Chapter Ten – The Return

The time passed quickly for Poobah. With Two-Ton’s Mother feeding him tasty, healthy foods, he even felt he had gained some weight over the three years he had spent in his new home. Perhaps it was the cookies. The family had accepted him as one of their own. Poobah worried the guys might change his name to Three-Ton as One and Two-Ton had the first two locked up. But his friends were content with Poobah, and so was he.

Three Morons were to be part of the 1949 Waldheim graduating class. Poobah had participated and got reasonable enough grades to graduate. The thought of graduating brought back the desire to return home, a home which faded from memory for most days but continued to haunt him during the nights when sleep eluded him amid the snoring of the Ton brothers. This scenario repeated itself most nights.

The photographer came to the school to take the graduation photo. It seemed so wrong. It was the landmark his real Mom was to attend. Instead, he had to share Two-Ton’s mother. The photographer placed Poobah between Two-Ton and Fiedelbaum standing in the back row. Blondie stood on the opposite side of the teachers. The girls were seated in the front row bedecked with colorful dresses and corsages. The photographer said, “Smile.” The flashbulb exploded.

The flash of light lingered and became a glare hurting Poobah’s eyes. His head hurt. He suddenly realized he was lying down, curled up on the floor. The flash must have had some pop! The constant chirping of birds made him think he had been knocked out in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Then he recognized the call of White-Throated Sparrow. “Pure, Sweet, Canada, Canada, Canada,” Poobah said, mimicking the bird’s song. Fiedelbaum had taught him to identify the bird while building rafts for Hinz’s Slough.

Poobah sat up and looked around. He was in the middle of a debris field of downed trees. He was sitting on the remains of the outhouse floor and up against the two-holer seats. His vision was blurred, and it took him a while to focus.

“Where is the graduation meal?” he muttered. “I’m hungry.”

In the distance, he saw a lake. It was then that he remembered where he was. Poobah assumed the body of water was Iroquois Lake. He stumbled to his feet, felt dizzy, and sat down on the toilet bench. “What a ride!” he said as he looked back at the lake. Vaguely he remembered his visit to the distant Moron past.

Jefferson gathered his feet beneath him and began to negotiate his way over and around felled trees. Halfway to the lake, he saw his cellphone in the moss.

“I think I’m going to leave it for some future archeologist,” he muttered as he walked by. As Poobah got nearer the lake, he noticed his uncle’s cabin was still intact.

“I hope Mother is alright,” he said to himself.

In the distance, the loon called. The sound echoed over the lake.

He opened the cabin door. Mother appeared from her curtained-off bedroom yawning. “Did you have a good hike?” she asked. “I had a great nap. I slept like a log.”

“Yeah, lots of trees and rocks and rocks and trees,” he said.

Mother smiled.

“I missed you,” Jefferson said as he walked over and hugged her. “I met some old-timers who told me about life in the olden days. Great guys!” Mother held him close. She wasn’t used to this.

 “Mom, when we go home, can we stop in Waldheim. I want to visit the High School. I’d like to see the graduation pictures. Most schools have their graduation class photos hanging on the wall, don’t they.”

Mother agreed. She was happy with any indication her son might becoming interested in his education.

When the holiday ended, Jefferson’s mother was true to her word, stopping in the town of Waldheim. Jefferson didn’t recognize the community. Hinz’s slough was much the same. Jefferson pointed out the difference between the mallard and the shoveler ducks to his mother. “The shoveler has the black bill.”

In town, Two-Ton’s house was still standing, but not much else. The elevators were gone, the railway station was now a museum. The main street had changed entirely with Honey’s, Two-Ton’s, and Feidelbaum’s fathers’ businesses no longer there. Jefferson longed for a revel. The old churches were gone, even the one with the steeple.

Together, mother and son visited the museum. Jefferson stared at the pictures. The world depicted in photographs was what he remembered. It was the world which the present town had omitted and forgotten. Jefferson imagined everyone thought these changes in town were signs of progress. Jefferson smiled. The world he had visited was real.

The community had replaced the old school. With the gym, it covered most of the area where the Morons had dared each other to cross the ice. At the school, the janitor let them into the building. Recognizing them as strangers and visitors, he apologized that there was no one around to show them the building.

“I just want to see the graduation photos,” Jefferson said.

“They are just down the hall,” the janitor said.

Mother followed as Jefferson went down the hall, past the recent photographs, until he stood before the 1949 graduation class.

“Look, Mom,” Jefferson said. “There’s Blondie, Two-Ton, and Feidelbaum.” Jefferson was smiling ear to ear, and speaking loudly enough, that the sound echoed down the hall.

          “Who are they?” Mother asked. “How do you know them?”

          “And there’s Mr. Thiessen, who got up early each morning to pray beside each student’s desk,” Jefferson exclaimed.

          Mother was confused, “What?”

          “These were the old guys I was telling you about at Iroquois,” Jefferson explained.

For Mother, the answer was sufficient. She was just happy to see him relate to people, to anyone.

Jefferson looked carefully at the graduation photo looking for any hint that the picture had somehow captured Poobah, the outhouse refugee. He thought he saw a shadow behind Two-Ton and Feidelbaum against the curtains, was it him? The evidence wasn’t convincing, Probably not.

Jefferson was both relieved and disappointed not to find himself in the photograph. It would have been fun to see his mother’s reaction, but far to difficult to explain.

*****

The Morons’ Club amused a group of boys for three years. In a world without televisions, cell phones, theatres, money, or much-structured activity, they used their creativity to make their fun. The closest thing to a movie would be when the John Deere Company would sponsor a film along with endless ads for John Deere Equipment. The whole school emptied and walked to the town hall for the event. Years later, no one would remember the shows, only the John Deere ads.

Henry (Fiedelbaum), Norman (Two-Ton), and Richard (Blondie) graduated from Waldheim High School in 1949. They left the community for schooling and work. Without their leadership, particularly Henry’s, the group disbanded.

The Morons went on to become missionaries, teachers, pastors, a mechanic, a sawmill foreman, and an insurance employee.

The stories for the Morons’ Club are pulled from the memoirs of Henry Feyerabend, Born to Preach, and Norman Bartel, Trusting God in Life’s Journey, and the memories of Eldred Fast, Norman and Mary Bartel, Richard Regier, Alvera Bartel, and Rosella Braun. Thank you. At the time of writing, Norman, Eldred, and Richard are the only known surviving members of the Waldheim Moron’s Club.

Members included Henry Feyerabend, Norman Bartel, Eldred Fast, Clifford Schultz, Harvey Gossen, Glen Friesen, Allen Schmidt, Richard Regier, and Eugene Janzen.