bolted through the snow to get out of there…I ran….
###
21. Nazi Priest?
Lunch time was a treat -- you could sit where you wanted most of the times, well, kind of…. The nuns always interrupted us and broke Pavlo and me apart whenever we got too loud or rowdy. And Pavlo was always in trouble…I got in a food fight with him, and the nuns dragged us apart and we had to stand in the hall.
He was only half Ukrainian on his mother’s side, on the father’s German side he was nothing but a Nazi, which the boys talked about but none of us ever knew for sure. Many of our parents had been beaten and tortured by the Nazis and we were sure Pavlo’s dad was a mean bastard, but none of dared mention it to him.
After the usual banter of who’s a sissy and a fag I called Pavlo a Nazi. “You’re a Nazi,” I said, expecting angry denial but he looked at me and said, “Yeah? So what?” And he raised his arm in a Heil Hitler salute and stood there. Was I supposed to salute him in return? Was this a game he was playing? When out of the door leading to the teacher’s lounge came Father Josaphat, his face alert but suddenly reddening, looking angry and fuming…as if he’d been caught after years of being successfully hidden…which we all suspected he’d been doing anyway…
Much later I still thought about that uneasy moment; was Pavlo showing off he was a Nazi to the now-priest or saluting someone who he actually knew was one?
But I’ll never know…no love in them or from them…so it’s best that I forget it...well....
###
22. Watching Olena
More and more I was getting bored of the neighborhood, the people, the kids, the do-nothingness and wandered off on my own. It was a hot sunny day, when I headed uptown along
I started walking up at S. Klein’s department store on
On
Right away I sensed a difference about where I was; taller buildings and most with doormen standing in the front as if a sentry you had to pass through to get in, and cleaner too.
Then I saw Olena coming out of a Horn & Hardart’s restaurant on
I smirked; watching her was like watching a movie and waiting for the good part, I thought, one never knew what would happen next.
She walked west on 42nd, pausing to look in a storefront window but nothing caught her attention to get drawn into a store; just taking a nice stroll along a crowded busy street --as I was doing behind her, though some distance away.
I smirked again when she crossed
“Oh, hi Olena,” I said, feigning surprise, “Funny meeting you here.” She was wearing lipstick with makeup, and that made her look a lot older. But she didn’t say anything just glared at me with disgust, then stood up, glancing at a guy sitting on the same bench, and walked out of the park. I watched the top of her head as she disappeared
down
I sat awhile, cursing to myself, then headed back downtown….
The temperature was in the 90s…Too bad girls have to wear nylons on hot days like this, I thought, as I watched some pretty secretaries pass by and imagined them wearing nylons too. Yeah, too bad, but I really didn’t give a shit….I went up to my buildings roof…it was nice there, for a change.
###
23. Third grade
I was in the 3rd grade and acting very rambunctious and always getting into trouble. We were in the old school building on Avenue B and
One warm spring day we were sitting as the nun was teaching class. It being a warm day the nun told those sitting near the fire door to open it and get some air in. Suddenly five boys raced from their seats to tear the door open, but somehow it slammed back shut as ten little arms tried to hold it open to no avail. A vicious cry burst from a little boy and since I was the closest to him I was grabbed by the nun and angrily shook as if I was the one who had forced the door to swing shut.
Needless to say, the boy was freed from the slammed door and my parents were called in to take their cruel and evil sadistic son home. Of course there were doctor’s bills for the victim, who wasn’t so badly hurt after all, just a rough scratch and tears of surprise from him but of course as a little kid he had to show off his hurt to the adults around him…and which I had to bear the brunt of what I did.
Anyway, he liked being a victim and got away with a lot after that…Poor victim, sure sure….
###
24. Satisfaction
In the 6th grade Vasyl told me that girls masturbate as much as boys do, but they have to have something to stick in…
“Just look at them,” Vasyl said, “too self satisfied. You tell me that they don’t use Coke bottles? C’mon...”
We were standing on the corner of
“That’s because they couldn’t get any satisfaction from their hands,” Vasyl said, and nodded his head as if knew what that meant. “They use their fingers like hard dicks,” he explained. “They gotta stick something in, you know,” and he winked his eye.
Down the street we saw Sosia slowly walking towards us. Her schoolbag was forlornly held by her hand at her side, and she didn’t look together at all.
“Wow,” Vasyl whispered. “She hasn’t had any satisfaction in a long while.”
I looked at her, a real mess but of course her father had died last week and was buried so maybe that was it. I mentioned this to Vasyl.
“Sex is a lot stronger than death,” he said, but loud enough for Sosia to have heard. “Sex, that’s what they’re after,” and he turned and walked off to school.
I felt like an idiot; Sosia sadly looked at me and also walked to school…I wanted to walk the other way but didn’t…I went to school after them.
###
25. Gone Away
Olena walked by pissed as hell -- the nuns caught her and she had to get away, but they usually caught someone doing something so it didn’t really matter.
“Doing what?” I asked.
She looked at me as if I was an idiot and said, “Oh, never mind…” and walked on down the street.
I hurried my steps and caught up with her. “But what did you do?”
She looked very sad and sniffed her nose, then reached for a pack of cigarettes in her purse. I bit my bottom lip and looked around; we weren’t very far from school and I didn’t want any one seeing us smoking so openly. She offered the open pack to me and I reluctantly took one and we silently walked on.
We came by the church funeral home a block away, and she said, “Ever have anyone die?”
I looked at the sad funeral home's façade and shook my head, “No,” I answered, “Is that was happened to you?”
She looked at me and said, “Well, I did,” she said, “Just two days ago,” and she threw her cigarette away. An old Ukrainian woman was standing there as we passed and shook her head; Olena glared at her but said nothing.
“I knew this guy,” she continued, “And was busted for stealing cars; they had a list of maybe ten, fifteen cars that he swiped.” Again she sniffed then said, “He’ll be going away for a long time.”
Is that what happened? I thought. A jail bird? What’s this gotta do with death? But I didn’t say a thing.
On Avenue A we parted; I looked at her walking along the park. What was I supposed to do anyway? I walked home confused…Who the hell died anyway?
###
26. Sammy
Sammy took the name from his Ukrainian name, Mykhailo Semenenko, which he didn’t like anyway. He pretended he was actually Puerto Rican and since he lived farther east, near the East River, where most of the were starting to live and populate, he had to change his nationality for all intents and purposes, or so he thought. We had many like that on the
Sammy decorated himself in a bandana, which most Puerto Ricans could be seen in as they’d jitterbug around the neighborhood, and even had a mask which he’d put on his head to look tough or strange, I don’t know which.
But Sammy’s father was a gung-ho Ukrainian when he'd get together with other Ukies but had strangely married to a Puerto Rican woman who gave birth to Sammy -- the usual mixed routine on the Lower East Side. And the father was a Ukie tough guy in the neighborhood and, of course, Sammy tried to emulate his father by being tough and gruesome also.
One time Sammy had words with Dmytro, who was pretty much a tough guy himself.
“Hey, semen,” said Dmytro to Sammy, using the derogatory English word of his name, Semenenko, which wouldn’t mean anything to a Ukrainian, who was packing his drums away after rehearsal, and “I know you don’t play a horn but you still blow!”
The drums went crashing as Sammy ran up to Dmytro. “I’ll kick your ass, you stupid Ukie!”
But Dmytro stood his ground. “You and who else, you stupid fake Spic?”
They glared at each other. “Maricon!” Faggot! spat Sammy, and flicked a push button knife and held it before Dmytro, who just evilly smiled and pulled out a .45 Lugar gun from his horn case, which he got from his dad’s military souvenirs.
I could see Sammy’s lips had grown dry as he just turned and went back to packing his drum case…
I went home. Woulda been nice to touch and hold a Lugar, I thought, sure woulda been nicer….
###
27. A Present
The 6th grade was suddenly pleasant and for the first time in those six years I had a straight non-religious teacher who was so much better than the nuns that had tortured us earlier. Miss Mazola, who was not Ukrainian but I think Italian, was very nice and understanding rather than the nuns who we were used to; but I think the nun's garb did that to them, created despots before their tiny helpless monsters.
And Miss Mazola’s class was a relief, an ahh! a take time-out so that we can breathe freely for a year before an even worse teacher befell us. In a way I could feel a sense of no worry on the other kids in class; they’d be more playful and chipper as they’d arrive in the morning and get ready to start their day. Even at the early masses we attended there’d be a feeling of relaxation as we’d all sit down and rise as the mass plodded along.
One spring day Miss Mazola announced that today was her birthday and she had brought presents for everyone: black cowboy wallets for the boys and white wallets for the girls. I was ecstatic, something out of Roy Rogers show on TV! I had that wallet with me for months and months, in my back pocket, as I’m sure the other boys in class had theirs too….Boy, what a treat that was!
Yes, 6th grade was certainly a delight….Hell came later, in the 7th grade….
###
--
28. Learning Fast
For the third time I had seen Olena and again she acted like she didn’t know me. The first few times were puzzling but when I saw her on
“You bitch!” I fumed. “You know damned well who you’re looking at!”
She just shrugged, stared at me, shaking her head and went down
The next day I saw her on Avenue A. “Bitch!” I said, as she passed.
“Fag!” she causally answered.
I turned red. “Why do you make believe you don’t know me,” I said, “When here, on
She looked at me and lit a cigarette. “You don’t know that game, buddy,” she said, blowing out smoke from her lips and nostrils. “When you do…well, then you’ll know.” And she winked at me and turned east on
I looked after her. “Crazy bitch!” I mumbled and went home to jerk off.
A week or so later I was in
“Excuse me," I heard her say. "Is this the famous park I’ve heard so much about?” she said, looking around. “I’ve always dreamed of visiting.” We looked at each other, and I realized I was seeing her for the first time.
I already felt my hard-on growing. “You need someone who can show you around, young miss?” I said, and winked at her. I stood up.
She giggled. “You learn fast, don’t you?” she said, holding my arm and pressing herself against me.
I was very happy and we went off into the crowded park…
###
29. Snowballers
The entrance to the school building was on a side street,
The school fenced-over the alcove to stop this thing from happening but one morning they found a drunkard who had climbed over the fence, took his piss, and immediately fell asleep in the safe haven of the school.
One snowy Friday evening the school was holding its Teen Hop festivities; I was in a doorway across the street with Petro, making snowballs to sling at the dancers as they came out from their dance. A few college drinkers walked out of their way from McSorley’s, but they seemed to ignore us as we did them.
It was fun talking about who we were going to get --each had a favorite-- but the question of why we hadn’t gone in and taken our chances and shared a dance with our favorites just never did come up. We were going to share love with the girls we wanted by a snowball thrown at them in the night.
We paced and talked and laughed as the do-wop music echoed in the night from the dance hall in school. Suddenly the door opened and out came a boy and girl, the boy wearing a winter overcoat and the girl protected by one of hers over a bouffant dress she had on.
Petro lobed a snowball at them even before I knew what he was doing. It flew across the air but landed uselessly on the snow covered sidewalk near them. Right away he threw another; we had made a mountain of snowballs just for the occasion. I was right behind him as another couple exited the dance floor and found themselves buried by a fuselage of snowy-filled bombardment. They ran down the street and me and Petro laughed and laughed as still others came out and got the same from us.
All of a sudden Petro took a snowball in the side of his face; now who could have thrown that? Another snowball came flying at us barely striking me as still another was lobed at us…thrown by a laughing pair of drunken college guys who had just downed a few and exited McSorley’s. Their snowballs at us were thrown a lot harder and faster, they were adults after all.
Petro and I took off down the street away from the drunken snowballers.
We separated on the corner, mumbling at the creeps who had destroyed our fun, each going his own way through the snow…to go home…where we dreamed about the girls we were after… dreamed and masturbated…
###
30. Standing
As usual, I was standing and waiting outside of the Teacher’s Lounge for Mrs. Buzzi to come as I had to escort her back to the 7th grade class…or was she escorting me? Aw hell, I didn’t know anymore….
It was still early and I had about a half hour to wait. As usual, I was mad at the entire thing. My friends were downstairs, laughing, gabbing, acting ridiculous as I stood here alone, resentful, looking foolish to any passer by, normally, other goddamn teachers.
Mr. Dalekoczac was the ugly old Ukrainian teacher. My father had always said, “You better be nice to him, or you’ll get it!” And he’d wave his finger at me as if he was teaching me a secret lesson that only he and Dalekoczak knew about.
Just as my father, and the parents of other kids in school, Mr. Dalekoczak had been a prisoner of war under the Nazis and of course he suffered for it…But he survived and became a teacher who during Christmas time was collecting gifts for himself; the old routine we practiced was our parents would give presents to the teachers and the teachers would give us good goods. No one dared mention that it was nothing but a pay-off. Weird, but that’s the way things worked in those times…
Well Myron, who sat next to me, didn’t have any gift for Dalekoczak, his parents were too poor, but Myron wanted a good grade, as he knew his grades barely passable. So he found a Christmas card somewhere and signed his parents name in it and gave it up for Dalekoczak’s collection.
Dalekoczak opened the cards one by one, took the money that was there for him and gave a little booklet as a keepsake in return. Yurza Murza, about a smart alecky kid who got a licking from adults was his favorite to give to the kids to pass on to their parents… I knew we smart-assed kids thought otherwise….
Dalekocsak eventually got to Myron’s envelope and pulled out the empty moneyless card. A look of confusion fell upon his face as he stared at Myron. His face quickly turned to anger and he crumpled the empty card up, cursed, glared at the timid Myron then went on to the next money-filled offer.
What a bastard, I thought, as now I saw him march down the hall. Firm chest under stiff posture that reminded me of the Nazi films I saw instead of him being a victim. He came up to me and looked me up and down, as if looking for something wrong he could now criticize.
“You here again?” he said in Ukrainian.
I shrugged and mumbled some remark.
But Dalekoczak angrily shook his head and began berating me for messing up the language, using propositions and adverbs instead of nouns as he had spent teaching us. “Hivno ne znayesh!” he cursed, You don’t know shit! and he stormed off into the Teacher’s Lounge.
I cursed to myself and went on standing, looking after him, thinking, pondering….and waiting…and waiting…always waiting….
###
31. Two Timer?
Again I had seen Olena with strange guys on the
It was a harsh winter that year; snow almost every week and a frigid cold that didn’t seem to let up. Going to and from school was more than enough, no one wanted to hang out anymore, except Olena, I guess…
I had seen her over time in the Village and we played her game of her being picker up, as if we were strangers and didn’t know each other, and I kind of liked it too. Sometimes we’d sit in the
Sometimes in class I’d stare off into space dreaming of Olena while she sat at the other end of the room until the nun would smack my head and scream, “I’m talking to you!” which would send my classmates into roars of laughter at how stupid I really was.
But that day I followed Olena after school to Avenue C, staying a block behind her, and the cold kept people off the streets, so it was easy to see her in the distance. Surprisingly, a guy stood out in the cold, just as I had seen another guy stand last week on Avenue B. Was this another of her game-playing lovers that I was finally getting aware of? But they didn’t spend much time together and parted as quickly as they met. She turned about and was walking back in the direction I was coming in.
Damn! Maybe if I lowered my head she would not see or recognize me? How would I explain what I was doing in the area? I saw her boots coming closer. “Kolya?” I heard her say. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
We looked at each other, the puffs of air coming out with out breathes. “Going to my grandmother’s house,” I lied. “Why the fuck are you here?”
Even in the cold there was a pleasant smile on her lips. “Marijuana,” she whispered and winked, looking around her. “God, I’m cold!” and she shivered, and looked at me as if expecting me to come closer and hold her.
I didn’t, but looked at her somewhat relieved, somewhat nervous that she was doing drugs that were used by Puerto Rican junkies, but what the hell did I know about it anyway. “OK,” I said, wanting so much to hold her but didn't.
She stared at me for a second, then shrugged and trailed off down the street. I walked a block the other way then took another street back home.
Damn, it was cold as hell! But I should’ve held her anyway, I knew that then but didn’t….Home seemed farther off than it was….
###
32. Fake Boobs
Everyone was stunned when big-titted Olga appeared flat-chested one day -- her big tits had been taken out by an angry disbelieving nun who made her disrobe and show if the huge tits were real or not. Surprisingly, there wasn’t mad outrage from Olga, who took it all in stride.
“Hey, I don’t care,” she said and lit a cigarette. “It just proves they’re all a bunch of lezzies.”
“Ha ha!” laughed Petro. “You’re a fake, just like your tits!”
They glared at each other and she said, “Is that why you were after me, you jerk?” And she walked away, her school skirt swaying at her knees.
Shit! I thought. She was nothing but a fake!
I went home and lay down and stared at the turned-off TV. Pretty soon my dick was hard and pushing at my pants. I thought about her non-existent breasts and finally had to grin. She wasn’t bothered by it at all; you would think there’d be embarrassment and shame but Olga just shrugged and walked proudly off.
I jerked off three times that evening and got to like her very much after that. I noticed that the other girls were friendlier towards her too…All fake things gotta go, I thought….Whomp whomp whomp…
###
--
33. Handjob Time
Sitting in the back of the Sheridan it was too crowded so we sat up front, with our heads tilted still backwards to see the picture that was playing -- a dumb Jerry Lewis comedy crap -- but we weren’t interested in that sick funny stuff, we came here with one purpose in mind…and we quickly got to it.
Olena to my left as we started making-out and feeling each other up. What I like about these movie theater kissing and hugging was feeling her up under her skirt, getting a glimpse and a feel of her nylons and silk, nothing but frail erotic stuff...And the way my hand was probing up her skirt, inching higher up her hose and feeling the garter straps having shifted about her spread legs, I wanted to push even further up but her panties were in my way.
And Olena used to act like she was a little girl victim, her lips pouting, her sighs deeper, her legs spreading, until she spasmed and pushed me off. It was like she hadn’t known someone might be watching, her face red and nervously looking about to catch an eye of an surprised observer. I think she’d was looking to show off more…
And of course I’d be left with a frustrating hard-on that had no sense of going down…until one day after she had orgasmed or cummed or whatever you call female spasming, and then sat looking around and lit a cigarette, blowing her smoke out but saw my dick was still hard and eager so she reached for it and started jerking me off as she sat there puffing on her cigarette and boringly looking at Jerry Lewis again made a fool of himself, probably me too!
It didn’t take long, the thrill, the emotion, the lust, the heat, the openness of sex all combined together to make me spurt out my jism in an explosion of madness and peace. I felt as if I was in heaven at that moment, like I had been blessed with being a son of God that had just ascended into his throne into Heaven…and all just from sexually cumming.
“Jesus!” I heard her flare-up. “Right in my hand!”
I had spurted out and the jism rose up her fingers and to her hand reaching up to her elbow…like beautiful pastilles draping along her tender sweet skin…but she was mad as all hell!
“Disgusting!” she said again. “That’s gross!” then she stormed off, I guess to the ladies room to wash her sticky hand off, but I didn’t care. Anyway, she didn’t come back; I waited, thought about her, then just shrugged and lit another cigarette. Hey, it wasn’t bad, I thought, about time she did it to me anyway.
Jerry Lewis appeared again and was funnier as I looked up, laughing at the movie…Ha Ha! What a laugh!...But Olena stayed away….
\
We were in the auditorium taking our seats to watch some religious film when Ihor saw that Marika had entered. If you looked at them carefully you would have seen that they both had turned very red.
Something was up?
Marika entered the row before Ihor so she wouldn’t sit near him.
Something was really up….
Ihor fumed as he watched her enter her row -- she didn’t even glance in his direction, but knowing their closeness it was impossible they were not aware of each other.
What would happen? we wondered…
Marika reached the seats before him…and Ihor was right there…bending over and reaching out to grab her ass. It was a nice firm handful, clutching her meaty buttocks like reaching out and feeling a piglet or a sow -- but this was
We expected a scream to burst out from her but there was just a momentary gush of surprise and in her red-faced silence which we never saw in the darkness…it was unclear what was happening.
Jesus was born up on the screen to quite a few boys stiff and dreaming of Marika…I rushed home after the movie and proceeded to masturbate….What else could I do?
Marika, Marika, Marika…I liked her too!
###
37. Poetry
In the 5th grade I won a prize, not only was my poem accepted by the teacher as the best in class but who then set it to a typewriter which was then plastered it on a wall so that everyone could see and read and admire.
God, how proud I was!
Of course, all the other boys taunted me that I was a sissy, ass kisser, a faggot, a jerking off whore and many other names everywhere I went that became immune to the curse words. And after a while I no longer cared of the taunting words. After all I was a poet whose poem hung on a wall in school, can't take that from me.
Screw them! I thought but I never again had another poem hanging up on a wall…at least I didn’t show anyone….
###
38. Kateryna Khyrva
39. Fat Sonia
Sonia was a fat girl whom everyone made fun off, how she dressed, how she walked, how she ran….
I don’t know how she got me hard but the possibility she could be the one made me gentler in my approach to her. I stopped laughing at her and actually began to be somewhat defensive when the guys started taunting her, which of course turned the laughter onto me.
“Hey Kolya”, they’d taunt, “your fat chubby girlfriend is looking for you!” as their smirking and hooting began to make me feel embarrassed and mad at them.
“Fuck you!” I’d spit out defensively to get away from their insults, which I’m certain Sonia was seeing too.
One day, after the usual name calling I was getting from my so-called friends, I turned the corner on Avenue A and there was Sonia standing in a doorway of a building looking at me. I knew it wasn’t her home -- she lived a few more blocks by the river -- and I turned red from seeing her.
“What’s your game, mister?” she said, frowning at me. “Why are you so nice?”
I suppose after all these weeks I answered, “I don’t know, I guess I like you.” And again I blushed and felt very uncomfortable.
Her glaring face lightened and she faintly smiled at me. And for a moment we liked each other. I smiled back…when I saw her eyes look over my head and again she frowned.
“Idiot jerk!” she spat out. “Get away from me! Stop following me!”
I heard laughter and spun around to see a few of my old friends laughing.
“Hey, Kolya, you like fatsos, don’t you?” they’d laugh. “Let’s see if she can lay down next to you? Hell, she can’t even stand up!”
But by then Sonia had stormed off as the laughter echoed after her. But I wonder if for a moment before they appeared Sonia wouldn’t take a chance and get friendly with me…aw, hell I’ll never know….
###
40. Hardup Janet
Janet was a pretty girl who had the ungainly name that could get her in trouble in those years:
Have you got a hardon? Not yet.
Are you gonna get one? You bet!
Who you gonna stick in? Janet.
How’s it gonna come out? All wet.
Sung by the whore house…Quartet…
We would laugh at her as we taunted her with that gibberish song; Janet would fume and curse and spit out, “Idiot! Idiot!”
I was in the 8th grade and lusting after every girl in school and out of it. Janet was in another school but this was NYC and even in a building where they lived kids went to school in
opposite directions. Sometimes I saw her come out of her building and head up
One morning after jerking off, I walked past her building a little earlier, thinking I’d get her because she was ripe for sticking it in, or so the song did say…I kind of was sure she was the one who had inspired the song…
I entered the lobby -- the building was still sleeping, stretching out as if getting ready to go to work. What to do now? I thought. She has to come down the stairs and there I’d be, looking up her dress with my dick out ready for her mouth to gulp it down. God! Was I hard just thinking about that moment…I pulled my dick out.
Then I heard footsteps, high heeled ones I was sure, maybe with just a toe hold on each little shoe. Oh God, I slowly pulled my dick out and held it before me ready for her to descend the stairs….
A guy appeared at the top of the stairs and I heard him say, “What the fuck?!”
I was out of that building, running down the street as I was zippering up and trying to hold my school bag with the other hand. In no time was I on another street and spent the rest of the school day real pissed at my rotten luck….
I saw Janet a few days after that, I turned red and lowered my head. I still feel like an idiot…even now…
###
41. Seeing Olena
I saw Olena today on Broadway. I was going to the pool hall on 23rd when I noticed her across the avenue.
Was this too far to approach her, I thought, or was I conditioned to play her game of not knowing who I was?
I shrugged and was about to cross the avenue when a guy standing by her said something and offered her a cigarette. I crouched with lowered head but kept my eye on them. The guy was doing most of the talking as he lit her cigarette -- but I saw she had turned red and was looking away from him…that could only mean one thing…
The light changed; I saw she was looking right in my direction. What would happen now?
I slowly began to cross the street, hesitant, afraid, when I saw her smiling at me. I breathed a sigh of relief; glad she knew me no matter that this wasn’t downtown anymore…
I came up to her; she leaned over, flicking away her newly lit cigarette, and let me kiss her cheek; she squeezed my hand. I saw the guy look at her, his lips tightening as he stared at the wasted cigarette, me for intruding but just keep walking across the avenue.
I was very happy that she recognized me. We were just a few blocks away from where her strange game would actually begin or had it actually begun? I didn't care, I breathed a sigh of relief…
###
42. Ukrainian Baby
She had just finished the 8th grade when word got out that she was pregnant.
Damn! Only 16! said the old timers.
But who could’ve done such a thing? they wondered, obviously, someone not of our nationality because our boys wouldn’t do such a thing…well, at least they’ll come out and take the responsibility…
Disgusting! said another.
But she grew bigger and bigger, her belly stretching out wider and wider.
Maybe it was Hryhory, said a third old timer, who continued, I have seen them together and they were whispering to each other…Must be something in that…Wait a minute…Marko, the sly one…he was always after her…Remember when they had that dance in school? Who did they take away because he was bothering the girls? Marko. Yessirree…It was him!
It’s disgusting! they all agreed.
Still she wouldn’t say who it was. Her mother promised that she’d find out and when she did it would be the end of him…Even had some Gypsy words to fling at him, mixed together with the Yiddish she cursed him with…
Disgusting, what little kids do to their parents nowadays! Just horrible!
She stayed in her room getting fatter by the day until she went to the hospital to give birth…unfortunately the baby was born but died prematurely…
She killed it! the old geezers said. I know she did! Poor, poor Ukrainian baby…
###
44. Nowhere to go, nothing to do…
Was a hot summer and the streets were too sweltering to just hang out on them.
Must have been 95 degrees or so when I turned off 23rd Street and went downstairs to the pool hall there; I had been there before, the guys never checked your age, and it was a nice place to get out of the heat.
I took a seat and watched a few players going around the tables, but it didn’t look like they were seriously playing, just workers from the various companies on their lunch breaks.
I had been there maybe a half hour or so when a pool player nodded at me.
“Looking for any action, kid?” he said, chalking up his cue.
I shrugged. “Maybe,” I said, not getting up, since I didn’t want him to think I was an easy mark.
“Rack ‘em up, kid,” he said. “Let’s play a game.” And again he chalked up his cue. “25 cents a game, alright?”
I got up from my chair. “Nah,” I said. “Ain’t interested,” and headed to the door and stairs.
“Stupid kid,” I heard say behind me.
Wow! 99 degrees! I read in the corner drugstore thermostat. Wish I had somewhere to go…something to do…
I just walked…and sweated…
###
46. 8th Grade
8th grade was the best! All the girl students had little breasts pushing out of their jumpers and the boys had bumps bulging in their pants that caused a few mishaps as the school year went by, like bumping into them and not so accidentally.
But Orest did it openly and wasn’t afraid of what the teachers thought or said. He kept his arms poised chest high as a girl approached and would reach out to get a full feel as she nervously approached him.
“They do it on purpose,” he smirked one day, after some flustered girl hurried away from getting felt up. “I just give them what they want.”
I wondered about that as I jerked off at home. I had seen that before, big breasted girls parading by Orest as he’d stand there and just reach out and have himself a nice handful. Was it so easy? It sure seemed like it…
I had my secret eyes on Lyudmyla that year, who seemed bigger then the others -- I was sure she had worn a uniform that was hers two years ago, too tight and much too short, showing off her encumbered held-in breasts with the tops of her nylons peeking out from under her too-short dress. I was hot even before I saw her each school day...What was the point of learning boring geography when there was available sex everywhere you turned?
Orest had just felt up Kathia who turned red and called him a jerk as she ran off down the hall. I wasn’t too interested in Orest’s reactions because rounding the corner was Lyudmyla. I instantly grew much harder than I was from seeing Orest get a feel. My mouth drooped open as my breathing became low and shallow, almost nonexistent.
Orest had his feel, yawned, and moved down the hall but I stood awaiting Lyudmyla…She trod heavily, clomping her heels on the tiled floor, clomp, clomp, clomp . . . I stood up and stared at her bosom. She glared at me and spat out, “What’s your problem?”
I simply reached out and touched a breast. For a moment I felt the warmth and beauty emanating from her and I imagined she had increased the size of her fulsome titty.
She blurted out, "You pervert!" She turned and hit me on the face. "You're sick, I swear!"
Later that day in class I was scared she would tell the Sister Emilia what I just did but she was silent. Sister Emilia said nothing about my puffed face… I saw Orest yawning again…After school I hurried home, holding my face, and jerked off…At least that felt good…
###
47. Changes (1)
Near the end of the school year Olena began to be a bit tense and nervous, but over what she wouldn’t say…One time I walked her down
“Why don’t we meet somewhere else,” she said, biting her lower lip. “Somewhere closer, you know.” She sucked on her half-smoked cigarette, threw it away, looked at me, and lit another one.
Many times I had wandered back and forth along
“Why can’t we meet somewhere there?” I had suggested in the past. “Like in the park?”
She looked at me with some disappointment.
“That’s not part of the game we’re playing.” And she looked hopefully at me.
Over time I agreed to be her patsy, with what ever she had in mind for me.
That first time was easy, she seemed to be right there when I came walking by in the Village. The next time I had to walk a block out of the way but I saw her under a movie marquee about to go into the
“Sure,” I said. “We can meet on the corner, in front of Mindy’s.”
But she looked at me with some frustration and anger, her lips clenching tightly; I thought she meant the corner where everyone who goes to school gathers and hangs out.
“I don’t mean there,” she finally said. “Somewhere nearby, you know…” Again she bit her lip and looked nervously at me.
“You tell me where,” I said, hoping she didn’t mean further uptown.
She studied my face again, and said, “You know the park by the river?” and she flicked her cigarette in a puddle of water. “On
I nodded. “Yeah, sure, let’s meet there.” I felt myself growing hard as she leaned over and kissed my cheek, strangely looking very perturbed and bothered.
“But what time?” I called after her.
She turned around, lit a cigarette, and loudly answered, “Same as last time.” And she trailed off as I watched after her….
Now what the fuck did that mean? I thought, again pissed and staggering home. What fucken time?
###
48. Changes-2
On the day I was supposed to meet Olena at her new meeting place along the river I did not show up. I was on upper Broadway, in
Back in school on Monday, a glaring Olena was very distant and uncommunicative, wouldn’t even look at me.
Big deal, I thought. Screw the bitch!
But after school she stormed her way to
“I was right there at
“You lost it, buddy! Now beat it!”
The light changed and she stormed over to the other side of
“Oh, screw this shit!” I said aloud then turned and went home…At least the memory of old time peep shows in Times Square still lingered…I couldn’t wait to get home and jerk off…make up my own peep shows in my head…or imagine the real Times Square…Oh, screw Olena!
###
49. Graduation
Finally it was over. You could breathe a sigh of relief that it was finished…forever!
We had just participated in the final task of graduation that would be required of us and were quickly unbuttoning the robes to get the hell out of there, when Sister Theodosia strode into the room. The boys all fell quiet. I also froze; I had just spat out a curse word and lowered my head as I unbuttoned a stubborn button of my graduation uniform.
I heard her footsteps come across the room and stop before me. I was sure she was going to berate me a final time when I saw her fingers brace the button and ease it off. My robe was free…Wow, she had helped me! Never did that before…
I looked at her; she was red-faced and tearful. Something was coming to an end…
Many years later I would think of the books I was still to read, of Brothers Karamazov where Ivan is kissed by the Elder Zosimov. Sister Theodosia stooped down and kissed my cheek. She said nothing but looked at me as if she was going to say something…Then she turned and walked away and out of my lives…forever.
Many of the guys looked at me but they also said not a word and a few shrugged at each other.
Gratefully grade school was over…and Ukrainian days were finished for good…or so I thought…
###
50.The Finish
A few months after we graduated from school I heard that Olena was expecting. This was in Mindy's diner and I thought I’d be smart and said, “Expecting what?”
“Listen to this,” the guys laughed. “He don’t know what expecting is!”
After the usual ribbing and taunts they settled down.
“I wouldn’t like to get one of these girls from school,” said one guy, shaking his head. “More experience is better.”
“Yeah,” said another. “Get one who knows where to get a secretary job and hold it!”
They’d laugh and again they started ribbing and jesting. I’d had enough. “Gotta go,” I said and walked away from their hooting and smart laughter.
I was going to go home but I kept on walking and thinking. Boy, I knew Olena’s kid wasn’t mine, I was still a virgin, but did I want it to be mine?
The lights went by one after the other and I was in the Village, near the
Ukrainian days were definitely over…
###
51. Fartso
###
52. A Final Time
On a nice summer’s day I was heading up to meet Octavia, a Spanish girl and my somewhat-new girlfriend, who was taking courses at
On
I could see at my vantage point how short her skirt was, barely thigh high, and I was sure if I was seeing it from the front I’d glimpse her panty, if she was wearing any. I adored the short skirted fashions nowadays, they re-woke the thrill of being young and alive, something the old weren’t doing.
I walked on, smiling to myself, thinking I’d turn around and see some pretty erotic sight as I passed her by…Oh, my God, it was Olena, wow! Olena! from school whom I haven’t seen her in a number of years.
Wow! She was still smoking a cigarette and looking bored at the kids around her. A puff of smoke came from her lips and she faintly recognized me…and her eyes were calling my name…if she remembered it. For a moment I wanted to rush to her, ask her how she has been after all the years between us but I just shrugged, shook my head, turned around and kept walking to meet Octavia…
Ukrainian school was definitely over….Thank God! And hurried off to meet my Spanish Octavia…
The End
