We were up in my grandmother’s big oak trees, the ones in front with the moss hanging down like witches’ hair.  A Tarzan movie had come on the Early Show and me and my Cousin Johnny Wray were up there hanging on limbs with our shirts off making muscles.  Johnny Wray could sound just like Tarzan when he called the elephants.  That was the coolest thing that Tarzan did. 

The problem with playing with Johnny Wray was that he always had to be the cool dude.  When we played Gunsmoke, I had to be Chester, when we played Wild Wild West, he was always Jim West and I had to be Artemus Gordon.  The worst was when we played Roy Rogers.  I had to be Pat.  It was not that much fun at all, but if Johnny Wray didn’t get his way he would pitch a mortal fit.  Then, Grandmother or Aunt Susannah would come out and tell me to just let Johnny Wray be who he wants to be, that it wasn’t worth all the aggravation.

With Tarzan though, I put my foot down.  I wasn’t going to be Boy and I damn sure wasn’t going to be Cheetah.  Johnny Wray’s face started to ball up.  Then he started to scream.  My Momma always said that Johnny Wray was spoiled rotten so I said, “You’re spoiled rotten Johnny Wray!”  Well, that pissed him off and he knocked me out of the tree.  I screamed and ran into the house.  He followed me.  He was screaming and crying too.  Aunt Susannah was running the vacuum cleaner in the living room.

“Now, now, what is all of this commotion?”

“Bobby said I was spoiled rotten!”

“He is spoiled rotten!”

“Where did you hear that?” asked Aunt Susannah putting down the vacuum nozzle and staring at me with her hands on her hips.

“Everybody says so,” I asserted.  “Granny, Aunt Florence, Uncle William, even Momma!”

She suddenly looked very hurt, like this was all news to her, but I couldn’t see how it was since she was the reason that Johnny Wray was spoiled rotten in the first place.  “Momma, can you come in here a minute?” she said.  Granny was in the kitchen doing something.  She came through the door wiping her hands on her apron.

“What is it, Darling?” said Granny.

“Bobby says you said that my Johnny Wray is spoiled rotten!  Do you really believe that?”

“Well Honey, It’s right hard to deny.  You give that boy anything on earth he asks for.  You know as well as I do it’s so.  He don’t know what it’s like not to get his way.”

Aunt Susannah flew into a rage.  I’d never seen her like that.  “Johnny Wray, what is the problem?” she said.

“Bobby won’t let me be Tarzan.”

“Bobby why can’t Johnny Wray be Tarzan, why can’t y’all both be Tarzan?”

“Because there’s only one Tarzan,” I told her.  “Johnny Wray always gets to be the cool one.  It ain’t fair!”

“Johnny Wray, let your Cousin be Tarzan a while and then you can be Tarzan.”

“No!” screamed Johnny Wray emphatically.  “If I can’t be Tarzan, I ain’t going to play.”

“You see what you’ve done created?” Granny said.

“You really do think that my boy is spoiled rotten, don’t you.  Well, me and Johnny Wray can just go on home.  Johnny Wray, run pack up your suitcase and get ready to go!  We ain’t about to stay here and be insulted.  Run on!”

Johnny Wray gave Granny a smug look and then took off upstairs as if he’d been vindicated.  A few minutes later they were in their car and headed back down to Orangeburg.  I looked at Granny.  She looked at me.  Then she smiled and said, “Now you can be Tarzan all afternoon if you want to.”

– James William Gardner