Old Enough
Truth has so many lessons, so many meanings and the lord knows it's a debatable subject when sitting around the supper table. I always make sure I look busy eating; nobody knows what I see in a day. Truth is, I ran straight to the railroad tracks after breakfast this morning, cut through tall, dry, grass where clumps of broken beer bottles and cans swell up on unkempt lots, where people have dumped ole fridge-a-dares, washing machines and just about anything they don't want. I was told never to do such a thing, that is, go to the railroad tracks. By being obedient in other ways, on time for meals, helping carry groceries, running the vacuum cleaner down the long hallway to Paw-Paw's room, well, I earned that big, little, title of "Trust-worthy." Truth is I am trust worthy when it comes down to it; if I hear someone passing hearsay around about Paw-Paw, I correct them or I run home and tell him. So, at the railroad tracks I saw a man drunk at 8.30 in the morning today, a little boy crying with his Mom dragging him behind her with no shoes and some good tires to make swings out of; I have a swing made from wood, but somebody could make a swing if they wanted to. The drunk man looked familiar. I stared at him until he growled; I jumped backwards behind a poison ivy covered oak tree and well, that would draw some attention to me later on, but it shook off that ole smelly hobo for a bit. I am eight and smart but my teacher told Paw-Paw I talk too much; I am fascinated by hobo's. I think about hopping on the back of a real caboose, hanging on like I do at the schoolyard's merry-go-round, screaming my fool head off. I want to see what's out there beyond the sycamore and brow beating summer heat. Paw-Paw loves Jimmy Dean sausage; this afternoon I saw a trailer bed with Jimmy Dean written fancy across it; I almost blew it and told Paw-Paw. That's how much I talk. Learning to be quiet at the supper table is my goal for the summer. Pearl, Paw-Paw's help, sets the table for us and he always tells her to take a plate home for herself. She's pretty with chocolate milk coloured skin that is as smooth as a satin pillow case. When here, she wears her hair pulled back in a small coal bun right at the nape of her neck with a net over it. A little charcoal bun in a net. My hair flies all over the place until the day before school starts up. That's when Pearl takes me into town and has it cut into a pixie with bangs. I don't look forward to that day. For now, summer is endless, miles from here, full of nothing to do day's. Before supper, Pearl always checks me for ticks and hoses me down so I don't track mud in. She is playful with me. I love her; I wonder if Paw-Paw loves her, too. It's lonely sometimes with just me and Paw-Paw; his grand-paw eyes grow heavy after supper and he falls asleep right quick, sprawled out on the gold, plush sofa he snores away and I sneak around the house looking for treasures. I am a tom-cat, meow! I am a spy for "Get Smart" and use radar. Suddenly, I drop down on the floor crawling, I am a hostage escaping through secret tunnels under Paw-Paw's bed; I am a pilot steering my jet over the endless tree tops, beyond the drunken hobo's and rusty, iron train tracks. Whoooa! I can see Pearl shucking corn and singing, I go higher and higher above the midnight street lamps, the moon is full of cheese, smiling by my side; I am soaring until I plop from my parachute into my marshmallow bed where I lay until dawn dreaming.
Comments (12)
"I survived. And while I may never be fully Okay, let the life that has returned in my eyes distract you, still Not forgetting the pain I felt, or the pain I caused." This sums it all. Wow! Beautiful choice of words. Well composed.
Beautiful and unselfish thoughts! Congrats on TS!🥳
🔥🔥🔥🔥👌👌👌Cade You nailed it! 💪 Great job, seriously! 👌 https://vocal.media/authors/yusuf-alam
very very lovely
I love the tender hand your word choice brings to this first-person narration. You've given your reader enough to feel so many emotions while simultaneously giving your reader enough space to fill in their own blanks. Evocative and emotional. Beautifully written.
congratulations on your Top Story!
Hugs...
Oh goodness, this made me tear up. My best friend went through/is still going through this with her daughter. There are so many emotions tied up. Beautiful work highlighting this :)
So poignantly seen from both perspectives. "Dad, while I was sleeping, I heard you quietly Say that you worry about me, and That you want me to be okay." Thank you for this beautiful poem.
A beautiful one to read many times..! Amazing and incredible... Your words are really heart-touching and so deep and true.. loved your poem..
Yep, this is a keeper, one to reread many times. Touching with a sprinkle of hope.
That line "let the life that has returned in my eyes distract you" - hit me. Oh man.