Well, more stories about my family…
The summer before 2nd Grade, we lived in Burns, Oregon. It’s gotten much bigger now, but, my memories of it are, hot, desert, and not much else.
We lived in a small apartment, and because my Mom took a nap every day (Heaven help the child who disturbed her during naptime), we (my brother John and I) had to stay in our room and be quiet. We usually took turns jumping between the beds, so that the alligators who were in the water in between them, couldn’t get us.
It was that summer we met, "The Ghost of Weary"… he lived in our closet. During the day it was fun and fine, but at night… my damned brother slept,… I kept an eye on that closet.
There was a girl who lived down the street, she was big for her age, and over weight. I remember, we made an attempt to be friendly, but for some reason, she took a dislike to me….(might have been my smart mouth and thinking I was a very mature almost 7 yr old).
I was out walking, don’t remember where, but she came over and proceeded to tell me how she was gonna beat the crap outta me, (how to win friends and influence people!) lmao
I was small for my age, and skinny, she could have snapped me like a twig. My brother John runs up and yells, "Run Steph, I’ll take care of her!" (He’s all of 4, maybe almost 5 years old) I ran down the street to the house of a boy I was friends with and grabbed his Father, told him my brother was going to be hurt, to come with me. He came with me, and when we got to where they had been, we found my brother, calmly walking back.
To this day I have no idea what happened after I ran for help, but, she didn’t bother me for the rest of the summer. lol
John had a twisted sense of humor. Our brother Grant, next in line after John, used to tease our sister Catherine (born after Grant), constantly. He’s the one that told her she would die from eatting the green apple. She remembers saying, I’m gonna tell Mom and Dad when they get home… his reply, (calmly) "oh no, you’ll be dead already". "You’ll be dead long before Mom and Dad get home… they’ll never know why you died…" (I think she was 6 or 7 at the time, he was 9)
He used to enjoy telling her she was adopted, so, John told him that HE was the one that was adopted, and his real Mother’s name was, Rosita Gonzales… and from that day he’d be talking and would say things like… "Well, your REAL Mother, Rosita Gonzales, would have liked that" or, "Your real Mother, Rosita Gonzales, asked us to take care of you."
At Christmas he even put a present under the tree, the tag said, To;Grant, From; Your Real Mother, Rosita Gonzales.
See, mind games, they loved mind games, putting that small amount of doubt or fear into the other’s mind.
One year my Dad’s school district had a big Christmas party, and with it, a ‘white elephant’ gift exchange. He ended up getting a live turkey chick. My Grandfather raised all kinds of birds, so, my Dad gave it to him. Grandpa let it roam free on his property, but, the boys in the family (my family and my aunt’s families) would tease it constantly. It was a fun game my brother’s and the cousins would play… it WAS fun until that turkey got huge, AND mean as hell. Grandpa still let it roam free, and thought it was funny that now the tormented was the tormentor. It would attack the boys, and or anyone caught outside without Grandpa to protect them (and he was usually absent).
When we went to visit, we would all run to the door, each trying to make sure to be one of the first ones in, because, the last poor bastard was usually locked out and left to the, not so tender mercies of that Turkey.
My sister says she remembers being relieved when she heard that it had finally been butchered.
To this day when the cousins are all together, if that turkey is brought up, they all start comparing scars… which in my opinion were well deserved. lol
How’s that Kay? I have more but I guess I’ll save them for later. LOL BIG HUGS, Steph