Lessons

There was absolutely no logic to this - I found myself in a room full of strangers who looked like me in a uniform sort of way: Boy, 5 years old, white shirt, brown shorts, white socks, black shoes - and we all had the sort of turtle-shell crew cut hair that mosquito nets never willingly let go of.

There was a lady up front giving orders: sit down, stand up, attention, sit down, stand up, attention…

I finally got it after a few rounds of being laughed at. You’re late said the lady. I’d never been called late before so I didn’t know what she meant.

Then, in her giving-orders voice, she said Parade Rest!

At last, I thought. Two words I know. I know Parade, and I know Rest - but this is the first time I am hearing those words together. The picture that forms in my mind is that of a colorfully-clad crowd of drummers and horn blowers and girls with sticks and boots - the Parade - resting outside. I did what any sane boy would do. I rushed to the window side of the room to enjoy the spectacle… but there was only a parking lot with a few cars. No parade, resting. You lied, I thought.

Go back to your seat! Ordered the lady, and everyone was looking at me, lots of giggles. Attention! She ordered. Aten (pause) shon and everyone stood up straight.

March time, march. Left, Left, left right left… I got it after a few stumbling seconds…. Ready, halt! The sound of my shoe hitting the floor after everyone had stomped to a stop was … funny, I guess, and, of course, there was more giggling.

Ok, sit down, said the lady and I sat. An eternity passed and I needed to make wee-wee but the toilet didn’t seem to be part of this reality. How was I to get to the bathroom? Do I just get up and ask or just find it somewhere outside? Do I just squirm in place and burst as silently as possible? While weighing options, I peed in my seat. The color of my pants changed gradually. The smell gently bloomed. The heat spread out and I felt almost comfortable.

Aten-shon! The lady suddenly shouted. We all scrambled to our feet. March time, march…

As we marched the boy to my right pointed to the puddle under my seat. Hey, is that yours?

I shook my head vehemently, No! That seemed to satisfy him and we went on marching until a bell suddenly rang and the lady gave us orders about how to exit the room. Someone guided me onto a bus and I sat there in my now- clammy pants, knowing that when I got off, my seat would be moist with pee… but all I had to do to avoid embarrassment was to deny that it was mine.