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Walking Into Manhood
I had awoken to a distinct cry of my name, only my mother could recreate. So I ran downstairs in a hurry buttoning the top of my pajamas while stumbling into the living room in pursuit of the sound. My mother, a stout rounded woman with high cheek bones, curly hair; and a smile that was always there even when she appeared upset, hung her dry coat by the door and began to wave frantically at my direction with an open letter in her hands. It turned out I had been accepted into the Marist Brothers Academy Manchester City, the only Catholic Boarding School located in England.
The news had come with mixed blessings for me, and perhaps nobody would have fully understood my predicament as D-Day drew nearer, than my elder brother Eric, whom was already off to school, by now. Although the thought of staying nine months away from home in a year was dreadful enough to think about, I went along with my parents, sharing on my success; happy to know that there was a school out there that found me brilliant enough to be welcomed into. My little brother George began to envy me like a servant to his master and my little sister volunteered her daily meaty rations to me every time my mother’s attention was successfully distracted from our dinner.
I began to slowly assert the little freedom my parents were inclined to grant me. I would no longer have to be home at 5p.m each day, having been granted an extra hour to stay outdoors with my local friends, whom were also, now beginning to envy me. Almost every parent on my street had heard the news before my attempt at a public announcement message, courtesy of my tireless mother, and the news had enriched me with lots of pound cakes, biscuits, candies and crackers at almost every shop and house I cared to stop in while patrolling the neighborhood stores with friends. Even Felicia’s mother had paid a courtesy call to our house, with Felicia sitting quietly by our coffee table sneaking a glimpse at me every time my eyes looked away from hers.
My mother had made a list of all the necessary provisions I would need for school, and although I had disliked shopping with her prior to then, I found myself quite thrilled at the prospects of doing so this time. My little brother and sister were granted the honor of accompany my mother and I to the stores to shop the list. Upon discovering and witnessing the many possessions I had acquired, they couldn’t wait to know if the same list would be used for them on their ninth birthday, when it was their time to go to a boarding house, or whichever came first?
I was now certain, that I was the richest person I ever knew besides from my parents, and I couldn’t wait to start packing. I spent the remaining three days in my room [next page]