NOTE: The following non-fiction essay is borrowed from the book “A Family United Amongst Itself”, which was written but primarily edited by Fred Blahnik and published in 2012.
The Peculiar Balloon
By Joseph R. Blahnik
Young Joey Blahnik, standing at the far edge of the country schoolyard, shook his head in wonderment; he just couldn’t believe his incredible good fortune! He continued staring down admiringly at the object nestled in the palm of his outstretched hand. It was quite unlike any other balloon he had ever seen before in his short life span. Long, narrow, tannish-green in color, still damp from the morning dew–but lacking the narrow neck and bulbous configuration characteristic of the other balloons he was more familiar with–Joey furtively looked around the playground to see whether anyone had seen him pick the mysterious item up from the ground.
SHOOT!!!!!!!!
Three bigger boys–his older brother Jim and even-more-elderly neighbors Ronnie Macal and Bobby Wendorf–were standing nearby and had witnessed him snatch the odd balloon from the brownish prairie grass.
Dang it all, there went his secrecy!
Joey thought briefly about stealthily tucking the balloon into his front trousers pocket and carrying it into the school house with him, but then thought better of the idea. Mrs. Nelson was a nice pleasant lady and a fine teacher as well, but if she caught him playing with the strange balloon in her strict classroom…….well, there was no telling what the prim lady might do! Still, this new prize belonged only to him. He had found it all by himself, and thus he shouldn’t have to worry about those big boys–who typically bullied their way around the schoolyard acting like they were kings of the world–shoving him to the ground and thereupon stealing the peculiar balloon from him, even as he howled in displeasure. Besides, blood being thicker than water and all that other trite nonsense, his big brother Jim was there to back his claim to ownership too if push ever came to shove.
Obviously the country school preceptor would confiscate it from him immediately and stick the thing in the top drawer of her wooden desk, but then he probably would face additional humiliating punishment for willful misbehavior–not to mention his parents would almost certainly be notified and he would consequently have to face their venomous wrath later at home. No, the best thing for him right now would be to just blow the balloon up out here on the playground and it enjoy it to the max until the moment arrived when that accursed school bell rang, signifying the official beginning to yet another boring academic day.
Joey was outside relishing a few minutes of exercise before classes began on this particular day. The other students attending the school–neighbor kids spanning the first through eighth grades–were clustered outdoors with him. It was a crisp Monday morning in September of 1949. Joey Blahnik–six years old the previous January and now going strong on seven–was a curious first grader at Mower County District #101 country school, and it was his first year of formal education given the fact kindergarten wasn’t routinely offered in any Minnesota lyceums back in those Neolithic days. The diminutive school building was located five miles northeast of Austin, Minnesota on a standard one acre plot of land with a single in-drive, and although its location wasn’t truly remote…..the bantam-sized structure did enjoy an inarguable degree of rural privacy.
All fourteen of them…….
Joey had to smirk again when he thought of his pure luck in finding the balloon on such a gorgeous autumn morning. So often he had to “suck hind tit” behind all the bigger boys at school as they continually pushed and bossed him around and relegated him to chronic second-class status, but this time he had managed to outdo those tormentors. He had found the balloon first, it was his alone, and hence he surely wasn’t in any mood to share his treasure with any of those older scofflaws.
Joey finally tired of his gloating and drew the balloon up towards his mouth, inhaled a deep breath, puffed his cheeks way out like a fat pocket gopher’s, and prepared to purse his lips around the neck of the translucent rubber vessel.
He glanced over, and the older neighbor boys were grinning at him now–big, shit-eating, Cheshire grins—and giggling conspiratorially as they pointed at the peculiar balloon with their fingers. He heard Bobby Wendorf whisper to Jim, who was standing nearby, “Pssssssssttttt, Blahnik…..doesn’t your little brother even know what the hell he’s holding in his hand over there? That smelly son-of-a-bitchin’ thing was stretched over some guy’s cock while he was humping a woman!!! Are you actually going to let your little brother stick that filthy thing into his mouth and blow it up?!?!”
Jim spoke up automatically then, snorting gruffly “DON’T DO THAT, JOEY!!! THROW THAT DAMNED THING BACK ON THE GROUND WHERE YOU FOUND IT!!!!!” while he shook his head back and forth in feigned disgust–even though he had never seen such a weird contrivance before in his life either, and had absolutely no inkling what it actually was until having been enlightened just seconds earlier.
Only then did Joey peer more closely at the enigmatic balloon he held in his hand, squished down on its soft latex, and noticed there was some sort of puke-green liquid squirming about in the very tip of the receptacle.
Joey Blahnik was holding a soiled condom inches away from his mouth……
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