This is a short story about a friend of Coldham Fintan Noose III. Hope you like this one too.
"You are a girl!" "Cry baby!" Another kid shouted. Marion Sweeney Hall's lower lip quivered and his eyes welled up in anger. He wasn't a girl, just because he had that stupid name! His mother had been a film and musical buff and had chosen Marion for Marion Morrison, the actor John Wayne's real name, and Sweeney for Sweeney Todd, the main character of a musical.
Marion didn't accept being teased, so he pushed the girl, who had called him a cry baby. Soon they were fighting and rolling on the ground. Their classmates were supporting them by shouting: "Fight, fight!" The cries of encouragement and the fight stopped soon, when a teacher separated Marion and the girl. They were brought to the principal, who was displeased with the behavior of both. She lectured and suspended them. She also informed the legal guardians of the children. In Marion's case it was his grandmother Clyde B. C. Dahl. He called her Momma.
Marion felt sick. Momma was going to be so disappointed in him. Momma was tall, thin with black hair and cinnamon colored skin. She moved very graciously. Sometimes Marion thought she was a queen. Momma was his maternal grandmother.
Carita Dahl, Clyde's daughter, and Michael Hall were high school sweethearts and had been going steady for years. When she was twenty she got pregnant. Michael decided to do the right thing. They married before the baby bump showed. Michael and Carita hadn't lived together before. They realized soon their lifestyles were different and the pregnancy turned out to be a difficult one. Michael couldn't take the situation and left for good, leaving Carita to deal with it alone. Carita was glad her mother supported her. The experience made her bitter and when the chance came to move to Chicago for a better job, she was more than willing to forget she had a son.
Marion didn't remember much about his mother. She left him when he was a bit over two. Since then it had been only Momma and him. Momma took her responsibility to raise Marion serious. She made sure he knew how to behave and that he was able to go to a better school in downtown Phoenix. They weren't poor, but they weren't wealthy either. Momma and Marion lived in Sunnyside. It wasn't the best area to live in.
Momma wasn't too pleased she had to leave work and deal with her errant six year old grandson. Unlike others she didn't believe in walloping. It would be double standard and teach Marion the wrong lesson. Fighting violence with violence didn't make sense.
The issue had to be dealt with, though.
Momma had a quick chat with the principal and took Marion home. They had been quiet on the bus journey, each one hanging after their own thoughts.
"Why don't you change into something more comfortable?" Momma suggested, not unpleasant. She bustled in the kitchen, making Brazilian Lemonade - normally it was a Sunday treat. Momma thought it was a good idea to have a more relaxed atmosphere when talking with Marion about the incident at school. It would be difficult enough getting him talk.
When Marion returned, Momma invited him to take a seat at the kitchen table. "So, tell me what happened." Marion looked at her with big brown eyes, but didn't say anything. Momma filled the glasses with the lemonade. She thought she had given him enough time to answer. "Marion Sweeney, if you don't tell me what happened I have to believe what Mrs. Senter is telling me. If that's the case I would be very disappointed, because there wouldn't have been any reason for you attacking that girl." Marion looked down and mumbled: "You are going to be disappointed any way." "We will see." Encouraged by Momma's gentleness, he described what had happened, finishing with: "I'm sorry." "Oh, Marion! I can understand that the other kids hurt you and made you angry. I don't appreciate, though, that you choose to solve your issue with your fists. That's never good. What does our Lord, Jesus, say?" Momma didn't get an answer. She sighed. "Matthew 5:39 and Luke 6:27-6:29. Go, get the bible if you don't know and we read the verses together." Marion didn't give a lot what Jesus preached in his situation. Jesus was perfect anyways, while he was a little boy. Marion refused to cooperate and stared at the table. "Marion?" Momma could be very stern. Momma changed her tune, when Marion still didn't comply. "What's the matter with you, boy?! Have you swallowed your tongue?" Momma's voice was suddenly sharp. Marion shook his head. "Then answer me or get the book." Marion stood up and trudged to his grandmother's bedroom. The bible was lying on the bed stand. It was leather bound, old and well used. Momma studied it every night.
Marion returned. Momma motioned him to take a seat beside her. She had no problems finding the location of the text she was looking for. "Read that to me, please." The Gospel of Matthew was first. The language of the King James' Version was difficult, and it took Marion a few attempts to have it correct. He read: "But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." Luke was a bit longer. "But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you,
Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.
And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also."
Momma explained to him what this all meant. Marion didn't agree. He and his grandmother had a heated argument about behavior. Since Momma was more powerful, Marion had to give in. He didn't know what he hated more: Apologizing to the girl he had fought with, having to spend the time he had been suspended with Mrs. Zorbas, a disliked neighbor (Her home reeked of cat urine and she was really old.), or to copy the verses they just had read and discussed 250 times in his nicest hand writing.
Momma had to go to work, but couldn't leave Marion alone at home, so she asked Mrs. Zorbas to look after Marion. She didn't like being indebted to Mrs. Zorbas.
The lines were punishment for loosing his temper and forgetting about "Christian" behavior as Momma liked to call it.
Marion knew this wasn't all, because Momma always punished him for causing trouble in school as well.
To his dismay Marion had to go to bed an hour earlier than usual for a whole month. He thought it was too hard and unfair, but kept quiet, because if he protested too much, Momma would extend the punishment and Marion wanted to avoid that at all costs.
Momma decided something else to make life a bit easier for Marion. "I want to discuss something else with you. Since you don't like your name, you can choose a nickname." Marion was unsure. "You can take your time, darling. When you have chosen, let me know."
For a while Marion called himself Mario, but since he didn't have any resemblance to what the Italian name implied, he dropped it. Marion was African American, very dark skinned and small for his age. Even as an adult Marion was smaller than most.
Sweeney was the next choice, but Marion wasn't happy with that either. It was still too feminine in his opinion.
As a teenager he found the final and perfect nick name. Marion was unobtrusive and blended into a crowd without getting noticed. Being unremarkable and inconspicuous had its advantages. Marion associated the color grey with those characteristics and took a philosophical look at life, having learned that the world was not black and white. There were many grey zones and that was how he chose his name. Whenever he introduced himself, he was Grey Hall.
"You are a girl!" "Cry baby!" Another kid shouted. Marion Sweeney Hall's lower lip quivered and his eyes welled up in anger. He wasn't a girl, just because he had that stupid name! His mother had been a film and musical buff and had chosen Marion for Marion Morrison, the actor John Wayne's real name, and Sweeney for Sweeney Todd, the main character of a musical.
Marion didn't accept being teased, so he pushed the girl, who had called him a cry baby. Soon they were fighting and rolling on the ground. Their classmates were supporting them by shouting: "Fight, fight!" The cries of encouragement and the fight stopped soon, when a teacher separated Marion and the girl. They were brought to the principal, who was displeased with the behavior of both. She lectured and suspended them. She also informed the legal guardians of the children. In Marion's case it was his grandmother Clyde B. C. Dahl. He called her Momma.
Marion felt sick. Momma was going to be so disappointed in him. Momma was tall, thin with black hair and cinnamon colored skin. She moved very graciously. Sometimes Marion thought she was a queen. Momma was his maternal grandmother.
Carita Dahl, Clyde's daughter, and Michael Hall were high school sweethearts and had been going steady for years. When she was twenty she got pregnant. Michael decided to do the right thing. They married before the baby bump showed. Michael and Carita hadn't lived together before. They realized soon their lifestyles were different and the pregnancy turned out to be a difficult one. Michael couldn't take the situation and left for good, leaving Carita to deal with it alone. Carita was glad her mother supported her. The experience made her bitter and when the chance came to move to Chicago for a better job, she was more than willing to forget she had a son.
Marion didn't remember much about his mother. She left him when he was a bit over two. Since then it had been only Momma and him. Momma took her responsibility to raise Marion serious. She made sure he knew how to behave and that he was able to go to a better school in downtown Phoenix. They weren't poor, but they weren't wealthy either. Momma and Marion lived in Sunnyside. It wasn't the best area to live in.
Momma wasn't too pleased she had to leave work and deal with her errant six year old grandson. Unlike others she didn't believe in walloping. It would be double standard and teach Marion the wrong lesson. Fighting violence with violence didn't make sense.
The issue had to be dealt with, though.
Momma had a quick chat with the principal and took Marion home. They had been quiet on the bus journey, each one hanging after their own thoughts.
"Why don't you change into something more comfortable?" Momma suggested, not unpleasant. She bustled in the kitchen, making Brazilian Lemonade - normally it was a Sunday treat. Momma thought it was a good idea to have a more relaxed atmosphere when talking with Marion about the incident at school. It would be difficult enough getting him talk.
When Marion returned, Momma invited him to take a seat at the kitchen table. "So, tell me what happened." Marion looked at her with big brown eyes, but didn't say anything. Momma filled the glasses with the lemonade. She thought she had given him enough time to answer. "Marion Sweeney, if you don't tell me what happened I have to believe what Mrs. Senter is telling me. If that's the case I would be very disappointed, because there wouldn't have been any reason for you attacking that girl." Marion looked down and mumbled: "You are going to be disappointed any way." "We will see." Encouraged by Momma's gentleness, he described what had happened, finishing with: "I'm sorry." "Oh, Marion! I can understand that the other kids hurt you and made you angry. I don't appreciate, though, that you choose to solve your issue with your fists. That's never good. What does our Lord, Jesus, say?" Momma didn't get an answer. She sighed. "Matthew 5:39 and Luke 6:27-6:29. Go, get the bible if you don't know and we read the verses together." Marion didn't give a lot what Jesus preached in his situation. Jesus was perfect anyways, while he was a little boy. Marion refused to cooperate and stared at the table. "Marion?" Momma could be very stern. Momma changed her tune, when Marion still didn't comply. "What's the matter with you, boy?! Have you swallowed your tongue?" Momma's voice was suddenly sharp. Marion shook his head. "Then answer me or get the book." Marion stood up and trudged to his grandmother's bedroom. The bible was lying on the bed stand. It was leather bound, old and well used. Momma studied it every night.
Marion returned. Momma motioned him to take a seat beside her. She had no problems finding the location of the text she was looking for. "Read that to me, please." The Gospel of Matthew was first. The language of the King James' Version was difficult, and it took Marion a few attempts to have it correct. He read: "But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." Luke was a bit longer. "But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you,
Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.
And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also."
Momma explained to him what this all meant. Marion didn't agree. He and his grandmother had a heated argument about behavior. Since Momma was more powerful, Marion had to give in. He didn't know what he hated more: Apologizing to the girl he had fought with, having to spend the time he had been suspended with Mrs. Zorbas, a disliked neighbor (Her home reeked of cat urine and she was really old.), or to copy the verses they just had read and discussed 250 times in his nicest hand writing.
Momma had to go to work, but couldn't leave Marion alone at home, so she asked Mrs. Zorbas to look after Marion. She didn't like being indebted to Mrs. Zorbas.
The lines were punishment for loosing his temper and forgetting about "Christian" behavior as Momma liked to call it.
Marion knew this wasn't all, because Momma always punished him for causing trouble in school as well.
To his dismay Marion had to go to bed an hour earlier than usual for a whole month. He thought it was too hard and unfair, but kept quiet, because if he protested too much, Momma would extend the punishment and Marion wanted to avoid that at all costs.
Momma decided something else to make life a bit easier for Marion. "I want to discuss something else with you. Since you don't like your name, you can choose a nickname." Marion was unsure. "You can take your time, darling. When you have chosen, let me know."
For a while Marion called himself Mario, but since he didn't have any resemblance to what the Italian name implied, he dropped it. Marion was African American, very dark skinned and small for his age. Even as an adult Marion was smaller than most.
Sweeney was the next choice, but Marion wasn't happy with that either. It was still too feminine in his opinion.
As a teenager he found the final and perfect nick name. Marion was unobtrusive and blended into a crowd without getting noticed. Being unremarkable and inconspicuous had its advantages. Marion associated the color grey with those characteristics and took a philosophical look at life, having learned that the world was not black and white. There were many grey zones and that was how he chose his name. Whenever he introduced himself, he was Grey Hall.
©2013
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