Literature
Waking to a Desperate Sight
I grew up with the nickname "Doodle" and with the
position of middle between two wonderful brothers, Perry and Billy,
although sometimes they did not seem so wonderful at the time. We had
millions of fights wherein more often than not two brothers ganged up on
the third. In retro respect it seems that my older brother, Perry, was
more likely to be the organizer of the gang and less likely to be the
victim, although today he vehemently denies this.
Until we were older Perry and I slept in the same bed, Billy slept in a
separate bed in the hallway, and our older sister, Martha Gene, had her
own room. The last to wake up was often the center of a plot with extremes
limited only by the imagination of the other two brothers.
Possibly the worst of these punishments, which, at one time or another was
pulled on all brothers by the other two. This stunt created such a feeling
of outrage mixed with complete helplessness and despair that returns even
today just prior to making me laugh out loud. My thoughts return to those
of a six-year-old boy being awakened by Billy's voice.
"Doodle!, Wake up!"
Lying flat on my back, my eyes open to a sight, which for just a moment
while my brain is becoming conscious, is confusing before becoming
absolutely dismaying. In that one instant that lasts about a millisecond,
I realize that I have just become this morning's victim. Perry's bare-ass
cheeks loom just six inches above my face. On the occasions where the
timing and logistics was successful, before I could move a muscle, and
just as my brain begins shouting "DANGER" to the rest of my
sleep-paralyzed body, I hear the sound of a roaring fart, followed by the
thunderous roar of laughter of the two evil ones.
The subsequent fight, which no one every doubted would follow, could be
stopped only by threats of a homicidal, belt-wielding father. Although
I would not have known it at the time, Daddy was probably more amused by
the stunt than the two brothers who pulled it.