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- 04/10/2015
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Broken - 2. Bikes, Snakes and Poison Ivy
Scotty had something really special going for him. He was just so cute and so much fun that it was ridiculous. Some of the most forbidding and stern adults would melt in his presence. One Christmas he was the photographic model for a Christmas card angel, of all things.
Sure - you could get mad at the little guy, but good luck trying to stay that way. He would look up at you with those big, blue puppy dog eyes, and you would melt on the spot like so much butter on a hot roll.
Our families hit it off famously. My Dad and Scotty's Dad became fast friends and golfing buddies. My Mom and Scotty's Mom also shared a number of interests. Scotty's Dad was a doctor and practiced at the county hospital, working very long hours and strange shifts. His Mom was a nurse and was also prone to working really strange shifts. As our families got to know each other, we began to cooperate. Scotty stayed with us while his Mom and Dad were working crazy shifts, and I stayed with the Michael's when they were off work.
It was strange the way our families merged. We did everything together - school, church and play. In a way, Scotty and I had two Moms and two Dads, and someone was always there for us. It was rare and special.
The Michael's family took me with them to visit their cousins in Tupelo. They were all really neat. His cousin really did have a Mustang that would go a thousand miles per hour!
Scotty went with me and my Mom to visit my grandmother in Greenville where we walked on levees, fished and ate plums until we were sick. My grandmother loved to fuss over us and always made cookies.
Our parents were delighted that Scotty and I were pals. We kept each other engaged and out from underfoot for the most part. He was the little brother that I had always wanted. If I had been given the choice of picking one out of a catalog, it would have been him.
Scotty quickly wormed his way into the hearts of my whole family. One of my favorite pictures was taken at Christmastime with my Dad and Big John, my big brother, with Scotty on one of his big shoulders and me on the other. Even my grumpy old big brother, which I only rarely saw because he was always away, couldn't help but smile when Scotty was around.
I was deliriously happy. I'd never had a best friend before.
While exploring in the woods, Scotty stepped on a board and a nail went through his shoe. His started crying and couldn't walk. This made me very upset. I picked him up, carried him about a mile home. When we got there, his mother took care of him, and then she asked if I was hurt. I said no. She asked me why I was crying. I told her that I hurt when Scotty hurt. I don't know why she hugged me so hard.
Scotty had some annoying flaws, but our personalities complimented each other very well. While I was laid back and reserved, Scotty was hyper and gregarious. Where Scotty was impulsive, I was more thoughtful. Where I was more introverted, when I was with him, Scotty was quite social and outgoing. The sum of the two of us was greater than the parts.
Scotty's worst fault was his tendency to “exaggerate” or to add a lot of “flavor” to his conversations to make himself look bigger. While annoying and embarrassing to me, this caused him a great deal of trouble with other kids. Some of the neighborhood kids quickly began picking on him by yelling things like:
Scotty, Scotty, sits on a potty,
thinking up lies to tell,
liar, liar pants on fire,
Scotty is going to hell.
This always upset Scotty and made him cry. A mean little girl named Marcy went entirely too far with it. I got in trouble for pushing her down and yelling at her. Was I ever furious! The very idea that my angel Scotty would be going anywhere near hell!
I hugged him tight, my heartbreaking to feel my friend racked with sobs, obviously very much afraid. The preachers made hell sound like such a scary and dreadful place. I told him; “There's no way that you're going to hell, Scotty. You're a sweet kid. Jesus just has to love you.”
He sobbed in my arms and sniffed, “But lying is a sin. You go to hell for sinning.”
Concerned, I held him out at arm's length, so I could see his eyes, but he looked down. “Why do you do it, Scotty?”
He didn't want to look at me. “I don't know”, he snuffled. “I'm just so little, it makes me feel bigger somehow. Awe, Jimmy, I don't want to go to hell. I don't want to go anywhere without you.” Then he started bawling.
I hugged him real tight and said, “You're not going to hell, Scotty. You're not going anywhere without me, and that's a promise.”
He looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Really? You mean it?”
“I will never leave you”, I said, hugging him tight and lifting him off the ground.
Much to my surprise, my long-time friends Barry and David, neighbors from up the hill and two years my senior, absolutely hated Scotty. I was quite astonished by their reaction to him. They had never been petty or mean before. They called him a baby and a little girl for crying. Of course, this only served to upset Scotty more and cry harder. I was furious at them and never looked at them in the same way again.
I didn't understand why, but the more people picked on Scotty, the worse it hurt me. I tried hard to protect him from meanness. How could people be so mean to him? Such behavior didn't make any sense to me, being so contrary to my very nature. I resolved that if they were going to be cruel to Scotty, they would have to go through me to do it.
In the months and years to follow, Scotty and I only grew closer. We became constant companions on new adventures every day, sharing everything along the way. Bikes, snakes and poison ivy - BB guns, cool rocks and slingshots. There was nothing that we kept from each other - two halves of a happy-go-lucky whole in constant motion exploring, discovering and having fun for no particular reason other than being together.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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