Looking back on my childhood, I realize my parents did the best they could with the tools they had and with their own demons. But it has always caused me to pause that I perceived something was missing.
From an early age I had concerns about my parents ability to look after and protect my brothers and myself. They appeared a bit at loose ends, did not enjoy each other’s company and at times I felt we were a burden. My father would stare angrily at me, offered little encouragement and I often thought he felt trapped in his marriage and into raising children. He had issues with his parents and it appeared the one thing he took from his father was the willingness to beat his own kids. Both my parents complained constantly about the other, their own parents and their in-laws. This gave me a feeling of uneasiness, as I felt they were preoccupied with their own disappointments and not focused on keeping us protected.
My mother’s parents lived in the tiny hamlet of Dorchester, Texas with a yard full of chickens. They had no bathroom and utilized an outhouse at the back of the property. The neighbor also had chickens and a large, crazed, aggressive rooster. Generally, I enjoyed visiting my grandparents and my grandmother’s parents also lived in Dorchester. They were all very kind to my brothers and me and it was usually a happy visit.
One downside was the neighbor’s rooster. He would come into our yard and attack my little brother Bob, who was around 4 and usually wore only short pants in the hot summer months. Bob would avoid the yard, but when finally forced to use the privy, would attempt to out run the rooster, who would spur and peck Bob’s legs. Bob bled and cried…I cried and begged my parents and grandparents to do something. Their totally unsatisfactory reply was Bob needed to be more careful, he needed to avoid the rooster, there was not too much to be done, please watch after him, after all you are 7 and older. I wept anew from frustration and despair over their perceived indifference.
One day my parents and grandparents were down the road at the great grandparents’ home and I was alone with Bob. He had to go to the outhouse and as he came running back, the rooster was running after him. My grandmother kept a loaded 410 gauge shotgun by the backdoor in the event of snakes. (A loaded gun around unsupervised children). I waited for Bob to get behind me onto the back porch and for the rooster to run closer. I then fired from about 10 feet away, he exploded and immediately began his journey to rooster hell.
I picked up his sorry carcass, deposited him down the outhouse and covered his remains with a shovel full of the lime from within the privy. I then got a rake and cleaned up the scene of the crime. Bob asked me what happened and I said the rooster went away. He was very pleased and reported the news to my parents who didn’t think anything about it. When the neighbor stopped by looking for his rooster, no one had a clue and the matter was dropped.
I remember the incident as a milestone in my life because I felt I had no where else to turn. I did not believe I could trust my parents to look after us. Over the next 10 years, Bob caught on fire twice, endured skin grafting; a golf club through his cheek ; abundant stitches; nearly severed his index finger while playing with a machete; broken bones and was ultimately hit by a car and killed.
I was not able to be there when my little brother died and I blamed myself. This was a child that needed constant attention and guidance. I felt it was my duty because he was not getting it from my parents and we failed him. He is in heaven now with my ancestors and parents, he is well loved and I believe all are at peace. I am much more at peace, I do believe my parents did the best they were capable of...my little brother was a handful and I have forgiven them. But, it has taken a long time. Dear Lord, please forgive me for my judgmental attitude and please grant me forgiveness.
Amazing heroism for a seven year old.
ReplyDeleteAgreed (above). Amazing heroism and such raw perception. I clearly remember the scars on Bob's legs and the way he walked just a little pigeon toed. The fact that he obviously endured burns that he had ... and showed the compassion that he did for others, including me, ... made him so special to me. And, he obviously had an incredibly, endearing brother in you, a young father figure who made a big impression on him. I've never had any doubt where Bob is. Thank you for sharing...
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