I smiled and nodded. “Of course!” I looked at Sally.
Who was gazing out the back window.
“Sally?”
She turned toward us. “Hmmm?”
“Did you hear what Mom said?”
Sally squinched her eyes up thoughtfully. “Ummm . . .”
Mom sighed. “I asked you two girls to behave. I’ll
only be gone fifteen minutes.”
“Oh, that! Yeah. Sure.” Sally shrugged and turned back
toward the window.
“Okay, then,” Mom said uncertainly. She started toward
the door, her eyes on her youngest daughter. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bye Mom!” I said cheerfully, waving. “See you soon!”
“Yeah.” She was still watching Sally as she slowly
pulled the front door shut.
Sally leaped to her feet. “Come on!” she shouted,
grabbing me by the ear.
I got up hurriedly. “Come where?”
“We only have fifteen minutes!”
“Ummm . . . what are we going to do?”
“We’re going sledding!”
I looked outside at the sweltering August afternoon.
Heat was rising in waves above the houses across the street. A small sprinkler,
looking like an afterthought in the eerie quiet, struggled mightily to moisten
a corner of Mrs. Casper’s lawn.
It was so hot that even the vast army of neighbourhood
children had taken refuge indoors. The uncommonly still street closely
resembled a scene out of The Walking Dead.
I know because it’s my favourite show.
Sally released my ear and disappeared up the stairs. “Come
on! I saw this on YouTube! It’ll be wonderful!”
I followed slowly. You have to know that Sally’s idea
of ‘wonderful’ seldom meshes with mine. “But we were supposed to husk the corn,”
I said without much force. I looked at the six little cobs stacked neatly on
one end of the table. “Sally?”
I climbed the bottom two stairs and gained the lower landing.
“Look out below!”
“Look out below!”
I had a brief glimpse of my sister perched at the top, seated
on a magic carpet.
Without hesitating, I leaped away in one quick
movement. I’ve
been Sally’s sister for fifteen years. Out of necessity, the reflexes are
pretty good.
“Yahoo!” I could hear the thump, thump, thump as Sally gained momentum on the thick carpet.
By the way, I should probably mention here that our
stairway is not open to the world. It has walls on two sides, and ends at a landing
and a third wall, with two extra steps leading down to the right and left. When
descending, one must, of necessity, turn 90 degrees to avoid contact with that third wall.
I really don’t think Sally was anticipating this.
There was a loud bang.
Followed by a muffled screeching.
As there seemed to be no further movement, I ventured
forward.
How can I describe this? Sally had made the descent
without incident. But . . . who was it who said ‘It’s not the fall that kills
you, but the sudden stop at the bottom’? Unable to make that last turn, Sally managed to hit the wall in such a fashion that her head went right through the plaster.
There was some good news. She somehow managed to miss any of the wall studs that must lie somewhere behind the drywall.
There was some good news. She somehow managed to miss any of the wall studs that must lie somewhere behind the drywall.
But my errant sister was neck-deep in it. So to speak.
At first, I was understandably alarmed. But as she
continued to screech, my fears soon evaporated. No one could make that much noise
while mortally injured.
I hurried to her side and put my hands on her
shoulders. “Hold still!” I shouted. “Here. I’ll get you out!” Say what you will
about Sally, she knows when she needs help. She grew quiet.
It took some maneuvering, but we finally managed to
pull her head out, whilst ensuring it was still attached to the rest of her.
Sally blinked plaster out of her eyes and grinned at
me. “That was fun!”
And that’s when we both heard the front door open.
“Hello?” Mom’s voice. From the vantage point of the front door, nothing of what had just taken place was visible. I so wished it could remain thus.
I peeked around the corner and our eyes met.
Mom’s hopeful expression vanished like a wisp of
smoke. “What happened?”
Sally stuck her thickly-powdered head around the wall.
“Hi, Mom!” she said brightly. “You’ll never guess what I did!”
Each month, we of Karen's crew volunteer words to the collective.
And receive words back.
It's a wonderful, challenging, fun prompt!
This month, my words were:
by the way ~ this ~ wonderful ~ ear ~ cob
by the way ~ this ~ wonderful ~ ear ~ cob
And were given to me by my good friend Jules at The Bergham Chronicles
Care to see what my friends have crafted?
Baking In A Tornado
Great use of the words given and I could so see my boys doing this. My youngest was the daredevil and we have hundreds of ER visits to prove it. Oy!
ReplyDeleteOh the memories written in our daredevils' skins!!!
DeleteI need to know, did this really happen? Because in your family I wouldn't doubt it (sorry) but I know you didn't have YouTube while growing up.
ReplyDeleteA friend of mine videoed her son doing it. I exaggerated a bit. He only dented the wall! :)
DeleteAnd you're so right. My family definitely would have. Thank goodness there was no YouTube then!
DeleteOMG! That Sally was a daredevil! I'd love to know what she became as an adult, something that takes lots of physical courage I'm sure.
ReplyDeleteMy brother and I did the exact same thing...well he did, unfortunately he hit a stud. It explains an awful lot!
ReplyDeleteThere is always at least one in every family. The youngest of my brothers in mine. And should he ever lose his hair the stitch marks in his skull tell quite a few tales...
ReplyDeleteOnly 15 minutes! That's why I never took my eyes off my son! Happy he came along before You Tube. I was going to be honest and ask if this story was sort of autobiographical, minus the You Tube...
ReplyDeleteSomehow the daredevils never think far enough ahead to see what's wrong with their plans . . . :)
ReplyDeleteOMG this is a great story! We used to do this on our stairs, too, but thankfully no one's head went through the wall!!
ReplyDeleteSally is quite the daredevil! Glad she wasn't hurt though. great story :)
ReplyDeleteWhat an adorable story!! Even though I don't know Sally, you captured her fun, rebel spirit. I'm glad you stopped the piece when you did, because it's perfect. However... I'm imagining mom's response. xoxo, B
ReplyDelete