No Supper Tonight
With empty tummies, we climbed the chipped
linoleum steps. At the top of the stairs,
Mom gave our backsides a slight shove and stated,
“Get into bed; there will be no supper tonight.”
I spotted the picture of my brother and me as we passed the bookshelf in the hallway, and I wondered how things had gone so wrong. |
In our bedroom, I ventured to the window; the sun was shining behind
our big red barn. I stretched to catch a glimpse of the damaged fences, but it had happened on the other side of the barn.
I crawled into bed with my clothes on.
I was sweaty and my hands were dirty.
My
jammies were downstairs in the bathroom....
hanging on my special hook.
I had never gone to bed in my clothes
before.
Should I take my socks off?
Brother stared at me from his bed. It was
summer, but his covers were pulled up to his chin. We had nothing to say to each
other. I felt isolated from the
world. I tried closing my eyes.
Slowly, the room darkened as the sun did its evening thing, and there was a knock on the door. Dad came in with a tray: saltine
crackers and two glasses of milk. He sat on the edge of the bed and helped us
drink the milk. We had never had milk in bed before. He helped us with our prayers,
said nothing about the day’s events, patted us on the head, and left the room.
I felt a little better.
What had we done?
Big brother, at five, decided to show me, his younger sister
by thirteen months, how to drive the farm tractor. He pulled me up and showed
me where to stand as he sat on the iron seat, stretched to shove in the clutch,
and worked the throttle with his fingers. Dad’s Oliver rumbled
and came to life. Our excitement grew.
As he released the clutch, the tractor catapulted across the farmyard. Chickens
squawked, and the family dogs started barking. My tiny fingers clutched the wheel well and
the back of the tractor seat as we bounced along. We hit a rut or two, and the monster took a different
direction and headed straight for our massive barn.
Fences were flattened, and the barnyard cows kicked up their heels and fled to the corn fields as we blasted into the side of the barn and jolted to a stop—the tractor silenced.
Fences were flattened, and the barnyard cows kicked up their heels and fled to the corn fields as we blasted into the side of the barn and jolted to a stop—the tractor silenced.
My mother ran from the house screaming --apron strings
flying.
Dad scrambled from the tool shed and
carefully lifted us down.
In a frenzy, Mother scurried us to the house making
unintelligible sounds. I’m not sure what
the hurry was. Although speechless, we both could walk and apparently were
uninjured.
Interestingly enough, the most vivid memory was going to bed
with no supper. It hadn’t happened before. It never happened again.
Mom took this picture weeks later.
Notice who is in the driver's seat!
No comments:
Post a Comment