The Wiggly Tooth [1958] It was a matter of extraction, I was eleven-years old, and my tooth wiggled, and wiggled, and wiggled too much, too long, and it had to come out one way or another. Even at eleven I knew this, but barely. I was at my mother's boyfriend's house, Ernie, as we (my brother and I) got used to calling him, adding the Uncle on it, making it: Uncle Ernie, hence, that was the long version. Ernie and my mother had been watching T.V., she normally went there about 6:00 PM, to about 9:00 PM each night: she left at 9:00 to 9:30 PM, usually: the reason being, she could get back home in time (for we simply lived next door, kind of, an empty lot between the two houses, his and my grandfather's that is, where us boy's and my mother lived with my grandpa): anyhow, she'd get home before 10:00 pm, so she could call us boys (Mike, my brother, and myself) back into the house (as we'd be someplace in the neighborhood, but we always heard her voice calling), to get ready for bed at 10:00 PM. This evening"the time must have been somewhere between 7:00 PM to 8:30 PM, when the issue came up"this evening I happened to be at Ernie's house (it was summer, and I was on summer vacation from school), complaining to my mother about my loose wiggle tooth. As I complained, and she listened, turned from the T.V., set, both her and Ernie were watching, I think 'Gunsmoke,' or perhaps it was 'The Red Skeleton,' for some odd reason those two shows come to mind: Ernie said, after putting his popcorn down (they often made it while watching T.V.: "Tie your tooth to a string, and put the other end of the string around the doorknob, then slam the door quickly, that will save you a lot of time thinking about your tooth, and you will not have to go to the dentist!" So said Ernie, in a quick, almost unemotional way, as if it was like plucking a weed. I looked at him strangely; my eyebrows perhaps hit the top of my forehead, "Doorknob," I said. "Yes, doorknob, and I'll get you the string." He got up and put the string around the doorknob, I looked at my mother, she didn't say a word; I then looked at Ernie, "Really!" I said, baffled. "That's how we did it when we were kids," Ernie said, as simple and plain as the night was dark: strangely dark. I think I started to laugh, not out of it being funny, but out of not knowing what else to do, for now the string was hanging on the doorknob, the T.V. was playing, my mother was eating popcorn, and I was staring at the doorknob and back at Ernie, and back and forth my eyes went. I had learned something about myself I suppose, perhaps it was then, or earlier, I can't remember exactly, that being: I didn't want to play games, but wanted to get down to business and on with life, and so daringly, I took that string, as Ernie helped me to tie it around my tooth, yes indeed I did, we tied it right around that tooth, quickly so I'd not change my mind. I had never heard of such a thing, but I had not heard of many things, at eleven-years old who has, and I suppose we trust our adults do we not: to a certain degree anyways, or at least I did back then, back in 1958, when I lived on Cayuga Street, in St. Paul, Minnesota. It was all facially confirmed, I mean, my mother's face said: go ahead, or so I read it as that. Ernie's face said: what you waiting for; and if I had had a mirror my face would have read: do it or don't, but don't think about it for eternity. So Ernie and I tied the string around my wiggle tooth, and he stepped back for the big bang, and I opened the door that opened outward, towards me, and I slammed it, and the door shut with my eyes closed. When I opened my eyes the string was dangling, I figured it had slipped off, that is, it slipped over my tooth off of it, and I'd have to try it again, do it over, but as I went to fetch the string, there was my tooth, to my amazement. I put my finger into my mouth, and discovered the tooth was no longer there of course, rather a little hole, and empty space between other teeth. I now had the tooth in my hand and asked my mother: "Can I have a dollar for my tooth, I still believe in the tooth fairy..." it was a rhetorical question of course (I didn't believe, but I was at that age where I was a ting daring), and she looked at me with an upper lip, and said, "I believe you can, " with a slur, and pulled out three quarters, saying, "it's all the change I got, I'll have to owe you a quarter." And that was that. Note: When I woke up this morning, I had a dream, it was not about my tooth, but a tooth on the left side of my mouth was hurting"nonetheless; and so as I wiggled about, trying to get into a better resting position, half asleep, this occurred to me, the wiggly tooth, that took place back in 1958, the story of my tooth being extracted by way of a doorknob. It is true, what one man said long ago: it is the accumulation of little things in life that make life worth living and remembering, for there are only a few big ones in between; thus, life is made up of little things; something like that he said, and how true it can be. 4/16/2006 |
