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Wild Thang

My sister Mary younger by two years came with computer disc in hand to share what she had amassed concerning family history.We looked at photos of our parents before we had done the old number on them.They looked bright eyed and hopeful.During our travels down memory lane she pulled up a newspaper article written the day after she was born and the day our house burnt down.
At home that day was Deloris who was sixteen my brother Raymond four and myself mere days from turning two.

Years later and I mean like fifty years later he ,Raymond ,came clean taking responsibility for the
fire.He was playing with matches in what in all actuality was a well aged kindling box.When she started,she went kids.

Deloris said she remembered that day well as when
Dad returned that evening from the hospital to find the smoldering ruins my oldest brother who was fourteen ask him should he gather some kindling.This was a job he had to be told daily to do
though he should have known it was his contribution.I don't know if he was trying to be nice as my Dad was so distraught or if it was a safe bet as unless we were going camping it was a moot point.

Any the way the paper quoted my Dads boss who was in charge of gathering supplies.Mr. Johns said
We had just welcomed our eleventh family member.The article also stated that everything had been lost including all supplies for the newborn girl
So a real push was going forward to rehabilitate
the family.

My sister turned from the computer to face me and said you were almost two were they successful in your rehabilitation? Nah,my reply ,I was too far gone I had already been incensed.I would have said right there by the pole beans but it was the middle of January.

I was laughing with my brother about it and he said you know when we lived down by that levee we were just a notch above feral.My theory on that, when it didn't matter what you did you would be getting your butt busted along with it came a lot of freedom.You had nothing to lose.

We jumped off roof eaves with umbrellas.We taunted and ran from a half crazy cow.We used an old refrigerator door to slide down the side of the levee.We played on sand bars at the river.

Then we moved to town and (civilization) and really went to hell in a hand basket.So much
for rehabilitation. Oh well,I love all my uncivilized feral ,freedom fighter litter mates.

Mom said if by rehabilitate they meant restore guess they did as all brought was junk and rags.
What we had.

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