Weekend End

When I was growing up, I had no siblings but many cousins.  All of them were younger than me except one.  And all of them were boys.  There were no girls in my extended family.

My Dad's mother lived in a sizeable home that she raised her four boys in.  It was situated on a deep lot very close to downtown Belzoni. 

The things that I remember most about the house were the exceedingly tall ceilings and the convential foundation.  The house was at least 48" above grade.  It's one of the only homes I've been in that had its HVAC ductwork within the crawlspace. 

I was the ringleader of the group when all of us boys would stay over at my grandmother's.  I savored the attention and would just about do anything to get a laugh out of my cousins.  Or even a scare...

One of the younger boys was terrified of a small metal sculpture my grandmother had sitting on display.  After realizing this, I decided to orchestrate a seance using the object as some sort of supernatural antenna.

I sat down with all of the younger kids in a circle in the front room of the house where we could have some privacy (my grandmother was Charismatic - she would have not been too happy with me doing this if she'd found out).  I then put the antelope / elk sculpture in the center after darkening the room and asked everyone to join hands before attempting to call up the spirit of our dead grandfather.

My young cousin began to sob.  I couldn't ignore it for long, though I probably made an attempt to calm him down in between my pleas to the spirit realm.  At this point, I quickly disbanded the group and put the Satan deer back on its shelf - in the back - where it could no longer be seen.

I had made a decision to not make things worse for the little guy.  He simply wanted to be included but couldn't overcome his fear.  He was as brave as a five or six year old could muster despite the circumstances.  And besides, his crying was just too much to bear.

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When I was in upper elementary school, I befriended a classmate who had two older siblings.  His parents were much older than my own.  In many ways, they reminded me more of grandparents than parents.  Jeff lived in a very spacious home.  It was actually more fun spending time in that house than it was spending time with him. 

On a few occasions, he asked me to sleep over on a Friday night.  I remember watching the Manimal pilot and Friday Night Videos on TV in between playing with his mother's automated bidet (which I was fascinated with).  We probably also delved into some Atari 2600 games before I had to head home the next day.  Jeff was a really nice boy.  He was definitely the baby of the family.  He even still had some baby fat to prove it.

Jeff's older brother was much older and built like a varsity athlete (I can only assume he was).  He apparently would routinely beat up his little brother for the fun of it.  I happened to witness one of those routines one Saturday morning after a sleepover.  He simply barged into Jeff's bedroom and started beating the crap out of him.  Obviously, it didn't take long to accomplish this before Jeff was left sobbing on the floor in a heap.  Thankfully, my presence was never acknowledged during the pummeling.

I didn't return to Jeff's house after that.  I had no desire to be big brother's next victim.  And besides, some people's houses are just too big.

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When I was in high school, I would usually attend a church sponsored youth conference in the summer when I was off from school.  On one particular occasion, I was one of the oldest boys to attend during what was probably my last year of high school. 

Eric was a younger boy in our youth group who was disabled both mentally and physically.  Looking back, he had probably been in an accident early in his life which had caused his facial deformities / slurred speech, etc.  He also walked with one leg dragging behind.  It was painful to watch him move since it was so unnatural.  Eric had no real friends, only guys / girls who'd be polite when he happened to move within earshot.

During one of the afternoon sessions, we were all together with the other kids being lectured to within a large auditorium hall.  Eric was sitting in front of me next to some of the other kids from our church.  It didn't take long for me to pick up on the boy and girl sitting adjacent to him.  They were mocking his garbled speech as they discoursed between themselves and Eric and back again.  At first, I was dumbfounded.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing / hearing.

Then something clicked inside of me, and I reacted swiftly.

Before I knew it, I was escorting the two dimwitted kids out to the lobby.  I don't remember what I said, but I hope it made a lasting impression.  They were shocked to have been called out by an older kid.  

Thankfully, Eric was oblivious. 

Later, the boy's father asked me about the incident.  He happened to be there with us over the course of the week serving as a chaperone.  From what I remember, He didn't rebuke me for singling them out nor did he support it outright.  He may have been as stunned as I was, or perhaps he felt that I overreacted.  I didn't care either way.  I didn't do it for anyone other than Eric.

Kids do stupid things.  Especially when they're around other kids or when they're left alone with too much time on their hands.

Let's all grow up and act our age.  We're no longer children, no matter what day of the week or time of day it is.

I needed to hear this more than anyone.