In the Summer of '53 (A Minnesota, Chick Evens Story)

I had left the babysitter, knowing my mothertight, sometimes too tight, she'd have to say,
would be at 4:15 p.m., hiking up Mount airy Hill,"You're squeezing my hand again," and I'd stop, let
from the Valley playgrounds, near Jackson Street,go a tinge, but not much. And she'd hold my hand
she did every weekday after work, Mondayfirmly but softly, and I'd put the stem in my
through Friday (she worked at the stockyards inmouth, like her: like to like.
the slice bacon department, at Swifts Meats, in"Mom?" I'd say.
South Saint Paul), she'd catch the bus from South"Yes."
St. Paul, to St. Paul, get off at the corner of"You're home!"
Jackson and Mount airy, and then up one hill she'd"Not quite yet."
hike, a turn to the left, and up the second hill. We"Missed yaw!" I'd say, searching for something to
had been living all together, my brother, twotalk about, not really caring to talk at all to be
years older than I, eight now, my mother and myhonest, something more practical would do, but
grandfather. Mike, my brother and I, had beenthat is what always came out: I was happy as a
taken off that foster-farm for good: I neverbutterfly with new wings, almost prancing up the
wanted to go back there again, I never wantedhill now. As if I wanted the world see me and my
to see it ever, so I had to make sure she wasmother, proud so very proud.
really coming. Therefore I left our sixteen-year old"Where's your brother?" she asked.
babysitter, Evelyn, and ran up the block to meet"With the babysitter, he thinks she's cute; she's
her; I did this quite often, that first summer afterreally nice, and plays with us, maybe you can give
we left the farm, back in '53.her a tip on payday!"
She'd be trekking up that hill, a little tired, a little"Oh does he now... (she hesitates, and smiles, then
worn, if not with a cigarette between her fingers,continues and says :) she is kind of cute I
or between her lips, a twig, or piece of grasssuppose."
would be there. Her purse would be on her rightWe continued to walk up the hill together her right
shoulder, she had long straps, and big purses, kepthand in my left hand, both with our pieces of
everything under the sun in them. I once wentstems in our mouths. The sun going down over
with her purse shopping at the Emporium, one ofthe edge of the city, but it's still bright out, just a
the three biggest stores in St. Paul back then, andlittle on the faded side, slightly faded side of the
she bought the best and biggest purse she couldday, so it got at this time, near the Mississippi. I
find and carry, it had to be leather, good leather.guess I followed her like a puppy. I felt safe in her
Other than that, she was frugal. Once I'd see herhands, that summer, with those sharp warm
I'd pick up a twig or piece of grass run down theevenings starting to settle in, in those midsummer
hill to meet her coming up the hill, and we'd meetdays in Minnesota. I felt quite sure, she'd never
somewhere in the middle. I'd grab her hand, hold itdie.