Jackson's Park

Chapter 1

Tom!
No answer.
How can I even think of adding Samuels starting line to this story?
You know it's out of admiration that it was even a consideration and that being said I will have to continue in my recollection.
Jackson's park is a delightful place to travel to by foot and as a boy, I have memories of the nuns shelter and other really neat places to hide a pack of viceroys or even a twenty five cent Vue magazine stolen from Sandy's cigar shop on the corner where the music teacher Mrs. Johnston gave her Saturday morning best in listening to the rehearsed agenda.
She seemed to always wear lipstick and maybe that's why I had the idea to steal the girlie book. It wasn't for lack of the two bits but the embarrassment of having to pay at the counter where only the older boys would dare buy their smokes and a quarter inch picture book that sure had the lookers on the cover.
I couldn't wait to get to Jackson's park where I knew I would gaze for all my worth and then tuck the book high up under the rafters of the nuns shelter.
I was ten years young then. It was my grade six year at Queen Mary public school. Oh to be that age again.
I'd been smoking Viceroys since grade four when Bob Hetherington and his cousin Bill forced me to puff with them between the cedar hedge and their wooden garage. They were both afraid I'd tell on them if I didn't share in their pleasures.
I was hooked.

Bill was in my class and he had the greatest pair of Wellington boots with pony clips on the bottom. He always made such a noise walking down the aisle to the chalk board in Mrs. Park's class. She was a special teacher and lived near my grandma and grandpa Moore's home. I was lucky to have her. I only went to third grade for three months and then they said I already knew the work so advanced me early to a new school and a new grade. It was a further walk to Queen Elizabeth public school from Parkhill that only had three grades and four classrooms.