Part Two
I'm not exactly sure
how we survived those first few moments, when dad drove up our driveway to find
the three of us sitting there happily in our now greasy little flannelette
shirts amid the tangled wreckage
of his beloved and only recently working mower.
But I do remember the strangled
sob and his bulging bloodshot eyes glaring in total disbelief from behind the
windshield of his white Ford Cortina. Signalling to all concerned that
explanations would have to wait, because right then was the perfect time to drop
tools and get the heck out of there. Which we did in three different directions
and at high speed with the sound of my mum trying to offer some quick positive
reasoning to my near psychotic father, which knowing him as I did was like
trying to talk a hand grenade from exploding after pulling the pin.
I didn't hear the whole conversation
going on between them, given the fact that at the time I was fairly absorbed
with running around in noisy confused circles. I do however remember hearing dad
say he was going to do something
that involved his bare hands at the exact moment that I reached our side
fence.
Like an Olympic athlete and with my
little legs blurring beneath me, I hurdled it in one terrified bound, hitting
the ground on the other side on the run and with all the speed I could muster, headed diagonally up Gary's backyard and dived headfirst into the space between
my uncle Alec's furnace and their back neighbours fence. Which I instantly
discovered was crowded with another small petrified child in the shape of my
cousin Gary looking owl eyed and disheveled and after yelling out together in
shock and disentangling our arms and legs, we stretched out as flat as we could
and like two panting little lizards squinted through some blades of grass
expecting at any moment to see the Frankenstein like figure of my father coming
to get us...
Part Three coming soon
SUBSCRIBE NOW
No comments:
Post a Comment