I was a crash test sister. For those of you who had older brothers, you will immediately understand what I mean. For those of you fortunate few who were only children let me explain. And for those of you who were the testers and not the testee, karma will eventually come for you. Oh yes, Karma with a capital K.
I grew up as a girl among brothers, desperately wanting to fit in. My only role model for woman-hood was my strong Mother, who cared for all of us as both Mother and Father from my third year on. She wore dresses, makeup, jewelry and a sense of confidence , justice and pride that most men only aspire to. The point of this all being that I grew up strong. Strong enough to survive my brothers, anyway.
On a fall day when the leaves had mostly fallen, but it was still warm enough to go outside, my brother Tom , closest to me in age, was given the task of raking leaves in the back yard. There was an old detached garage, the roof of which was flat and could be reached by clever hands and feet shimmying up the hack berry trees that grew along one side. On this afternoon my brother Tom had raked as many leaves as possible into a single pile right next to the garage with the idea being to jump from the roof into the pile. Also not to get caught, or hurt. After completing the enormous pile, climbing to the roof, and after making sure Mom was nowhere about, Tom looked down on the pile. Way, way down. And thought. And thought. “Hmmmm…” I imagine it went, “They are only leaves after all….and the ground is hard…hmmmm…I should go get Annie.”
Tom found me inside the house, drawing as usual.
“Annie, come on. I’ve got this great thing set up!”
Immediately interested, I put my drawing away and followed, just happy to have one of my brothers pay attention to me.
We got outside and approached the impressively enormous pile of leaves.
“Okay,” says Tom, “We’ll climb up the back of the garage and jump into the pile. It’s tons of fun!”
I look at my innocently smiling brother, and for a small instant the one part of my brain that sometimes over rules my brothers spoke up.
“Ummm…that looks kinda dangerous.”
“Nah…I’ve done it loads of times already.” He starts up a tree. “I just thought you might wanna come, but if you don’t, that’s fine with me.”
The smart part of my brain immediately shut off. “No! I wanna come! Wait up!”
“Okay”, says Tom when we reach the top, “I’ve already gone, you go ahead. Then we’ll rake the leaves back up and I’ll go.”
At the edge of the roof looking down on what now seems to be a smallish looking pile of leaves that smart part of my brain speaks up again. “Ummm…you did this already?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And its safe? It didn’t hurt?”
“Don’t be a baby. I’m fine. Just jump.”
Not wanting to be a baby, I take a deep breath and step off the roof. At that precise moment, three things happen.
One: My Mom comes running off the back porch in a leap that dwarfs my own, yelling “NOOOOO!!!!” in a voice I’m sure they heard in Canada.
Two: My brother, having seen my Mom take the leap has already slid down one of the trees and was half way to Canada before I hit the ground.
Three: Noticing the first two, the smart part of my brain says, “Crap. He’s never done this before. Crap. This is gonna hurt.”
I hit the enormous pile of leaves scattering them across the yard again and twist my ankle, only slightly (amazing, I know.)
Tearfully explaining what happened and how I was tricked to my Mom who now thinks her eldest daughter has completely lost her mind, I expected sympathy. I got an incredulous look and “Well, what did you expect? Never listen to your brothers.” Sound advice. Then she hands me a rake.
When my brother was finally extradited from Canada, he found his sister limping around the yard raking leaves into an enormous pile. Right next to the garage. Guess how we spent the rest of the day?
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