RED PAINT, CHINNING BARS & CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM
The soft tick of the clock was the only noise in the room, as my mind looped back over the first day at the Dunken's house. I stole a glance at Marlin. He had stopped writing, and sat patiently with his head tipped, watching me, saying nothing. I let my mind drift, and felt a smile tugging at my face.
After Virginia's bath, and when they had her in the kitchen (she had not one, but TWO sandwiches - lucky her), I was left to my own devices. We didn't have television in those days, so that was no option. The only radio (a gorgeous burled wood, tall, upright piece of furniture) was not turned on. Yawn. Bored. I was in a "no-touch" zone - a home alien to me, with nothing to do, and nobody to care how I did that nothing!
I stole a peek into the kitchen. Both Mr. and Mrs. Dunken were busy consoling Virginia, and Mr. Dunken was headed out to buy so ice cream to "make her feel better". She wanted chocolate. I nodded to myself; Virginia was content and looked after, so I didn't have to worry about her for a bit.
I laughed out loud. "What?" asked Marlin. Startled I returned to the present, but I couldn't stop grinning.
"You know the saying 'Here Comes Trouble', or the saying 'Trouble is My Middle name'?"
"Of course," he returned my smile. "are you saying that's you?"
I laughed again. "You bet!"
What does a four year old do when bored, no toys, and left to herself in a "no-touch" zone? She must return to the place where she knows it is okay for her to be. The "Safety Zone".
I ran back to the bedroom and tried to recapture the smell of joy by hugging the pillow. But the joy smell was gone. I ran my hands over the spread. No joy there, although it did feel lovely. The lacy curtains were also lovely to touch, but no joy. The window shades were pulled, and these were hard to pull up and down, so I must not try that, but I could step behind one, to see if it would be a good hiding place. And so I did, very carefully.
Then I was caught up in the view from the window. There were kids playing in the yard next door, laughing and shoving as they played ball. What fun that looked to be! They were all boys, loud and noisy as boys are. Suddenly, one of them picked up some slushy snow and threw it at another, right towards my direction! Alarmed, I backed out from behind the shade. I hoped he hadn't seen me. My frightened mind began to work frantically: if he had seen me and said something to Mr. and Mrs. Dunken what would happen to me for being where I wasn't supposed to be? My hands began to shake, and I chewed in agony on my torn fingernails. Suddenly, I had to go to the bathroom very badly!
"Because you stepped behind a shade," gently, he inquired.
"Oh, yes! Of course. I was in a "no touch" zone. This could have been more than being yelled at, this could be a beating!"
In the bathroom, I sighed with relief as I sat on the toilet. Then I couldn't go. So I went through the catechism: "are awake, you are sitting on the seat, it is okay to go potty... no, you must take off Aunt Peg's panties before you go." Gingerly I scrambled off the toilet and wiggled out of the panties. I climbed back on, and sat there for awhile, day dreaming. I delighted in the sweet smell of the bathroom, the red walls and white tiles. Suddenly, I snapped out of my day dream - I saw it again - the Chinning Bar. Big and bold and shiney and wondeful.
Hurriedly I wiggled back into the panties, and flushed the toilet. Wow! It worked so good and was so fascinating, I decided I should have another go at it. What fun this was, so I flushed it again, and then again. Then I wondered how it worked. I dropped to my knees and crawled under and behind it, looking at the knobs and pipes. I put my hand on the wall for support, and it felt sticky wet. When I pulled my hand away, it as covered with red paint! I looked at my hand and thought how beautiful the color was, but I didn't want to get it on anything, so I wiped it on the shirt I was wearing.
Laughter interrupted my reverie. "You wiped it on the shirt?" Marlin laughed?
"I did. And in 1947 the paint was oil based, not water based." Marlin laughed harder, and I joined him. "Oh," he said "they must have been upset."
"Not right then." That would come later, in about ten minutes.
Once my hand was sufficiently cleaned, and I could lick no more of the paint off, I faced my next puzzle. It seemed Aunt Peg had hung some towels on the chinning bar! Could I dare touch them, to move them? And where would I put them? On the floor, in tub, on the sink... my mind searched for the perfect answer. At last I saw it, a seat cover for the toilet. Very carefully, I lowered it and was quite pleased with myself. The perfect place to put the towels!
As I turned to reach for the towel bar, I lightly tripped against the toilet base, and put my hand against the wall to balance myself, then carefully stepped around the toilet to the get the towels. Forgetting to clean my hand again, I carefully, one-by-one pulled them off the chinning bar, and laid them down as neatly as I could. They were still damp from our baths, and I breathed in the clean smell of them. Hmmmm. Still no joy. But that didn't matter, because I knew at last where I would find My Joy.
The towels all removed, At last I stood in front of My Joy. My trophy for my efforts. The most beautiful chinning bar I had ever seen! I had to stand and admire it for a couple minutes before trying it out. I stood quietly before it, my hands clasped together in anticipation. The expectation was almost too great for me to handle, and I felt nausea curling up through my stomach. Taking deep breaths, I let the nausea settle, calming myself. This was a special moment, and I didn't want to ruin it.
I stepped forward.
I reached up both hands.
I grasped the bar, and took a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for.
I pulled myself up.
The bar broke from the wall, and I went crashing down! Legs and arms and chinning bar flying everywhere. I ended up on my back with my feet and legs on the wall.
"Well," I said out loud, "that wasn't very nice!" Who would put up a chinning bar like that? Only someone who was out to hurt someone else. And to make it worse, I was cheated out of some really good chinning! And my joy all gone.
Then I heard footsteps pounding through the house, and the door was flung open. "What has happened?" cried Aunt Peg, "are you all right?" She helped me up from the floor.
"What have you done?" roared Mr. Dunken, "You've ruined everything!"
"For goodness sake, what were you thinking - what were you doing?" Aunt Peg was looking at me angrily. "You have red paint everywhere."
I was amazed! How stupid could people be? My defense mode kicked in, as I prepared myself for the beating of my life. I knew it was coming; it just couldn't be any other way. But this really wasn't my fault!
"I was chinning myself," I defended, "and you didn't put the chinning bar up right." I smiled at him, but he would not meet my eyes.
Mr. Dunken scratched his head. "Well, Hazel, I'll have to repaint in here, and get some better fasteners for the towel bar. You take care of her and this mess and I'll see to Virginia."
What towel bar? What about the chinning bar?I didn't have time for my thoughts to go much further than that, as Aunt Peg grabbed a hold of me and put me in the tub, while the water was still running. "You even have the paint in your hair," she grumbled.
Really? In my hair? I so wanted to see, but knowing I was really in trouble, I didn't ask. Still, I bet the red paint looked really good.
It was a quiet, no-chat bath this time, and no Jergens to finish it off.
Much later, re-washed, re-dressed and sitting at the kitchen table with the Dunkens and Virginia (they weren't about to let me be where they couldn't "keep an eye on me"), I watched as Virginia slowly ate her chocolate ice cream. Licking the spoon after each bite, and smiling smugly at me each time. No ice cream for me. "Only good girls got ice cream," so they said. And when I learned to be more like my sister, I would get chocolate ice cream, too.
"Funny thing is," I looked at Marlin "in later years they would tell that story, and laugh about it, but they never let me have chocolate ice cream in all the years I lived with them."
"Never?"
"Never."
Loving this...sad, but loving this.
ReplyDeleteThank you Augz. ♥
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