The Ultimate Test

Once in a while something from your past— deep in your past— comes flying out of the shadows and hits you on the side of the head like a snowball with a stone in the middle of it. Today I was trying to invent an interesting name for a new character in something I’m writing. Out of the blue (and for the first time in decades) I remembered the interesting peculiar name of my seventh grade math teacher. He was probably the first openly gay man I ever knew and since this was way back in the early 60's, that was a brave thing to be and do. He was very Southern and a real gentleman in both manner and dress. Every day he wore a beautiful dark suit crisp white shirt and tie and a different colored silk pocket square. I remember that distinctly. But what I didn’t remember and which whacked me in the head today was he used to give us lots of quizzes which we naturally hated. When we’d complain about the unending number, he would jokingly say, “If you think my quizzies are bad, you should see my testies.’ So help me God, he used to say that all the time.