I think it was me.

We had a Nintendo that we had to share.  All three of us played, but when Tyler and I wanted to see what happens when you beat the game, we watched with chins on our fists, deadly silent as Mario made the crucial eighth-world jumps.

We also had a seven acre hill of dry brush. Adam caught snakes. Five foot long bastards, maybe two inches thick. I think they were mostly Bull Snakes. He’d stuff them into pillow cases and hang on to them for a couple of days. I never saw him catch a Rattle Snake, but he says he did. He read books on reptiles. I never touched the stuff.

He wrote something once. Dad and Janis read it. Two 12 year olds at an arcade. “It’s not like we were getting intimate or anything!” So good. So grown up.

After a relative died, my Dad hung two rifle-less Civil War bayonets (one with dried blood) and an old machete over the fire-place. We had sword fights. Tyler, usually with the machete, was the fiercest.

We’d throw the bayonets straight up and marvel at how they’d just stick in the ceiling. We’d hurl them across the room and marvel at how they’d stick in the floor.

My dad summoned us with one syllable.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOYS!”

rhythmic tumble

“Who put the hole in the couch?”

“…”                         “…”                         “…”

“Who put the hole in the couch?”

“…”                         “…”                         “…”

“WHO put the hole in the couch?”

“I dunno”              “no clue”                   “…”

“OK.”

And he let us go, liars.

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4 thoughts on “I think it was me.

  1. Speaking as a mom…you could have put your eye out with that bayonet! What was your dad thinking!? Made me laugh to picture the scene. You have a strong voice in this genre. Love the reminices and would like to hear more!

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