22

Summer




1983



Cousins are odd, dontcha think? I had many cousins but Moma wouldn't let me go play with them very often. I always wondered why Moma was like she was. My house was at the end of a long dirt road and up that road was a slew of my cousins. There were Stacy and Belinda, the two blondes that were seperated by only a year in age. Ben,David and Jennifer, brunettes, who had about two years between them in age, they lived only yards from Belinda and Stacey. On down the road lived Greg and Peter and their invalid sister Denise. Then there was Calvin, the bully, who lived down the street on the other side from Belinda and Stacy. In the middle of them all was the house of their grandmother which was my aunt. she had a garden, pigs, chickens and cows and often worked with my grandmother to put up pork, chicken parts and eggs for us to eat.



But I guess that is not the point here. I wanted to play with my cousins so bad and my brother was allowed to, of course I didn't understand this at all. One day, he, Greg and Peter were going bike riding down the 'big road'. The 'big road' was just the paved road that Moma never let me get near. Well, I begged her and daddy to let me go ride bikes with them and finally they said I could. Seeing that my big brother, Allen was going, I should be okay.



So, we left, coasting down the big hill that was our driveway. We rode for a long way with Greg, then Peter, then me and then Allen as he brought up the rear. I was happy enough with that. I loved the way the wind swept through my long auburn hair as I pedeled just as fast as I could. I loved the way my little brown dress flapped in the air and against the bike. I loved the blue of the sky and never noticed when my chain started to lock just a bit.



We started coasting down a big hill and something happened. I was flying...I mean, I was leaving my bike and flying thru the air. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground with my brother on top of me and I was in pain.

There are no words to truly explain the sensation that I felt. After my brother got off me, I stood and I knew something was wrong with my body. I held up my arm and it was bad...it was bent in a very unnatural angle. Something pointy was pushing through my skin on the top of my forearm. I grew dizzy and my mind began to race but the only think I truly worried about was getting into trouble with daddy. I pressed my broken arm against my dress and pushed with all I had. I was going to put that bone back where it belonged, I thought, before daddy seen it. I sat down upon the ground as my brother and cousins all yelled and was freaked out by my predicament. I heard only some of the conversation, they were worried about my daddy too and if he was going to be furious with them.



I stood and began walking in the direction of my house. And I pushed against my little dress onto the hardness of my knee cap. I pushed through the pain of the broken bone, but I could not put what was wrong into right. I began to cry, not from pain but from dread of my father and mother. I knew I was in trouble now.



Some neighbors found us, walking back home with bikes in hand. NO one wanted to ride them and mine was left on the side of the road until later. The hospital that they took me too was not equiped to fix broken arms and so they packed my broken arm with ice and sent me to Memphis, Lebonuer's Children's hospital. There I watched in horror as the doctor shoved the bone back in place and wrapped it with gauze.



Daddy kept scolding me for crying so loud.



Fall



1983



I don't know why and I don't remember exactly how it started but I knew....somehow...that I was going to die. It haunted me...at nine years old, death haunted me.I could feel it pass by me when I was registering for school. I could feel it in the hallways when I was squinting to see the writing on the bulletin board. I knew death was there, right beside me but I didn't know why he wouldn't take me.



Fall



1983



When I swallowed i could hear all the little bones inside my head pop, when my sleeves on my blouse were too tight, I imagined that my circulation was being cut off and my hands would fall off as well eventually. I cried most days in my little desk in the corner. Most days, I didn't last past third period. Daddy had expected as much and so he waited in the parking lot for me about an hour after the bus dropped me off. some days, I could feel my heart stop. I would drop my pencil and fumbled with my hands. I would feel my pulse and death would make the pulse go away. I would shreik and run from teh room. Ms Perkins would yell, "oh let her go..she has a mental problem."



I knew death wanted me...you have to understand the reality of it and how death made me feel. I turned my head and the ligaments popped inside my neck. I knew my neck was breaking right then and there, so I would stop looking at my school book and just stare at the ceiling. As long as I kept my head still, I wouldnt break my neck. I hated me but I was afraid to let death have me. I think daddy would be mad.



Fall



1983



They took me to a child phsychologist to see what was wrong with me. While I was there, my wrists started to bleed and I knew my sleeves were too tight. I started to claw at my arms while the doctor talked to me. He kept trying to get my attention away from my arms but he failed. The nurse had to bring me something to make me calm down. I looked at ink blots, talked about all my neighbors and friends. Then, he sent me to get a physical. The medical doctor pulled down my panties and examed my private place. I dont know why he done that.



Fall



1983



It started getting really bad sometime in this year. I hated my teacher because she was always good to the little blonde girls and she looked at me with some sort of disgust. She had just found out that she was pregnant and she was very short tempered with me. Everything I asked her, she would speak back to me as if I was not worthy of her attention. I kept trying to be normal with death looking over my shoulder...but it is hard when you know you aren't alone in the corner desk. I remember this girl, Patty and that she was very quiet. I thought that since she was so quiet and seemed sweet that maybe she would love to have a friend. I remember walking up to her and simply asking her if I could be her friend. But she made fun of me and said no. I asked her to tell me the reason why she did not like me. All the kids laughed at me and the teacher looked on in disgust.



Fall



1983



so, the thing is...there was this test and we had to write the questions from the blackboard and then answer them. My desk was in the back corner of the room and I couldn't see the questions and so I decided to ask someone to read them to me. I did not want to cheat. The teacher saw me talking and assumed that I was trying to cheat. She stood and called my name. I looked up and saw her normal disgusted look. I brought my paper to the front of the class and placed it on her desk. I tried to explain what I had done and she wouldn't listen. She took my paper from my hand and put a big red zero on the top of it. I cried.

Then went home and told daddy. I could feel death hovering over me the whole way home. He even sat next to me and stroked my broken arm. It started to itch.



You know...death is not so bad...he just wants to say hello to some of us. I think he wants to be friends



Fall



1983



I don't really want to say much about the lecture my father gave that bitch. But I knew my daddy and the torture that he could dish out. I have felt the belt of fire...hell....horrible pain...and yet, I felt some sort of satisfaction. I sat in the corner of the principals office for three hours and listened to my father tell Ms. Perkins what a failure she was. That poor woman cried and held her pregnant belly. She was even backed into the corner at one point trying to get to the phone. I have no idea where the principal was.



Spring



1984



For the rest of the year, Ms. Perkins treated me like her favorite student. I think she was just terrified of my father. I dont remember everything he said to her. I was trying to go to a happy place then, much like my happy place now. Death watches from the playground though and I understand that he will come again someday.