Got my first bike that year. It was royal blue, black banana seat, and it was different from every other bike in my neighborhood.
Nope.
Barely noticed. For my birthday that year my Grandma and Grandpa threw me the biggest party that any of their grandchildren ever got.
Nope.
Barely noticed. Every toy, tossed aside. Every piece of clothing, noped to the left. The cake. Remember nothing about it. Everyone I cared about was there except him and I didn’t give two shits about any of them. Uncle Ball was coming. He was going to be there and that was all that mattered.
He showed up like a ray of light shows up through clouds. It only shines on one spot. That spot was me. He walked in the door and I saw him and rushed to get to him. I tripped on the hem of my khaki suit and hit the ground. I didn’t even try to get up. I just crawled. He scooped me into his arms and laughed.
He hugged me. Called me a butterball klutz and I laughed. He set me on my feet, looked me in the eyes and said, “Happy Birthday, Jesse. I love you.”
“Do you have it? Did you get it?”
He laughed, and the charisma that poured off him lit up all of my life. “Of course I got it.” He reached in his back pocket, pulled out the McDonald’s Children’s Booklet. He grabbed my hand, slapped it in my palm and I almost cried. And if I had, it would have been alright.
Crying in front of Char was not alright. Crying in front of Grandpa was not alright. Uncle Wrath, Less, couldn’t cry in front of any of the kids in my school, but it was fine to cry in front of Uncle Ball. He dropped down to my eye level, grabbed my shoulder—I remember it was my right shoulder—and he smiled.
“We are going to have a blast,” he said.
Something leaps into bed with me and it is all arms. It’s heavy and I am about to scream. Then it starts to tickle me. His fingers hit all the right spots as if he had told God where to put my tickle spots before I was born, and I laugh so hard that I pee just a little bit. I beg him to stop but I want him to tickle me forever. It all ends in a hug. An Uncle Ball hug. All four limbs. Both arms and both of his legs from behind, and he whispers to me.
“You didn’t lose it, did you?”
He lets me go and I jump out of bed shaking my head. “I didn’t lose it. I know right where it is.” I run to my dresser and reach behind it. It is close to the wall, and for a few terrible moments I am sure that I did lose it, but my hands touch the slick surface of the cover and I pull it out. I dust it off and hold it out to him.
“It’s right here! Look, I still have it! It’s right here. No one stole it from me.” It was a valid thing to say. Less always found my McDonald’s Children’s Booklet and destroyed it. But I was getting good at hiding things.
He waved his arms at me, “Come here.” I jumped into my bed and he hugged me again. “Which one do you want this time?”
All playing and fun was instantly put away. This was serious stuff. This was where the rubber met the road. I knew that no matter which I chose, I would regret it when I got home, but my eyes scanned each page as I flipped through the booklet. I flipped back. Then flipped through again.
The booklet was about three inches by six inches by half an inch. All coupons, all free. I was sure they were free because I didn’t understand what “Free with purchase” meant.
“This one. I want this one.” And I pointed at the sundae. Vanilla ice cream, chocolate fudge, and finely cut peanuts. The Cadillac of McDonald’s desserts. It came in a cup that had thick grooves down the sides and you had to take your spoon and very carefully dig all the bits out of those grooves.
“Come on!” He jumped to his feet. “Let’s go!” We made for the door. I ran, and Rose shouted.
“No running in the house!” But I was close to the door so it didn’t matter.
“I’m taking this boy and I am running away. Me and him on our own together. Say your goodbyes because this is the last time—” I was already outside. I didn’t hear the last of it.
The sun was always brighter on McDonald’s Children’s Booklet days. My shoes hit the pavement different. Do you understand what I am saying? Can you remember that? Sometimes when you are a kid your steps seem sloppy and your feet kind of roll. But sometimes when the event is right, it feels like your shoes are more assertive. Like the ground comes up to meet your stomp instead of you reaching down for it.
I looked behind me to make sure he was following and stared at the way he walked. I did my best to walk just like him, and I managed.
“Where’s your car?” I asked.
“Got a new car. Do you think you can find it?”
I walked up the street until I saw the most Uncle Ball car the world had ever seen. I knew I would actually cry if this wasn’t his car. I stopped and looked at it. And it shined just like he did.
A young girl, probably my age, was standing close staring at it, too. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
Royal blue, just like my bike. ’81 Camaro.
I stopped and stared at him. I looked up and his smile was the world. “Is this it?”
He nodded. His eyes swept to the little girl standing close.
“Do you want to drive this time, or do you think I should?” he asked with a serious face.
I didn’t smile, or giggle, when I was around Uncle Ball and he was doing things like this. I could usually keep it together. I shook my head as if I was trying to decide, then I nodded and pointed at him. “I think you should drive this time. You’re better on the highway.”
He swung the big door open, reached across and unlocked my door, and I climbed into the most amazing car I had ever seen. I looked at the girl staring wide mouthed at me. And I nodded.
“Good, that’s real good. You could fuck her if you said a few slick things to her. You gotta start soon. You have to work your number.” He winked at me and then he drove away.
Took me about ten minutes of Milwaukee traffic to wipe that statement out of my mind. I uh-huhed, and yeah, that’s righted until I had stopped picturing me trying to fuck that girl and got my mind back on the McDonald’s Children’s Booklet.
He got the Big Mac. Brown styrofoam case. I got the hamburger in the white paper wrapper, and of course my sundae. He talked a lot. I giggled when I could, and my mind went back to when this had all started.
As a family we had stopped by to visit Grandpa and Grandma. The adults talked and I snuck away to go see if I could visit Uncle Ball. He checked before he let me in, unlocking his door and walking across the room to drop into a chair set in front of a small desk. He was looking into a mirror, wiping his face with a cotton ball.
“What is that?” I asked.
“I have a date,” he said. “I have to be ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked as I walked around the room. This was my favorite place in the world. The lair of the coolest person in the world.
“I have got to get pussy tonight. It’s time. I have to do it. I’m running late.”
“What’s pussy?” But I was starting to understand that it was here, too. As I turned, I saw the same look on his face that Char often wore.
“I don’t really have time to talk about it, Jesse, but here. Look at this.” He dropped a magazine in the floor. “Look at the pictures.”
The magazine was black and white. I saw the pictures and I knew what pussy was all of a sudden.
“That right there!” Uncle Ball said. “That is what it is all about. If you are not doing that, you are not a man.” I looked up from the magazine and tried to figure out what he was saying. What I was hearing.
He jumped to his feet, grabbed a brush, and dropped back into his seat. He brushed his hair and sprayed it down with hair spray. I was used to hair spray, I just didn’t know that men used it, too. He examined himself in the mirror and nodded.
He pulled his t-shirt off and buttoned on a different one. He tucked it in and rolled the cuff of his jeans, tucked them tight to his ankle. He looked at me.
“How do I look?”
I could only nod.
“I want you to look at that magazine until you have seen every picture. Try to memorize it. You’re going to need to know every trick. I gotta run but we’ll talk about this a lot. I gotta get you ready. Don’t want you to be a pansy.”
Uncle Ball grabbed a jacket, pulled it on, and was gone.
The jacket was royal blue, too.
Jesse Teller 
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