Sunday, August 09, 2015

B&PSM: Eight, maybe, or was it Seven

Bits and Pieces of a Shattered Mind

This is a bit from a work I am working on, that hides very little, and is not meant to be accurate, but just what is left of my works that have been waiting all these years.  So do not take it personal, it is as the title states bits and pieces of a Shattered Mind.

Sometime around the age of eight or so, maybe a little sooner, I met a kid from California, he lived next door to the house of my babysitters house.  Well I did not really get along well with other kids, but this kid was different at least and that was something.  I was what you might call an introvert, and my babysitter Elsie used to have to force me to go outside.  Not because I did not like the outside, two reasons really.  On the other side of the kid from California lived a family, and they had a couple of children that were just a little older than us, and they liked to do mean things to people, especially little kids.  So that was about our connection, comrades against the local bully.  Well they didn’t pick on me too much, because Elsie was a stern woman, though not really to me, and the one time they did, they found out who my brother was, and never did again.  So that left Larry as the sole focus of their frustration, and I figured I could relate to him.  Most of the time I spent my time there listening to the radio, because Elsie let us, and she had three or four children of her own that were near my age, and they listened to the radio too, so we listened to the radio, and I would write.  My sister was there too some of the times, and she got along alright with Elsie’s children, especially a couple of the girls who liked the same boys and rock stars.  Our parents both worked, and for whatever reason, we could not be left at the house alone.

So Larry had a birthday party, and he invited me, as well as a bunch of his other friends, who were children of his mother’s friends, so I did not know them.  We had the obligatory cake and ice cream, and one of the children got sick, so the others went home, after we rushed through the presents.  For whatever reason, someone gave Larry a snow shovel, children sized, and he loved it very much.  We were making piles of snow one day with it and it broke, and he was very upset, and I just could not figure him out, so I let him run to his mother.  She came out and talked to me, saying I owed him a new shovel, and all that, but I could not buy a shovel, and she said she would talk to my mother.  We went over to Elsie’s house, she talked to Elsie, and Elsie made me go back with her, tell Larry I was sorry for breaking his shovel, and that I would get him a new one.  I did these things, and he never said thank you, and we never spoke again until many years later.

This is but a passage, and it may not mean what you think it does, but let it mean what it may, for that is the point, it is broken, and only you know how that will affect you.

Peace
JD

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