Rejection, is a bitter pill to swallow and painful to accept. It’s human nature.

I recall my very first rejection other then being told “no” by a parent. The incident  …

It was 1962, I was in the second grade at Columbian School in East Orange, New Jersey.  

Her name was Joy, an Asian American. In ‘62 I would’ve said Oriental, but today I believe it to be politically incorrect. We were in the same second grade class seated one row and two desks apart.

She was smart. Very smart. No matter the subject, whenever the teacher asked a question … 

“Who would like to come up to the board and work out this multiplication problem?” 

Joy’s hand shot up like a rocket, waving about so the teacher wouldn’t miss it.

Me? Not my hands! I would sit on them so they wouldn’t dare move. I made them brainless. 

In class, Joy was quiet and sensitive. On the playground during recess, she was the complete opposite. She could play kickball better than any girl and as good as any boy. If Joy was “it” in a game of tag, no one stood a chance to avoid her. She was quick to juke and jive, faster then us boys. 

Once the bell rang to go back to class, Joy became prim and proper once again. She’d straighten out her dress, fix her hair with her hands and wipe the dust from her shiny black school shoes. Although she played with such abandon, Joy was very careful not to scuff those shoes. 

Remember this was 1962, so when the bell rang and school was done for the day, we walked home. There were no car pools or school buses assigned for us to ride. Just our feet. There were five of us that walked home together. We’d horse around the whole walk home, kicking piles of leaves, throwing fallen acorns or jumping in puddles after a rain storm. 

Joy was one of the five and lived in an apartment over the stores on Ampere Blvd. I lived in a two-family house on 18th Street, less than one block away. 

One day when we reached the apartment, I asked her if she wanted to come to my house and play until it was time for dinner. She said, “Okay, sure.”

“Okay, see ya later,” I said. 

I was floating on cloud nine, happier then a bird pecking on a French fry. I ran the rest of the way home. 

Love-struck by Cupids arrow, I immediately started tidying up my room. It had to be perfect for Joy, Miss Prim & Proper.

I started with my GI Joes. I lined them up after they were fully dressed in their army fatigues, guns in hand ready to protect us against any invaders or trespassers.

Of course there was the radio I was building. I remember hiding it because I didn’t want her to think I was a spy. The building process wasn’t too far along. All I had so far was an empty cylinder of Ajax cleanser and a five inch piece of green wire snaking out of a hole I poked in the center of the cylinder. Yup, an empty Ajax cylinder and a piece of wire. I was well on my way to building a homemade transistor radio.

Then there was my detective agency. I was the boss and Ted (my teddy bear) was my partner. We were real gumshoes. Nothing got past us. My desk had a sign, so we were official -

        John’s Detective Agency

My older sister helped with the spelling.

So I was all set. My room was ready. Mom made us some Kool-Aid. It was only 3:45. Just waiting for Joy to come over.

Tick … tick … tick

Yup, just waiting for her to ring the bell, 4:00pm.

Tick … tick … tick

Any minute now she’ll be coming upstairs to play, 4:15pm. 

Tick … tick … tick

Right about now, she’s probably crossing the street corner, 4:45pm. 

Joy never came. The ice in the Kool-Aid glasses melted. I was heart broken, crushed. 

The next day, I walked to school by myself, avoiding my friends, especially Joy.

In class I remained quiet, sitting on my hands. I wanted to go unnoticed hoping to shrink into my desk.

Mid morning came, it was time for recess. I didn’t want to go outside, but the teacher left me no choice. Once outside, I sat on the brick stairs, watching my friends running around, playing.

I was devastated. My heart was torn apart. I would never be the same boy again and she didn’t care. I cleaned my room for this girl. 

“Hey, Johnny. Want to play dodgeball with us?” 

I looked up and there she stood. Joy in her pretty pink dress, white socks and shiny black shoes, smiling at me.

Suddenly my world was looking much better.