* *
*
Rated: EVERYONE
Just then a small girl approached us. She held up a hand in greeting.
"Who is this ?" I asked Susan.
"You should know her." Susan replied cryptically.
I looked at her face and then - it struck me. This was my sister, "Emma."
But then the scene froze and Susan addressed me.
"I'm interrupting this story now because I am understanding what you are writing here to - " and Susan pointed to YOU, the reader. "That this is listed as fiction, not non-fiction, correct ?"
"Yes." I nodded, but then asked, "But what if I write non-fiction as fiction in these chapters ? Because maybe I have such strong memories of them ? Is it permitted I can mix the two ?"
She puzzled her furry nose with a paw for a moment. "I - suppose - that would be permitted."
"Then we can continue ?" I asked her.
"Okay, but remember, what we're reading and writing is fiction."
"Right." The scene then continued.
"So this is your sister, Emma," Susan continued. "She was born before you, and while you may not be aware of it. This placed great stress and jealousy on her."
"How so ?" I asked.
"Quite simply, YOU are competition for her. Like most firstborns, she felt she had it made in the shade with her parents. That she would receive all the affection and all the attention. That is, until you came along."
Susan pointed a paw up to tap my chest as I was holding her in my hands.
"Who, me ?"
"Yes you ! For now the parents had to contend and tend to another member of the family. You. And because you were just a baby, they did indeed spend more time with you, getting you ready for the world."
"What about my sister ?"
"Your parents didn't neglect her altogether, but at the same token they also didn't shower her with as much attention as she would've gotten had you not been born. Thus the rivalry begins."
"I don't remember much about my youth. But - there was something."
And as I spoke a new light lit up. I continued to carry Susan in my arms and we walked to it. There was the scene of a boy's bedroom with toys on the floor for a baby. A small wall hanging in St. Andrew being crucified on an X shaped cross.
* * *
And it showed me in bed, I guess I was age 4. And Dad was there. He was reading out loud to me the book, "Put Me In The Zoo."
As he was reading, even though I was so young, I was asking questions, especially about the drawings and illustrations. "Why is she kurfie ?" I asked Dad.
"What ?" My Dad asked.
"Kurfie poofie." I replied and pointed to the middle of the girl's yellow dress.
Dad replied, "The popcorn ? No ? Oh, that's a dress. Girls wear dresses, Andrew."
"Why ?"
Dad shrugged, "I guess it's more comfortable than pants."
"And - for the time that answer seemed to satisfy me. As for the years that passed, Dad never gave me any distinction between a boy and a girl except that girls wore a kurfie as I called it, or a dress as I know it today. He never did talk about the birds and the bees - and - I never asked as I was absorbed with computers, graph paper, and calculators through most of my adolescence."
"It was not until I was nearly 16-years old when I knew there were more differences than just this."
Susan observing the scene spoke, "Did you ever feel your Dad didn't give you enough education about girls ?"
"Yes ..." I spoke thoughtfully. "I don't think it was until I was in high school when I knew there was a difference. I was playing baseball at school during P.E. and apparently one of the bullies decided to see how I would react to this."
"To this - what happened, David ?"
"To - well. I was in the far outfield and there was this black girl who I knew hung out with the school bullies. She came in front of me, dropped her pants and underwear and ran up in front of me and yelled, "Hey Poindexter, look at this !" and pointed down at the split between her legs.
"And - I did watch, closely. I even squatted down for a better look. But - I didn't know what I was seeing. Seeing no reaction from me and perhaps so as not to get caught by the coach, she quickly did up her clothes again and ran back to her part of the field."
"And I thought was the end of it, but it wasn't. I remember 3 of the bigger guys came to me and razzed me, slapping me on the back and said, "Oh she got you good, Poinzy ! So what did you see ? What did you see ? Did you want some of that ?"
"And I answered as honestly as I could. 'I saw nothing.'"
"Nothing ?"
"I told those guys 'nothing' - cause she didn't have a winkie like I did. I thought maybe she was in an accident or something and lost hers. But when the guys finally realized I was truly saying NOTHING, meaning I saw nothing there at all, they changed their mood and said, 'Oh boy is she going to kill you for telling her that.'"
"And of course I was very confused about the whole matter compounded by their rude laughter."
"What about your Mom ? Didn't she talk to you about the birds and the bees ?"
"No, not even her. She was more concerned about killing Dad - but we'll save that for a later chapter."
"So - I guess you were pretty messed up in your head about sexuality."
"Yeah, and bullies in later years took full advantage of my naivety in the school bathroom. But we can write about that later."
"Anyways, I remember seeing the movie, 'Blue Lagoon' and when the girl came out of the water with blood on her hands, it wasn't until I was 30-years old that I fully believed a woman's hands would bleed to show they were having a baby."
"Who told you they weren't ?"
"Rose did. When Rose realized I knew so very little about sexuality. She sat down with me for hours and tried to explain stuff. But it was really hard for me to understand. Because I had NEVER been told what was what - it was like learning a foreign language."
"I see. Well, your Dad reading to you, 'Put Me In The Zoo' was an important part of your life, where you started to realize there was a difference between boys and girls."
"Yes, but unfortunately, neither Mom nor Dad explained it to me."
The light above us suddenly went dim and the scene faded.
END
OF CHAPTER 28
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