Part XI

I'm not quite sure what got into me, but sometime between kindergarten and first grade I developed a bit of a mischievous (mean) little streak. I didn't get pleasure out of hurting anyone, I just didn't think about results or the damage my actions could cause someone else.

One day during the summer of 1962, I had decided that Cindy was very cute but got in my way, A LOT. This particular day, Mama was tending to Tara who was about a year old. Rosanne and I were outside riding bikes in the enormous blacktop turnaround. Eula was in the house, and Daddy was on the road. I remember Mama standing in the doorway asking us to watch Cindy because she wanted to come outside and play with us. Rosanne and I were having a great time riding bikes and singing, and did not want to watch her, keep up with her, and certainly weren't interested in playing with her. We were very busy.

Rosanne had recently started calling our little sisters "the little kids", even though we were all fairly close in age. She insisted that we were much too old to "play" with them, and although I secretly enjoyed it sometimes, today was not one of those days.

To this day, I have no idea how I accomplished this by myself, but I did. I managed to get three year old Cindy hanging by her tiny little hands for dear life to Daddy's basketball hoop - a standard height basketball hoop! I hung her up there and told her to hang on, I'd "be right back". I proceeded to ride my little red bike all over the place just as happy as I could be.

Problem solved (or so I thought).

Rosanne watched me but she continued riding her bike and warned me that I would get in big trouble. I assumed she meant because I wasn't playing with Cindy, not because I could have killed her. Not long after I got back on my bike, I heard Cindy crying and begging me to get her down. I told her I'd get her down in "just a minute".

Immediately, she started screaming, "Kaffy, I'm fawin' I'm FAWIN'!!!" About the time I looked over to see if she really was falling, I saw her fall hard face down on the asphalt. I jumped off my bike and ran as fast as I could just in time to see her gasp for breath and scream at the top of her lungs. It wasn't just a normal scream. It was a bloodcurdling scream that made me freeze in my tracks. I thought she was going to die. When she lifted her head I was sure of it.

Her little face was pouring blood, her nose was to the side of where it should have been, and she didn't get up. Mama came running out of the house holding Tara and froze in her tracks. Eula was right behind her and immediately put both hands over her mouth. All I could see were Eula's eyes and they looked so big, I thought they might pop. Mama almost tossed Tara to Eula, and ran to Cindy faster than I'd ever seen anyone run.

I seemed frozen right where I stood, but Rosanne was running past me to look at Cindy. Then she started screaming. Mama picked Cindy up carefully but was almost running towards the house. Mama's face looked white all of a sudden, Cindy was still screaming, Eula was rushing behind Mama holding Tara who had joined in the crying, and Rosanne was following all of them. I was standing exactly where I had been when I saw my little sister bleeding all over the place, just staring at the spot Cindy had landed.

It seemed like seconds later Mama came running out the door with her car keys, cradling screaming Cindy wrapped in a bloody towel. "Kath-a"LEEN, get in the house RIGHT NOW! You pray RIGHT NOW that she's going to be okay! Go! NOW!" Mama backed her Cadillac out of the open garage, turned the car, and was gone in what seemed like a second. She had looked at me in a mean way that scared me. Not only had I killed my sister, but now my Mama hated me. I had never been so afraid in my life, not even with my terrible dreams or when Daddy hadn't come home.

I dragged myself to the back door and into the kitchen where Eula stood crying, still holding Tara in her arms. Rosanne was just staring at me with tears running down her cheeks. "Eula, is Cindy going to die?" I was crying too by then. "Does Mama hate me? Is CINDY GOING TO DIE?!" Eula gently sat Tara on the floor and knelt down to talk to me. "Kathleen, I think Cindy broke her nose. She isn't going to die, but she's hurt. Your Mama took her to the hospital, and of course she doesn't hate you. She's upset, but would never hate you. Why on earth would you put your sister on the basketball net, and HOW did you DO THAT? You need to get a bath and put your pajamas on and come eat dinner, okay? Mama will be tired when she gets home, and she'll be busy taking care of Cindy." I had no answers for her. I walked through the den and down the hall towards the bathroom.

I did exactly what she said without saying a word. I was so scared I didn't want to eat, I remember sitting on my bed after I put my pajamas on, waiting for Mama and Cindy to get home but also afraid to see either of them. It seemed like forever when I heard the telephone ring. I was still praying when Eula poked her head into my bedroom door to tell me that they would be home in a little while. She said Cindy broke her nose, and Grandma was with Mama at the hospital. That made me feel better. I knew if Mama hated me that Grandma could ask her to love me again. Rosanne wasn't speaking to me and that hurt my feelings, but she'd been mad at me before, so I wasn't worried about that.

I couldn't stand the thought of Mama not loving me. I was so worried I couldn't sleep. It seemed like an eternity before I heard a car drive up and I could faintly hear Eula talking to someone from the other end of the house. I was relieved but upset. Had enough time gone by that Mama forgot she didn't like me? I couldn't hear Cindy screaming anymore, so that was good, or was it? I panicked again. What if she was too hurt to scream? What if Eula just told me things to make me go to sleep and things weren't going to be okay? Thank goodness the hall light stayed on at night. My bedroom lights were off, but there was enough light filtering in to keep from being afraid of the dark on top of everything else.

I waited a very long time for someone to pass by my bedroom door or even worse, for Mama to come in and talk mean to me again like she had when she was leaving. Finally, Mama came down the hall carrying Cindy. From my bed, I quietly said, "Mama?" She stopped at my door and said, "What honey?" I felt huge relief. (She had called me "honey" in a tired and soft voice.) "Is Cindy going to die, and do you still hate me?" Mama looked into the dark room and said, "Cindy broke her nose and hurt her head, but she will be okay. She's going to sleep in my bed tonight so I can check on her. Of course I don't hate you; I love you very much. We're going to talk tomorrow, but you need to go to sleep right now, okay? Goodnight, say your prayers."

"Mama, I said a lot of prayers. I'm sorry I hurt Cindy, and I'm sorry you got mad at me, and..." My voice trailed off. She gave me a little smile and was out of sight, heading towards her room. I think I dozed off before I heard her reach her bedroom door.

Hurting Cindy taught me a huge lesson. (For a while.) Using a basketball hoop was not a good place to park a tiny toddler so I could play, but it was tame compared to the "great ideas" that would come to me the following years.

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