Only God would know the reasons, but I bet he must have had a plan. -Born to be your baby, Child, Bon Jovi and Sambora
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George tells me he became friends with Punch in third grade. Personally, I cannot ever remember a time when Punch was not George's best bud. Erehwon Texas just wasn't so big that George and Punch didn't meet for four years. Named for George 'Punch' Imlach, Hall of Fame coach and General Manager of the Saints, Leafs and Sabres. Punches father was one of the most educated men in town, and one of its few professionals. Practicing medicine at the Erehwon County Hospital, while his mother organized for all noble causes, and for all things the county should, but did not have. Punch should have been in a social circle a step or two above ours. His brothers were, and therin lies the rub.
Punch and George were inseparable growing up, they played the same sports together. Took the same classes, sat out the same hours together in detention for their antics in those classes. They were both accepted to the U of T and should have gone to Austin together, perhaps been roomies. But where would that have left Lillian, Jamie, Kristin, Eva and I. God had eight little souls for us to bring into this world. So, two Mays before I donned a rented cap and gown, George and Punch made that same walk. They had what would have been a final summer palling around enjoying that crazy summer of '76, and went their separate ways in the dog days of August. George, although possessing a letter of acceptance to Austin, was given a job taking care of three resentful and unappreciative children. Punch went to Austin alone.
By Christmas, at least one of those children was no longer resentful, but Punch was. Punch was back in Erehwon to stay. His oldest brother was ok, I guess. Being six years older than I, we just did not interact. It was the families middle son who was the bane of Punch's existence. Constantly creating unnecessary drama, usually right on top of somebody else's twenty minutes of fame. So, during Punch's first semester in Austin, his brother created a shitstorm, and got himself unceremoniously kicked out. It sucks when your father is a big-time hockey fan and thinks that your fuck-up of a brother is the star goalie. You end up sitting out his penalty minutes.
He hung out with George when George was not going to school or working at the Farm Supply. Very often sleeping on our sofa, because he did not want to go home. Did not feel like explaining anything, anything at all to the imbecile with an IQ of 160 or so. Why he did not sign up for the one class at the junior college that he had not taken in Austin and would transfer. Why he did not feel like 'checking out and maybe applying to' Tech, which he had not applied to before, but that his asshole brother would be finishing his degree at. Why he would rather get drunk and puke in our yard and sleep on our sofa than explain why he felt so resentful. How unprincipled his father's so-called 'principled stance' was. That he would not pay the U of T, where Punch had fifteen credits and a 4.0, another dime because they expelled someone who knew what he did was wrong, and yet ran around town bragging about doing it.
Eva, it was Eva that saved Punch. It seemed like Eva and her little sisters were always at our house. Her parents encouraged them. The Pastor and his wife thought that we were 'good wholesome people'. At the time we laughed, we thought we had them hoodwinked. But the truth was that we were, and we are. We care about each other, and look out for each other. We have been together for over forty years. Eva knew about resentment. Eva knew about drowning your emotions in alcohol. She understood self destructive behavior, and had herself just come out of her wild-child period. She was running the youth program at the Pastor's, her father's, church.
Together we all went to Eva's graduation in May. We sat with my friend the Pastor and his wife. Then we celebrated. That day was to my mind the beginning of 'us'. All of 'us' were there. Even Kristin who would join 'us'. She walked with Eva. For a reason known but to God, we have pictures of Kristin receiving her rolled pieces of construction paper that stood in for the real thing. By the summer that followed we were six friends hanging, just hanging out, enjoying each other's company. Often on the wood deck that George and Punch built around our above ground pool behind the garage. Kristin was not with us that summer, but she would be for the next summer and all the days that followed.
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