Story of Me

Chapter One

Story of Me

In the year of 1959 I became an American, technically speaking mind you, but an American all the same. My father was an American, my mother was an American, my older brother, youngest brother, and youngest sister...all Americans. But for my oldest younger sister and I it was different. I mean, it's not like we were from another planet or anything, although my older brother Steve would probably argue that point. He thought I was a butt head. I'm not quite sure what that meant, but I'm pretty sure it meant non humanoid.

 But as to my questionable citizen ship, technically speaking, it was oil, that black, sticky, obnoxiously smelly substance that shot up from the bowels of our mother planet like a fountain of youth.

It sent my father packing  all his belongings, his one son, and his reluctant wife, to some land so foreign to them that she, my mother, sat down and cried for two weeks.

Venezuela, it was the land of...well, just about everything wonderful a kid could ever want.

 And that's where mine and my sister's story began .

You see, we were the fortunate two to be born there. 

 I suppose that might explain our slowness of minds.

 I don't think their delivery service was the best. 

 I think they still use those salad spoons to help retrieve the infant unborn into this cold cruel world of ours. 

 But to me, Venezuela was paradise.

 I mean, it was summer year round. That meant swimming, fishing, throwing rocks at hornets nest while your faithful stray dog stood confidently beside you thinking you knew best and...okay, I have to admit, that last part wasn't so smart.

I have to give it to my brother and his hoodlum friends, they pulled a good one over my innocent naivety.

“Hey butt head, bees don't sting little kids.”

Liar. My face swell up like a pumpkin. As for my faithful companion, I never saw him again.

Some companion. He abandon me just over a few little bees, and just when I needed most.

I heard he got run over a week later. I guess if that old dog had a choice he'd probably pick the bees over being squashed by that truck any day. You can recover from a few bee stings. A crushed skull...let's just say, the odds are not in your favor.

And thus ended my first bee encounter. I learned a lot from that lesson. Never, no matter how much you want to, never trust your older brother.

When I was ten and a half years old my parents had had enough. Our paradise had become a den of civil unrest, revolution, and political instability.

I thought it was kinda' neat because every time there was government coup the citizens threw a carnival.

That could only mean one thing...free candy.

Show me a kid who doesn't like free candy and I'll show you...well, I don't really have anything interesting to show, just take my word for it.

Carnival time was particularly fun because the candy was being tossed out by beautiful, and scantily dressed girls.

Bare skin was everywhere.

 Our mothers made us cover our eyes so we wouldn't go blind. 

It was a common belief in those days that looking upon such carnal deviancy caused all sorts of horrible things to happen.

 Optometrist had a field day with this one. 

 "See ya' been lookin at the girlies again aye Mikie."

 Optometrist, ha, what do they know.

Show me a boy who...never mind, I think we've already gone over that.

And so it was that civil unrest led to further civil unrest. My father once again packed up all our belongings, five kids, we had multiplied since arriving, and his loving wife, who was by now settled and happy in her surroundings, and we headed back north to the good ole US of A.

As we turned to leave I could hear chants of “Gringo go home.”

Funny thing was, I was home.

Author's Note

This is a true story. The others that may follow may stretch the boundaries between reality and fiction.
Sometimes you gotta add a little color.

Reviews

[kmartell]

This is better than a story about Patton driving through Europe. Thanks. No reason to be serious, I am in my 60's and have little time for serious

[Bo Lanier]

wow! wonderful! i can see myself right there with you and it's only the beginning. sorry to hear of what happened to your little buddy.

[Sami Khalil]

Even if you stretch the boundaries, I still like your style and short stories. This is no exception...Bravo....

[Woody]

interesting true story told in your unique style. quite humourous. bees don't sting little kids? that's a mean brother you've got there :)

[Marie]

I believe this is a trues story. I think you were lucky--to know a different culture for a while, and probably pick up anoher language a well.