Me and David

  Freddie and Stanley Smith were brothers born at the tail end of the nineteenth century. They also had another brother who was killed in the British Army in World War 1. The two remaining brothers were very close and each had an identical, somewhat outrageous sense of humor.

  Freddie had three sons, Peter, Derek, then a gap, then David. Of the two elder sons, Peter was a little more serious but they each had an identical, somewhat outrageous sense of humor. Unfortunately. both Peter and Derek were killed in World War 2, Peter in the Royal Air Force, Derek in the Royal Navy.

  Stanley had a daughter, Barbara, then a gap, then me. Barbara
 lives in England. She has a very keen sense of humor, sometimes somewhat outrageous. 
  David is a few months younger than me. Strangely enough, we each have an identical, somewhat outrageous sense of humor. We have always been great friends. This story is about a part of that friendship....the friendship of me and David.

  Unfortunately, for much of our lives, David and I have lived far apart. At the present time, he lives in northern Scotland and I live in California. But, we talk to each other every few weeks. As I have said above, we each seem to have an identical sense of humor.  One thing is certain. Over the last seventy years or so, whenever we are together, someone is in trouble.
  My first recollection of the two of us getting into trouble was in 1939, so we were sevenish. Our two families were on holiday together at Trimingham, on the east coast of England. We were staying at a private hotel which I believe was called "Highlawns". The hotel probably had about 30 to 40 guests and was situated in very nice grounds with lawns and a tennis court. It was a short walk from a beautiful beach down a narrow path. We had a very good time there and it was on this holiday that I learned to swim.
  On the lawn behind the hotel was a large summer house, a wood and glass structure. It had a main room with chairs, a table and a couch. In front of the double doors was a sizable covered porch. The whole thing was mounted on what looked like a miniature, circular railroad track, and it ran on this track on many small wheels. Thus, it could be rotated to face or avoid the sun. It ran on the track so smoothly that even two small, seven year old boys could push it around. Herein lay the problem. David and I had already been balled out by the hotel manager for pushing it.  Despite this, one day, we decided to get it going. Some of the hotel guests were seated on the lawn when we got it moving and several of them began to laugh. Hearing the laughter, we pushed even harder and we had it going at quite a clip before we realized that the hotel chef, Big Fat Lucy we had christened her, had been taking a nap inside when the rotation started. Now, she was trying to get her bulky frame upright and out of the door so she could call for help from her rotating cocoon. At this point, the hotel manager came rushing out, screaming at us to stop it. But, there was no way two small, seven year olds were going to stop this juggernaut. It was running so smoothly, it looked to us like it would run for hours. Then, the manager saw Lucy inside and I'll swear a smile crossed her face. Some of the guests stopped it and a very giddy Lucy came out ready to kill us. But, we were no longer in evidence. As far as I can remember, David and I were sent to bed right after tea.

  It was a beautiful sunny, summer day in England, they do happen occasionally. Eight or so adults are seated at tea on one of the terraced lawns in front of 25 Green Lane, Northwood, where David lived. David and I, the two 8 or 9 year olds, had finished our tea and had been excused. We had therefore disappeared. Some time later, the two young boys are seen struggling across the garden, carrying between them a large green painted object. As they come past the tea table, it can be seen that the large object is, in fact, one of the shed doors. Nobody said a word as the two boys struggled on, looking neither left nor right as they carried their load around the end of the house and out of sight. David and I then put the door down and congratulated each other on a job well done. But, we could not work out why nobody had said anything. We had imagined it would be treated with both  anger and amusement, but nothing ........??  It turned out a long time later that they were all at bursting point, trying not to laugh and therefore encourage us to do more. Why had we taken the door off? Who knows?  But, at that age, reasons are irrelevant. The explanation probably was that, while playing in the shed, we came across a screwdriver and a step ladder and we wanted to put them to good use. So, we unscrewed the door from its hinges. Logical enough.  

  I think I was about 9 or 10 when Auntie Ida and David came to tea one day. At tea, the two mothers were discussing the property behind our house. It had been a beautiful private golf course but, during the war, had been put to agricultural use and now cows grazed upon it. They commented that what had once been a picturesque tee just beyond our fence was now covered in "cow pancakes".
  "No, no" said David "those aren't pancakes, that's SHIT". He pronounced the last word loudly so that it sounded like some literary gem.
  Auntie Ida looked horrified while my mother's face took on an almost smug look, obviously thankful that her precious son had not uttered this obscenity.
  "David, how dare you talk like that" she exclaimed "where did you learn that word?" David flicked his thumb in my direction and said "he told me".
  The two mothers interchanged expressions, I believe my mother wished she could dissolve into the upholstery. 
  As soon as they left, I was put to bed. "Your father is going to hear about this".
  It was many years later before I found out that the grown ups had a lot of laughter over this incident.

  Page forward sixty or so years.

  A few years ago, David and his wife Betty were visiting from Scotland and were staying with their son Adrian and his wife Debs who live in Bellevue, WA. They were all staying for the weekend in a village of beachside houses and cabins near Eastsound on Orcas Island when Joy and I went to see them. 
  David and I had a standard method of greeting for many years when we had not seen each other for a while. That is, we march toward each other at a fast pace and in step. When about five feet apart, we snap to a halt and salute........  Hup - 2 - 3 -4 - 5 - Down. Precision is of the essence. We did just that on the day on Orcas. Then, while the two wives sat and talked, David and I walked along the beach and through the village for an hour or so, talking and doing our usual thing. Quite what our usual thing was that day I cannot remember, but we did it anyway. 
  We were told later that two ladies had reported to the office that they had seen two gentlemen behaving strangely in the village. When we heard this, we realized that the two ladies were obviously mistaken. What they had seen was not two gentlemen behaving strangely but two Brits behaving normally. An understandable mistake. 
  
  More than sixty years of friendship lie between the antics of the mischievous seven year olds  and the strange behavior of the seventy year olds. In the intervening years are a myriad of other stories and many more not remembered. Most of them are not easily relatable, as are the tales of juvenile mischief, and some are often just remarks or quips made at the time. But all are products of two lifelong friends, each with an identical, somewhat outrageous sense of humor. I know I am selfish to say this but, in my own mind, I really hope that there will be quite a few more years to the story of me and David.                  
 

"Two gentlemen behaving strangely??"