by Fred Nicholson | Jul 7, 2019 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
The child in meis still methis many years later. That un-trusting frightened onestill hovers in the background,popping up when he whiffs fear. The first to test the waters.Is that a porpoise or a crocodile waiting just beneath the surface? An inner cast of...
by Fred Nicholson | Dec 16, 2018 | Kids and Grown Ups, Love is the Answer, Stories
In a written piece from December 10th, ‘Let’s talk about Vietnam’, I wrote, ‘I was raised with hatred for Jews and even the word repulsed me’. A friend asked, “How long did it take to transform that hatred?” I really...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 31, 2018 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
In the beginning, terrifying darkness reigned and found easy entry into me. My angels jumped to and battened down the hatches. Invisible rays, body/mind closures and blanking*, kept me relatively safe and sound, in those early years. *Blanking: When I felt threatened...
by Fred Nicholson | Jan 17, 2015 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
Secrets A child in thought is how I most remember myself. A child talking little, thinking a lot, afraid a lot. Loving peace and quiet, hating when he comes home sick. Not understanding her when she rattles on in a language that seems to be English but somehow isn’t....
by Fred Nicholson | Jan 1, 2015 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
It’s a winter’s night in our 13th floor bedroom. Both windows are wide open. The room smells like urine. We shiver from the cold. One cot mattress is wet and leans against the wall, so it will dry quicker. Both sides have been eaten through by too many accidents. We...
by Fred Nicholson | Apr 21, 2014 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
He bangs on her head with the frying pan. I told you BONG to meet me BONG at nine o’clock not nine fifteen. BONG BONG I had to pay that fuckin’ cabbie SLAP extra BONG SLAP because you SLAP BONG “I’m sorry . . .” PUNCH don’t wanna’ listen. Now get in there PUNCH SLAP...
by Fred Nicholson | Apr 21, 2014 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
He’s 83 today but looks younger in his black suit. I whisper to him and play with the fingers that respond unnaturally. His closed lids make me wonder if his eyes are still in there. For three days he lays in view of 60 empty chairs. My brother comes by with his wife....
by Fred Nicholson | Apr 21, 2014 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
Eye Peace we hold hands, mama and me, climb the steps to Lester Weintraub, OPTOMETRIST. he tests me with the chart, changes lenses in the two-eyed machine. blinds me with his pen light gizmo. says SEE YOU TOMORROW. we go back the next night, and he adjusts my new...
by Fred Nicholson | Apr 21, 2014 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
Come in here boy Sit down Let’s talk like men When there’s something on your mind let me know We’ll discuss it What we discuss is between you and me You’re not a man if you can’t keep a secret You got that? Good Let’s shake on it. * Boy Come in here Stand right there...
by Fred Nicholson | Nov 24, 2012 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
He storms into the boys room, whips the clothing closet curtain back and hollers, What the . . . Girl . . . no, don’t you move a muscle. Girl come in here. You gotta see this. She shuffles into our room, cased in her sadness cloud and stands beside him. Look at...
by Fred Nicholson | Oct 23, 2012 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
When I was 12, we lived in the Lillian Wald Housing Projects in the Lower East Side of New York City. Every summer we’d pass the Pitt Street Pool and hear the splashing and laughter coming from the other side of the high brick wall. That summer day mom said,...
by Fred Nicholson | Jul 6, 2012 | Kids and Grown Ups, Stories
Do you know what welfare means? It means I’m going with Ma and a big brown US Department of Agriculture bag open in the shopping cart to the Welfare Distribution Center in another project building, across from the basketball court. It means walking past the...
