Scooter

An impromptu trip to Maplewood, NJ last weekend, where I spent the first three years of my life, brought back a few memories for me.

The town looks as quaint as ever, with its beautiful tree-lined streets of picture-perfect English Tudors and older colonials with perfectly manicured lawns and a lovely town center with shops (shoppes) and restaurants and a mid-town direct train station. I would gladly settle down in that town if the property taxes weren't so prohibitive. ($20,000 a year for a 2,1oo square foot house on an eighth of an acre? I don't think so.)

I don't remember much from living there in the early 80's except for some of the people in the neighborhood. Our neighborhood was primarily Jewish, but some of the nearby streets had an African-American population. There was one individual that I do remember well and his name was Scooter. (I'm not sure if that was his nickname or what, but in any event, that's what he was known as.) He was my older sister's friend's older brother.

Scooter was a prick and he tormented me. I remember him being tall, like eight feet tall, but in retrospect, he was probably a 4'6" nine year-old with self esteem issues. At any rate, the kid scared the shit out of me. I recall him saying things like, "PJ, I'm in the kitchen, I'm gonna get you..." or "PJ, I'm in the dining room, I'm gonna get you." Then there was the time that he threw dirt in my eye (in my own fucking backyard!). You don't be bringin' dat shit into my house, son. These experiences were my first with black people, so maybe that's why I still have some hostility towards them.

Apparently my father had a "little talk" with Scooter one day as Scooter was walking his dog and he ceased to bother me after that. Then we moved to an exurb about 25 miles west of Maplewood and he was no longer a presence in my life. But to this day, I still think about Scooter and often wonder if he thinks about me. (I doubt that he does.) I am curious as to how he turned out. Here are a few possibilities.

• He is inmate #234725 at Rahway State Penitentiary for aggravated assault, grand larceny and conspiracy to distribute heroin.
• He is no longer living due to a gang-related incident.
• He is a physical-education teacher at Columbia High School in nearby South Orange.
• He works as a baggage handler at Newark Airport.
• He is an insurance salesman in Parsippany.
• He is a homeless junkie who nods off in abandoned doorways in Newark.
• He is a the chief of surgery at St. Barnabas Hospital.
• He is a construction worker somewhere down south.
• He is an investment banker at Deutsche Bank, but aspires to work at Goldman. He lives with his wife and two children in Mamaroneck.
• He is playing semi-professional basketball in Slovakia.
• He is unemployed and living in the basement of the house he grew up in and still torments three year-old white kids.

So, basically Scooter could have turned out to be part of the gentry...or not.

Note: Scooter, if you're reading this, contact me and we'll have a beer and I'll throw some dirt in your face.