Part III

I don't remember the move, or even getting to California. I don't even know if we drove, flew or swam.

I don't know if I remember the first house we lived in, I think it was a rental.

When you're digging into a four year old mind, you remember what YOU think is important. I am not concerned with timelines either. I'm leaving that to the Johnny Cash historians and people who are concerned with that. I'm not. This is my reality and what I recall.

I'm sure some parts will be be jumbled or flow into another memory, but that's how I write.

Here we go....

My first memory in California was our house in Encino. Daddy and Mama bought it from Johnny Carson. I loved it.... all except my room.

The house had a pool, and was a rambling ranch style home with a lot of space. I remember Mama and Daddy being excited because mine and Rosanne's room had the "Alice In Wonderland" characters painted on all the walls.

Our little twin sized beds were on the middle of a long wall with a nightside table between them.

Now I can confess.

I hated that room. Directly across from my bed and up towards the ceiling was a huge Cheshire Cat with his glaring orange eyes and a devilish smile that wasn't very friendly. I personally thought he was going to leap off the wall while I was sleeping and eat me. The door to the hall was very close to my bed and I used it often for an easy escape.

That's also when the night terrors began.

I don't think it was the cat. Something in my mind was triggered and I felt as if I was reliving something terrifying. I have some recollections of the terrors, but I couldn't wake up from them. Ever. It was awful and I began to dread bedtime as a child would dread going into their worst nightmare.

The terrors started when Daddy was on the road. I don't recall ever waking up from them. I just remember being exhausted every day. (Mama told me later that it was a bloodcurdling scream that made her skin crawl. She had a nightly ritual of not going to bed until it passed. She would sit with me while I was screaming and sweating and wait for it to pass to tuck me in again.)

I have no idea how Rosanne dealt with this. I haven't asked her in a long time.

One night Dad came in off the road. He hadn't been home since all this started (Mom said she had told him but I don't think he understood the magnitude). We were tucked in bed by Daddy, and all was quiet. For a while. As usual I pulled the covers over my head and turned on my side so I couldn't see that stupid sneering cat. Then I drifted off to sleep.

Having Daddy in the house I convinced myself that I wouldn't have bad dreams. Somehow I thought his presence would repel the dreams so I drifted off to sleep. It didn't work.

Sometime later I sat straight up in bed as usual and with my eyes wide open let out a nonstop bloodcurdling scream. Mama was ready as usual and in a full sprint. (She told me years later that Daddy jumped about two feet off the couch, grabbed a broom on the way, and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Daddy's coming, Kathleen! I'm coming!" as he ran to my rescue.) He thought someone had broken in and was hurting me.

Mom said that she did her usual routine while Daddy stood there shaking, looking petrified, holding his broom and watching his little girl with horror. It passed and I went off to sleep again.

Other than that, our life was fun. Daddy seemed to be on a mission. He was determined we'd be surrounded by animals and have our own little petting zoo.

Our first addition to the family was a beautiful Golden Retriever we named Penny. Penny Cash was beautiful, gentle and we rode her like a pony. She was patient and sweet. We put little necklaces, hats and even my rain boots on her. She put up with all of it and acted like that was her mission in life. What a loving dog. I have no idea where she came from, but the second we saw her, we knew she was meant for us.

Before we knew it, Daddy added a spider monkey he named "Homer", and a parrot named "Jethro" to our city zoo.

Mama wasn't too excited about Homer, but she found a way to eventually love him. He was hilarious, so the laughs he gave us made it easier I'm sure. Homer used to climb on Penny's back and ride her around like it was just part of who he was. Daddy thought that was great, so of course he had to get Homer his own little red cowboy hat. It was ridiculous looking, but Homer seemed to know that the hat automatically went on his head when it was time to take a ride on poor Penney's back. OR, maybe when he wanted to ride Penney, he knew that was his outfit. I don't know how a monkey thinks, but he just KNEW.

Penny was a saint. She seemed to know that was just part of her agreement somehow. (We have photos of this comical sight. I'll HAVE to find them and post them. Too funny.)

Jethro was a different world altogether. it wasn't long before he had a vocabulary of over 200 words! TWO HUNDRED! The strangest thing is that he actually used them appropriately. He learned to mimic Mama's voice and us girls. (I guess mocking a man's baritone voice just wasn't a possibility for a parrot.)

We got so mad at him. Rosanne and I would be outside playing when we'd hear Mom calling, "Kathleen! Rosanne! Time to come in! Come on girls!, wash your hands!" We'd run in frustrated after only being out a few minutes, and say, "What mama? We're playing" only to have her tell us she didn't call us in. It must have been Jethro. UGH! Then Jethro, as if on cue would say, "Helloooo, I want a cracker. Jethro wants cracker." Then he would actually "LAUGH!! We'd get mad and say,"NO Jethro! BAD boy!", with him responding "Bad BOY! BAD BOY! Jethro wants cracker, Nooooo, Bad boy".... then a big laugh again. His laugh was more like a cackle. Sometimes I wanted to choke him. Then he'd say something that would make me laugh, and I'd love him again.

Rosanne and I would go back outside mad at him, and Daddy would just double over laughing. Daddy always gave him a cracker after that. Mama would say, "Johnny, you're teaching him bad habits. He'll do that again. The girls don't like it." Daddy thought it was SO CUTE. He was proud Jethro was that smart so he decided to teach him many more "tricks". That's when that bird seemed to expand his vocabulary in leaps and bounds but not always in a good way.

Not only did he make life very interesting and entertaining, but he was very good at causing a lot of trouble.

Daddy taught him (among other things) to say, "I love you baby", "time for bed, babies", "Honey, where are you?", "I need my keys", "What up Doc?", "Time to eat", "Penny, where are you?", "Stop it Homer!", and Dad's favorite, "damn it, damn it, damn it, DAMNNNN IT!!!"

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