For some reason, we never got along with the McKim kids. The two boys were just a bit older than the five of us. They came to our house many times and I think every single time our play turned into a fight. Then Mom would hear, come outside, yell at all of us and send them home.
I think our lack of friendship had something to do with their attitude of superiority. They frequently would say things like their house was bigger or their parents had more money than ours. Nobody likes to hear their family put down, but in this case I didn’t think it was probably even true. How could the boys know how rich their parents were, much less how much money our parents had? We went to the same school, we rode the same school bus and our houses were only about a mile apart on intersecting country roads.
With all that being said, they came over often and there was always trouble. We discovered that they were easily tricked and we would fool them then call them names like dummy and moron. One time we tied baling twine together into a long string, then put tin cans on each end and pretended we could talk back and forth like a telephone. The McKims could not make out what was said of course, because nobody could, we were lying when we said that we could. But they never figured that out. Then we would say they needed to tell their parents to take them to a doctor because something was wrong with their ears.
Another time they came on a rainy day both wearing new cowboy hats. They were showing them off and saying that we were too poor to have something that cool. Of course, we didn’t have hats like that and we were a bit jealous. But we teased them saying that the hats were going to sprout because they were straw hats in the rain and then they would look really stupid with green sprouts growing up all over. At first they were worried and took the hats off, but we kept laughing at what the sprouting hats were going to look like until they got mad.
One day the McKim boys came over to our house on brand new bicycles. They had chrome that shone and snazzy paint jobs. Our family had more kids than bikes. In addition, our bikes had a hard life and often flat tires. We liked to build ramps and my brothers could jump the bikes over them.
The McKims weren’t as coordinated as my brothers, who had a lot of practice at this. The first time one of them tried the jump, he crashed, bent his handlebars crooked to the frame and hurt his chin on the landing. We made fun of him, saying he was clumsy and rode like a girl. He just said we were jealous and so poor we had junky bikes.
Then my brother said he could fix the bike and would if he could ride it. Well, the McKim boy said ok to that so the bike kind of got fixed and my brother rode it over and over the jump. We all teased the McKims that they were so bad at bike-riding that it was a waste they had new bikes. That made them mad and the yelling started, so they were going to go home.
But the last time over the jump apparently put a nail hole in the tire and it was flat. Now the boys were really upset because we were making fun that they had to push the bike all the way home. Our Mom came outside and saw what was happening. She told us to go in the house, then put the bikes into the pickup and gave the boys and their bikes a ride home. When she got back to us, we were in trouble. It seems every time the McKims and us were together, it was a war.
At some point, we discovered that we could make bows and arrows out of pine tree limbs. It was unbelievably fun. We could actually shoot ‘arrows’ quite a way and with a little bit of accuracy as well. With practice we got pretty good at it.
Then the McKim boys came to play and unfortunately for us, they had a BB gun. We knew that we were in trouble. Our homemade bows and arrows were no match for that BB gun and we were all a little scared of it. If Mom had known they brought it, she would have sent them home, but she didn’t even know the boys were there.
At first we looked it over and even admired it, but it wasn’t long before the oldest McKim boy was threatening my brother who had his bow. Turns out the McKim boy had the safety on and had forgotten it was. My brother took off running when the BB gun was aimed at him, but stopped when he realized no shot was coming.
We were all shouting and name calling then because we were afraid for our brother. But he saw that the McKims couldn’t figure out why the gun wouldn’t shoot so he got close and shot at them with his bow and arrow. The arrow barely hit one of the boys in his back but it was enough to make them run away.
My brother quickly strung up another arrow and chased them, along with the rest of us. It was a route, we were all yelling and giving chase when somehow the McKim boy got the safety off and accidently shot his own brother in the back of the knee. He was wearing short pants so the BB hit bare skin and it hurt.
Our Mom came running out of the house just in time to see the boy go down to the ground, screaming and crying. There was a tiny blood spot where the BB hit him, but the biggest problem was that they told our Mom that my brother shot him with the arrow. Mom of course believed them at first. We were disgusted and were all shouting at her so she would know the truth.
Well Moms are pretty smart and she soon realized there was a BB gun present. She loaded up the McKim boys and took them home with their BB gun. That time we heard that she talked to their Mom and they got into trouble. Our parents seemed to think the wars were getting more intense so we saw less and less of the McKims after that. I think all of our parents talked and had something to do with that.
Not too long after that we ended up moving out of that house and moved out of state. We learned later that after we moved out, the McKim boys came and shot BB’s through lots of the windows of our house. My parents had already sold it, but told the new family who had shot out the windows. The police were involved and those boys had to pay for all those windows to be replaced. Us kids felt a bit vindicated, but would have rather had another war and taken it up with them personally.
I don’t know what happened to the McKims, but at some point they also, all moved away. Interestingly, by the time I was in high school, my uncle, a real estate agent, listed the McKim house and my parents bought it and lived there for many years.
Funny how sometimes things come around full circle.