Rebel Without a Cause (30 page)

I know my mother went to the movies a lot. She used to hold my sister when she was a baby yet. I was I guess about three or four and I used to cry I wanted to go home, to go out of there; it always scared me.

When I lived on S—— Street we had a porch that was elevated from the ground about two feet. We had a clubhouse there and we kept milk bottles and soda bottles that we could get a nickel on there. We had everything in that clubhouse, dirt, junk, an old car seat, parts of bicycles, things like that. We stole much of that stuff. Sometimes we would break into a lunch wagon. It was easy. You take hold of the lock and you put a spike about eight inches long inside and you press down on the lock and the lock snaps open. Then we’d steal maybe ten bottles of soda, then close the lock and everything would be o.k. One time when I was about thirteen my father gave me a beating and I ran out of the house and didn’t go home that night. I got hungry and came back to the lunch wagon to steal something to eat, a bottle of soda, a couple of cans of milk. When coming through the lot I saw my uncle and he started chasing me. I ran. I jumped over some fences and ran as fast as I could, but he must have been just as fast as I was. He caught me and took me home. So I got another beating and went to bed.

I never liked my father much. If I cared to say something to him and he didn’t understand me he gave me a dirty look. If I played truant my mother would give me a beating and tell my father about it and he would holler at me, call me a bum. Sometimes I would lie to him and he’d find out I lied and call me a liar. So I found that the best thing I could do was just to keep quiet, say as little as possible to my father, never go into details about anything. I seldom saw him: I seldom spoke to him. When I was older I used to see him maybe once a week on Sunday mornings. Now I can remember that every once in a while I would catch my mother and him arguing about me but I would say nothing to him. Everytime I went out of the house I didn’t care what happened. I’d got so I’d go to a poolroom or something like that, get drunk. I was so sick of everything I didn’t care whether I had a job or even looked for one.…

My cousin Emma, she was about five years older than I am, she was Riggs’ sister, used to mind us when we were kids. I was about twelve then I guess, but she was really there to watch my sister Anna. I remember I used to sit in a place where I could look up her dress. She knew it too, and I knew she knew it, but she didn’t seem to mind much. She’d see me look at her like that and she didn’t care. I didn’t get very far with her. She was older than me and she treated
me like a kid. She had straw hair and bowlegs; not very nice. One time I wrote a dirty note to her and asked her to come under the porch with me and I’d lay her. My uncle found the note. It had my name on it. I denied it but I got a beating anyway. But everything was forgotten in three or four days. I said to her I knew who wrote it and I told her some guy’s name. I didn’t even know any fellow by such a name.…

Lately my eyes feel sort of heavy; they feel like they burn, they burn in the sunlight. I never liked to go out in the sun. I always kept them sort of closed during the daytime. I liked to go out at night when they’d stay open all the time and they wouldn’t burn like they do in the daytime. But whenever I went out during the day I liked to go out by myself and not bother with anybody. That’s why when I went out at night it was different. I hung out with a gang of fellows from P—— Street or went to a poolroom. I liked to stay on the river most of the day, go in with one or two other fellows swimming or boating all day. It just seemed that I didn’t want any people around me, didn’t care for their company; they were boring. I didn’t like to ride in a car either. It would make me sick. Whenever I went anywhere I hitched with Riggs. One time we went all the way to P—— and back. Sometimes when I was playing truant from school I’d get a hitch over to N——, hang around the docks all day and come back by night. One time I had a pair of glasses on—I was about twelve then—and I was running on the street after the truck and Riggs was with me. He got ahold of it and jumped on, and I remember the truck stopped real sudden and I ran right into it and I broke the glasses. The guy must have seen me trying to get the hitch through his mirror.

My cousin Riggs and myself and three other guys were planning one time to get a hitch on a freight train. The other fellows went; I didn’t. They came back two days later. I didn’t feel like going on a freight car. I don’t think I ever rode on one for more than three miles. We’d get hitches on the railroad from one town to another, about three miles. The whole gang would ride back and forth. Sometimes when I’d get sick of staying home, or of school, I’d leave for a couple days or a week, but I never got any hitches on freight
trains. I guess I was afraid of them: they were so dirty, filthy, and a lot of bums hang out on them. I got all my hitching done on trucks. One time I went hitching out to my aunt’s place and that’s more than eighty miles from home. I got back two days later. I remember I stopped off on the side of the highway and there was a roadside stand. It was closed so I broke in and got something to eat. Then I took my clothes off and went swimming in a little lake nearby. I liked to go off like that once in a while. I enjoyed myself. If I wanted to go swimming I went swimming: if I wanted to hitch I’d hitch. I didn’t care anything about money, whether I had any or not, or about eating. Sometimes I’d get so hungry I’d eat anything.

The first time I left home I guess I was about nine or ten. My cousin Benny and me left home together. He had about two dollars and we went to a show that night and then just hung around. We didn’t go back to the house until our people found us and took us home.

Every once in a while when I was home I got the feeling that I didn’t want to stay there; I wanted to be by myself. My mother used to worry about me. She’d cry. I guess all mothers worry about their sons.

I didn’t get along with my father. Sometimes I wouldn’t talk to my sisters or my mother for three or four days. I felt out of place, so I would put on my hat and coat and go out. I didn’t care where I went. I walked out on the street and if I turned one way I kept on going that way. That’s the way it was. I guess when I was between fourteen and eighteen I left home most: I’d leave every three or four months.

I remember my uncle was going to take me down to South America when I was around seventeen. He was going to collect his bonus, about a thousand dollars, and he told me he was going to take me to South America. But he was going to get his bonus in June and the February before that he got killed. So we didn’t go. He always tried to keep me away from kids he didn’t like. He knew I’d get in a lot of trouble with them. He told me to leave guns alone, that I’d get in trouble with them, and that I shouldn’t steal things. I thought more of him than anyone else. He would hold up for me when my mother hollered and when she gave me a beating. He always had lots of arguments with my father about things. We’d drink together.
All I know is that sometimes he got so drunk that he couldn’t stand on his feet and I had to take him home. He’d get so drunk I’d take him down the cellar where there was an old bed and he’d sleep it off there. My mother always fixed him up so when he’d go home my grandmother wouldn’t notice anything. He didn’t care about anything. He was married about ten years but separated from his wife for a long time. He just didn’t give one damn about a thing. When he was working and he wanted to quit he’d quit. Then he’d drink and quit everything but drinking.

I used to play with a kid named Rickert. He seemed to me like a sissy, not like a tough kid. I guess he was the smartest one in the classroom. He would always sit up near the front. Sometimes I’d be sitting near the center. In the English class he was the smartest one, all the girls were around him. Sometimes when the teacher would want to punish somebody she’d put them in a seat where he was surrounded by all the little girls. That was the punishment for them. I got punished sometimes like that and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like to sit with girls all around and on every side of me.

When I lived on F—— Street I must have been three or four. I don’t remember much about my father then. I know my mother was younger looking. She wasn’t so stout as she is now. My sister used to be in the cradle and sometimes I would touch her or something and my mother would holler at me for touching her, bothering her while she was asleep.

When we were living in P—— I know the house——to me it was like a two-story house. I don’t know how many rooms there were. I know it looked like a store in front. On the first floor there were the windows and there used to be the machine that my father worked on automobile tires with, and in the back there was a room with a lot of tools in it.

Sometimes I used to see—my mother—feeding my sister—from—her—breasts. I guess my sister was just a little baby. My mother— used to feed her—through her—breasts—and—and I— used to—watch. I don’t know how long we were living there. I guess my sister was about five months old then; younger than that, maybe three months. She was born in B——. I remember now that my father had a relative in P——. I guess that’s why we moved there and—and he couldn’t speak English very well. I know sometimes
my mother used to argue with my father because she had to talk for this relative.

My mother used to tell me that when they were first married my father beat her and she left him. The first time was when she took us, my sister and myself, to my grandmother’s house. That was when we were living on B—— Street. I was about four then and my sister was about two. She separated from him but my grandmother made her go back.

When we lived in P—— my father had a truck. He’d go out and buy a lot of old tires and I’d see all different kinds and sizes and shapes, big and small. Once he made me sit in one and turned me around and I fell out. He told me to hold on when he turned me upside down. I was alright but when going over again I fell out. I can hear—I can hear him say something—something—I can’t make it out. He said something like “bad kid … crying.” And sometimes he’d holler at my mother in front of me. All I know is I used to wear a dress then and stay close to my mother. My mother—was a beautiful—she was a beautiful woman then.

I know I didn’t like to go in the storeroom, the room with the big windows in it, because the light was—shining there. I didn’t like the sunlight. I didn’t like to look in the sunlight, everything was so bright and shiny. I just didn’t like it. I’d stay out of there. My father chased me out of there a lot.

My sister used to sleep in a baby carriage and I slept—slept—in the—cradle. My mother and father slept together in a big bed in one room. I think the carriage was the one I had. The cradle had a box-like shape, with wooden spokes on it. There was a dresser in the bedroom and a big mirror on it. I don’t remember what was on the bureau: it wasn’t high, about three feet. It had a round mirror suspended on the wall above it. Sometimes my mother would—pick—me up and—sit me on it and I’d—I’d look in the mirror.

I don’t know if my father made any money out of his business. He would chase me out of the store when I got in there. He’d holler at my mother for leaving me in there. He said that—he said—I—was—was—blind; that I’d get hurt.

One time I stepped on a nail. I remember I walked over a pile of
boards that had nails in them and I had sneakers on and one of the nails stuck through. My aunt Vanya called me a blind dog—a blind dog—in Polish. I didn’t want to stay around there after that so I fixed my leg up. It was swelling but I wanted to go home right away. My grandmother made me stay, but I got away as soon as I could. A blind dog …

L: ‘Now, Harold, I want you to think carefully. Why should your father have said that you were blind at that time? If it is true that he said you were blind at that time, then your grandfather’s funeral must have been before that time; because you remember you distinctly recalled that your eyes were open at your grandfather’s funeral.’

My grandfathers funeral was just about that time. I remember we came from P—— to see my grandfather when he was dead, maybe a couple of months afterwards.

L: ‘You’re sure it was from P—— you came?’

I—I used to go to the storeroom. The sun was shining and I’d block my eyes, hold my hands up to them. He used to push—push me—push me out.

L: ‘How old were you at that time?’

I don’t know.

L: ‘Tell me; about how old?”

About two and a half or three. I couldn’t walk so well. I—used to wear—skirts. My sister was about five or six months old so I must have been about two and a half or three.

L: ‘It was about the time of your grandfather’s funeral that you came to P—— from B——?’

Yes—yes. I don’t remember much about coming to P—— from B——, but in P—— the house we lived in was different from the one we lived in in B——. We had a nice house in B——. Everything looked bright, painted up, cheerful. We had about six rooms and a big sunporch in the back. The rooms were cheerful, big. I know we had a big square gramaphone, the same we had when we lived on B—— Street. I guess my father must have been making quite a bit of money when we had such a fine place in B——. Wait! I think I know how it was. He lost his job or something and we went to P—— only for a few months. Maybe that’s why the house wasn’t so nice. In B—— it was bright and cheerful. I—I’m seeing parts of it. There is a table and
a highchair for me. I have a lot of toys, rubber toys, dolls, things like that. I must have been about—O, about a year and a half. I don’t remember my sister there. My aunts used to come over. My aunt Louise used to feed me. She’d make me eat spinach. I hated it. I know my mother used to pick me up then. She looks like—like my sister does now. I don’t think she was more than eighteen or nineteen. There was a sun-porch. The sun used to be there in the morning. There was a yard in the back. Kids used to play there. My father was different then. He wasn’t so small as he is now, not so broadshouldered. He had—had all his—hair.