“On Saturday at ballet class.” Brown Owl replied before prompting us to get on with the task at hand; that being stringing the paper flowers into long garlands which will decorate the float and carriage. Eventually we changed back into our Brownie uniforms and prepared to leave. “I’ll see you all at Miss Jarovski’s on Saturday where we’ll have a full dress rehearsal.” Brown Owl said, “…and I’m certain this year’s procession is going to be great success!” she added.
As usual, my mother was waiting for me outside, as was some of the other girl’s parents. Brown Owl accompanied me and I told my mother that I’m going to be May queen. Predictably, Mother was over the moon, but I was surprised to discover that she already knew. It later transpired that the parents of the eight nominees decided amongst themselves which one should be selected and the vote was split between myself and Patricia Baxter. Brown Owl cast the deciding vote and since it was her initiative that lead to the inclusion of boys, she opted for a boy. “And what’s this?” Mother asked when I presented her with the basket of dried flowers.
“I made it.” I replied.
“It’s beautiful!” she said. I suspected she was only saying that because it really wasn’t that good. “It’ll look lovely on your windowsill.” she added.
“I don’t want it in my room.” I retorted. “It’s for you.”
“Well that’s very sweet Vincent.” Mother smiled. I felt like such a ninny as we walked home with me carrying the small basket of colourful dried flowers in one hand and my Mother holding the other. “Are you going to miss going to Brownies?” she asked.
“A bit.” I replied. “…but I am looking forward to being a Cub again.” I added.
“I bet you are.” she smiled. “And after Monday, it’ll all be over… I bet you’re looking forward to that too.” she knowingly added.
We arrived home and Mother prompted me to tell my Father and sister Judy the news. Father said he was very proud of me and Judy said she couldn’t wait to see me wearing a proper dress. “Will he get to keep it afterwards?” Judy asked.
Three words sprang to mind, being ‘I hope not’. “Of course!” Mother replied, before showing off the dried flower arrangement I’d made at Brownies. “He’s got a new badge too.” she added.
It seemed like a waste of time but Mother insisted that I stitch my new badge to the sleeve of my Brownie uniform. “It’ll only take five minutes.” she stated. So I took myself to my room, removed my brown frock and sat in my underwear tacking and stitching the badge on. I felt quite proud that I’d got eleven badges in only a couple of months. It took me well over a year to get that many in Cubs. Once stitched on, I donned my nutty brown frock and returned downstairs. “I’m going to miss having a Brownie around the house.” Mother said after inspecting my new badge.
“Brown Owl did say we could stay if we wanted to.” I informed her, before restating that I can’t wait to go back to Cubs. Judy suggested that I transfer all my Brownie badges to my cub scout uniform, which would give me an impressive sleeve full. “I don’t want my dancing, shopping and sweeping up badges on my cubs uniform!” I grumbled. “They’ll tease me enough as it is after going to Brownies.”
“Well stay at Brownies then.” Mother suggested. I reminded her that I’d rather go back to Cubs.
At school the next day I received the usual handful of taunts from the kids who’d seen me in my Brownie uniform, carrying a basket of flowers “…and holding his mummy’s hand!” Carl Bradshaw revealed. I made it clear that I’m no longer a Brownie and would be returning to Cubs the following week. One member of my Cub Scout group told me that I wouldn’t be welcome and called me a sissy. Although annoying, such taunts are water off a duck’s back to me now. Word had also got around that it’ll me who’ll be crowned as May Queen, something my teachers claimed I should be very proud of. It’s hard to be proud of something I never wanted to do, especially when it garners a certain amount of animosity from my fellow classmates. Some of the boys think I’m becoming a sissy and some of the girls think I’m trespassing on their turf.
