[1]: Just a couple of southern kids
Untitled: Chapter1
The year was 1997, and all was well in our sleepy little town of Lockhart, Alabama. Being right in the middle of June, if anyone knows the south, you know it's hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hades. A scorching 98 degrees, it's a dry heat that can only be described as, "Oh, I see the sun been beating down on Ya, kind of heat. But, not as close as, "its as hot as the forth of July." Which wasn't too far from the damn truth.
I was 9 years old, and as onry as any of the southern girls on the block. Which to me just meant , I could probably run faster than my older sisters and climb trees as quick as our hellion brothers. Mama was always yelling at me to get my chores done, or get to the house, but I wanted to run. Run against the hot Alabama wind.
I was tall for my age, and skinny as a rail. Some of the older ladies said, that I needed some meat on my bones. Well I just fluffed them off when they say that. I'm fit as fiddle and fast as the wind. Alabama wind, which today wasn't blowing at all.
I sat on the porch of our rickety two toned blue double wide trailer. I was wondering where my older bother Freddy was. Freddy was a year and half older than me and thought he didn't have be tied down with the likes of me, even thou mama told him I had to go along most of the time. It was 8 o'clock in the morning and he thought he would be smart and take off before I got up and around. I sat on the steps looking under the lattice covering the porch to see if that bugger was hiding from me when all of sudden, BAM! Rock hit me square in the side of my thigh. "Good God Freddy! You scared me so bad I almost peed my pants!” I said.
He stared to laugh so hard I thought he done caught a fit, because he was rolling on the ground and caught his breath for a minute.
Crap, wish he would have just died right there, the dumb ole jerk. He got up and grabbed a little stick, taunting me with it. "Scaredy pants, scardy pants, 'fraid of your own shadow."
My eyes welled up and I would have cried if it was for my dang ole pride. "Freddy Dale your so mean! Mean as a cotton mouth black snake!"
"Oh shucks Katie Anne, I'm sorry. Please don't tell mama I hit you with that rock, she'll have my butt." I rolled my eyes and looked across the street towards where my older, more curvier, sister who was talking to some boys.
She was so weird. She wore dark makeup and short shorts but had daddy's flannels on all the time . She dyes her hair different colors every week and her music to me sounded like the squealing cats down the road when they get caught in the drain pipes. Her name is Patricia Lynn. But she Insist everyone call her Pat now, which sounds like a boy name to me. But she would hit you if you called her Patty anymore since she got her boob's in last summer. Now she just sits around in the front yard blaring her music and wearing her sun glasses tanning for the boys next door. Mama gets on her and they just fuss and fight about it and Patty takes off.
Mama don't even got the nerves to mess with her no more since daddy had an accident at the mill sometime ago. Now all he does is sit under the long leafy pine in the backyard and drink his whiskey. And yell at my other 2 brothers Jeff and Blake to do this or that around the trailer and shop.
Daddy used to be in the shop almost night and day working on a mower or cutting some wood for a new cabinet. Or making something pretty for mama. Now he sits and drinks and rubs his ole bum leg that got smashed at the mill.
They had to take Daddy in the ambulance and he came home with half of his leg and 2 missing fingers. Mama was glad she told one of the lady's down at the church it wasn't his wedding finger cause they had sold the old Ford truck and she had worked at the diner and dad at the mill all summer long to get that ring to put on his cranky ole finger . Then they all belly laugh as a
I steal a couple sugar cookies reserved for after church if you was good. It was a blessing they said he was alive. I don't know about that he seems to do more cursing then blessing under that damn tree now.
So I look at Freddy and say you won’t always get to treat me this way. As I stand up straighter and start my miss America run way walk, threw the mostly dry dirt front yard. I’m gonna be someone someday. Someone who’s someone’s wife…someone who….
You ain’t gonna be nothing but a heifer Kattie Anne. I’m a Hefner not a heifer you jackass! I yell back.
Yes, I get all hell for being Kattie Anne Hefner. A skinny red headed Tom boy from Alabama. God why can’t I look like Patty with her big boob’s and long brown hair or is it blue this week… Ah. Who knows who cares I’ll grow up one day, I’ll be someone special you’ll see Freddy Dean…..
