My Mother's Name Was Victoria. Part 2
Monday, June 20, 2011
My mother was really superb in a remarkable , and beautiful way when she wore a black skirt. She would have made a fantastic female officer, or detective. She was fearless, and of course my father was as well.
My mother had a very kind, and loving soft side to her. She had a habit of hugging me practically to death when I was little. I would say stuff like , " Oh my God, here she comes again to crush the life out of me."
She was like a lioness the way she protected my older brother, and I. She defended us to the hilt if anyone said anything crumby about us, but if we did wrong, we knew about it.
I never lied. Mom hated liars. She was vicious if dad ever lied. Pop was neither the kind of man you just did not fool with, but mom could have him for desert, after having me as and side order snack. She worshipped my brother. I am reasonably sure I was pretty jealous of my mother's adoration of him.
The worst thing about it was that my brother rubbed it in. Oh, I thought the world of my brother anyway, and was very proud of him. He was brilliant in school . He aced everything , and every grade. His bedroom had wall to wall books.
He was a genius. He had hundreds of hard bound books, and thousands of paper back science fiction novels. He had, Plato, Aristotle, Poe, Emerson, Shakespeare, all the classics on his own hand made book shelves. My brother enjoyed having nice varnished shelves to display works like War And Peace, his encyclopedias, dictionaries, world maps, science books, and he made his own telescopes. Together we made our own fireworks. We knew how to create gun powder very easily. In fact every Fourth Of July we created a nice large little fire cracker of our very own that was loud enough to wake the dead in the Egyptian pyramids.
We always had a plan. The plan was to light it up in the middle of our family property, and then deny we had anything to do with it to our local town marshal. Sure enough he would come barreling in our yard with his black and white bubble gum cop car machine with the siren on, and say something like, " Did you all hear and explosion by any chance ? I guess you all know it is illegal to shoot fireworks in the city limits around here."
The marshal had to know we did it. He couldn't be that ridiculously dumb. He was a perfumed , womanizing cheating fellow, and a crumby barber. He always brought tears to my eyes by cutting my hair too short. He made my ears very big by cutting my hair too short around them, and that would well up the water works in my eyes. I think mom told him to cut it real short around my ears so I would not have to go back too often. We would convincingly say things like, " Oh Lord no ! That is dangerous blowing fireworks like that in town. Maybe some hunters fired their twelve gauge shotguns to celebrate , chief ."
" No, that was way too loud to be a shotgun, and way louder than a cherry bomb," the chief would say."
Mom , and dad would raise their usual hell about it, but that was about all. The chief would never question mom, or dad. He knew better than too bother with them because he needed their votes badly in order to be re elected. Naturally my brother and I denied blowing up the firecracker. We made a long fuse, and then ran real fast in the opposite direction.
I don't mean to brag, but my brother , and I were pretty good looking young chaps. He was a first class swimmer, and looked sharp in his tight little black bathing suit with his little butterball butt swimming in the summer pools like a seal. Girls thought he was a God.
I was becoming handsome, that much I was sure of a hundred percent. Mom could not keep her hands off of me, hugging me to death every moment. Squeezing me so hard. Girls said I was so cute. Sometimes little neighbor teens would wrestle with me on our living room sofa, and then pin me down with their long locks of golden hair dangling in my face. I loved looking at my own sexy manly young legs in a full length mirror. I was so good looking. My body was so perfect. I exercised all the time. I fell in love with myself, and with my nice looking features. I had brown eyes, and golden brown hair. My brother had black hair. My mother had soft brown hair. My dad had sort of black hair that was kind of curly.
When my mother drove me to school I was really proud of her, and kind of showed her off. She would kiss me every time I stepped out of the car and say, " I'll see you later sugar ."
Dad would hug me once in a great while, but not for very long. Men just do not do that very much. My brother, and I wrestled sometimes. He was always trying to rough me up I guess. I think he wanted me to be able to defend myself. He was eight years older than I.
To Be Continued :
God Bless Everyone.