Bad Boys

Probably the same summer my treasure was broken I had another bad experience on the hill. I believe it has shaped my view of males to some degree, sad to say.

Mom must have gone some place and Dad would have been at his day job, fixing cars. The little kids were likely napping and I was grabbing some treasured solo time down the hill. Grama El was watching us that day.

It was another day that seemed as if nothing could be wrong in the world. Warm, breezy, sunshiny; A great day to be outside.

I really can't remember what I was doing, probably nothing special, looking at shiny rocks could occupy me for hours. I used to look for "picture rocks". These had multiple colors and if you looked carefully you could see pictures of far away places. I found caves, hills, oceans and the rare face. There were also "story rocks" which were picture rocks with things on every face that you could tell a story about. What ever I was up to I was way down the hill playing in the shade of the old maple tree.

This was a great climbing tree. It was big and solid. I'm guessing it was quite old, 70 years or so, anyway. The trunk was "Y" shaped and only about 2 feet high before the split. This made it easy to get up into the fork, lean, belly down, against one arm of the "Y" and stretch tall to grab the next branch then scramble up. It also meant that there was lots of shade from the double crown. It was always cool there, even on the hottest days.

I was intent on whatever amusement I was involved with because I didn't hear the two bigger boys coming down the hill behind me. I know I was crouching down and looking at or playing with something on the ground in front of me. I didn't know anyone was there until one of them said, "Hey - Little Girl!"

Of course, I jumped right up and turned to face them in my surprise. I didn't know these boys. They wore the standard kid outfit that year, blue jeans and a horizontally striped t-shirt. I thought they were smiling kind of funny but I said a shy little "Hello" and waited to see what they wanted. I wasn't afraid. I had not learned to be afraid of other humans, yet. I was out-numbered and aware of it.

"You have to go behind the tree and close your eyes." The taller one told me. His face was all narrow and skinny. He had pointy eyes, a narrow chin, pronounced cheek bones, brown eyes and brown hair with an unruly duck tail hair cut. (his hair would darken along with his soul as he grew)

I was puzzled and probably looked it. "Huh?"

The other one, the shorter one, had lighter brown hair, dark eyes, rounder features but the same funny smile on his face as he explained, "We have to pee. You go around the other side of the tree and don't look."

Now I was enlightened! I knew all about boys and peeing outside. I had cousins and uncles on farms all over the state. I felt less threatened now, they just needed some privacy. I was a polite child so I said, "OK." and ran around the down hill side of the big tree then stood facing the back of the church.

One of them said, "No, you have to scoot down so we know you aren't peeking while we pee!"

So I slung my butt down between my knees and, for good measure, covered my eyes with my hands. It's just as well I did.

Some of you may have seen it coming, but I never did.

Those two boys, Junkie Human and Bowel Movement, lifted their little cocktail wienies and peed all over me - in my hair, down the sides of my neck and soaked the back of my shirt.

It was just like the window all over again. I was stunned. First I thought it was raining then I knew what it was. I jumped up and looked through the trunk at them as they shoved their weapons of shame back in their tiny zippers, laughing their heads off. I sucked in air to holler for Grama and there I stuck. So I took off running up the hill as fast as my short legs could go, getting purple and blue from not breathing, when about half way up I got the screams of rage and shame out.

Grama was Johnny-on-the-spot and came shooting out the front door. I loved her! She started taking names and flinging curses before she could understand what I was upset about. That lady was fast at the math, fleeing girl, two boys running and laughing = one angry Grama.

Once again I was crying so hard I could barely talk. Grama came to meet me, saw and smelled what the problem was and just picked me up anyway and took me in to bathe and put clean clothes on me. She was a big woman with a comforting, large breast area. I cuddled right down and sobbed out my shame.

I have hated those two boys ever since. To forgive you have to be able to understand the action. What possible reason did they have to mess with my day? Who taught them that would be funny? Did they pull this on other little kids? I told all my friends to stay away from the two bad boys, so they didn't get any of my pals.

My revenge is that they did nothing with their lives. They grew up to be liars, thieves, drunks, drug dealers and disease carrying males who had to pay to get a woman. I don't believe they have any off-spring. So yes, there is a creator.

I ran into one of them at my workplace once and when it was his turn I put his order down in front of him and said, "Pissed on any little girls, lately?" with my most evil, hate filled face on. He had the grace not to try and look like he didn't know what I was talking about. He just put his head down, took his stuff and left quietly. I could have killed him and his pal even those 15 years later.

Is the world not callously cruel enough to humans without us being cruel to each other?