The secret obsession of Timothy Tucker
By Tom Brown
- 2971 reads
Irene 1974
Timothy’s father, Buster Black, worked at the garage. He wore overalls and when he got home they were dirty. He drank brandy and coke and he drank lots of brandy and coke. He spoke once only and he didn’t fight ever. Timothy’s mother came from a family with very high social standing and she herself very well-read. She was very pretty, she worked at a school library.
Timothy’s younger brother was popular at school. He was a sturdy lad. He depended on his brother and he won him many a fight with the bigger boys. The older brother was skinny, awkward, and he had just got his first pair of glasses they were uncomfortable, he felt ugly with them on. Timothy Tucker had understanding far beyond his years. His little mind was very quick he was like lightning. But he had one great weakness. Girls. And on top of that he was terribly shy. The primary school they attended was a dual medium school which meant that the teaching was in both English and in Afrikaans. This primary school has a proud tradition going back well more than a century.
When he was eight and in Std.1 he was in the class of Ms Driver. She wasn’t as bad as it sounds. She had him sit by Daisy. Daisy was to him a creature of a magical beauty. Each time he looked she seemed more beautiful, her long blonde hair ‘specially had a lasting enchantment. Daisy was different from the other girls she had none of the malice and cruelty children often had. He knew instinctively that she would not want to hurt him he was safe.
Daisy was truly gentle. She was quiet, she was peaceful.
Soon Timothy was not attentive in class anymore. He stole glances at her whenever Ms Driver looked away but mostly he stared through the classroom window lost in happy dreams for this new joy he’d discovered. Now and then he touched her by accident- brush her arm or her hair say when she picked up a pencil that had fell. This all to him was a new thing he found the touch very pleasant it was altogether a new sensation. Often when standing in the girls’ row before class little Daisy would comb comb her lovely long long blonde hair.
As the days passed Timothy Tucker’s happiness grew. Some of the girls ‘though started teasing. Amanda was a bit nasty. At each opportunity she smacked him with her ruler, he being unable to defend himself against a little girl. Timothy was now first at the school gate every day. Amanda discovered him by accident all alone at the classroom door one morning, and she let him have it again. With nobody around he swiped her off her feet.
Timothy’s mother was the first to notice there was amiss. At the parents’ day she spoke in confidence with Ms Driver who’d also noticed a change. Timothy’s school performance seemed to have dropped suddenly and was cause for concern for a talented pupil as he, and at that right at the beginning of his academic career.
Timothy’s birthday was coming up. His mother always organised big parties and they made out invitation cards for every one all the kids came. But now this year he didn’t want to invite any of the girls- the only one he invited was Daisy. They wrote the invitations and he handed them out to his friends before school. All of them were very excited his mother gave the best parties by far.
Packing away books after school he shyly and secretly but proudly gave Daisy her own little card. She was so gracious about it, said she would like to come she was looking forward. He felt very happy about inviting his little girl-friend.
The day came sooner than later and the boys had a roaring time with balloons candles birthday cake running around playing games winning prizes and ‘till exhaustion. He noticed that Daisy hadn’t come but they had such a great time he couldn’t be bothered.
At school Daisy apologised so kindly, her mother couldn’t find the house they were driving around looking for it they had to give up in the end. The nice way she spoke and her kindness all made Timothy feel even better about all of this.
But he hardly spoke a word ever of his feelings and his adoration, the teasing got worse, more cruel, Ms Driver got stricter and stricter, he became unhappy in his affection for little Daisy, he started to have of suffering for his love.
xx
Things with the boy got worse and is performance in school deteriorated more and more, still, he refused to talk.
Mrs Black and Ms Driver decided to approach the principal Mr Killus, who said he honestly didn’t think the matter to be so bad but when reminded of the great academic potential of his pupil, he reluctantly said that perhaps they should have a chat with the minister, Rev Steyn.
By this time everybody knew of Timothy Tucker’s secret obsession.
The boy looked Ok to him, just a bit worse for the weather, the same, it certainly was not a religious matter he wouldn’t want to interfere.
A psychiatrist Dr Budd, was consulted and after a visit or so he said look this is a psychological problem, he can’t treat personality disorders with medicine. ‘Though his friend Mr Green has had good success with juvenile problems of the sort.
Mr Green: He bit on his teeth. He fought the tears. He stubbornly refused to talk and he pleaded not to see Mr Green ever again.
Mr Green’s grave concern was the great secrecy of the obsession, he said Timothy could become a menace in later years he might even grow up to be a danger to society and as a last resort he recommended a neurologist, an old friend of his.
Mr Black was approached for the necessary permission for brain surgery. He’d been unaware of all of this commotion about the poor boy’s crush. Mr Black said no, he himself, he’d had similar it would blow over without a doubt it needs no intervention
xx
Daisy was moved to another desk, they were separated. Whenever he could he tried to see her over the other childrens’ heads, stretching, peering, hoping.
From then on Timothy Tucker sighed more often, and his sighs were deeper. For the first time in his little life, he knew of longing.
But all and each had to agree, Daisy had the most beautiful long blonde hair.
xx
To Trudie
'I heard an old religious man
But yesternight declare
That he had found a text to prove
That only God, my dear,
Could love you for yourself alone
And not your yellow hair.'
W.B. Yeats
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