At any rate, Dad decided that Gary should make him laugh by acting like a clown, if a clown was what he wanted to be. Well, he either got bored with this game or decided it would be more humiliating for Gary if his "audience" became his little sister. So I was called to the punishment room--whichever room this may have been--to be Gary's audience. I immediately saw the hurt, humiliated look on Gary's face and felt the pit in my throat grow. I felt tears well in my eyes and tried to swallow down the lump because crying was never allowed. I couldn't laugh. There was nothing funny about Gary, who incidentally was the only person in the household who was ever kind to me, half loping/half dancing around the room in an attempt to be 'funny'. Now Dad's ire turns to me. "He will do this until he's funny. Don't you think he's funny?" Then back to Gary, "You're not funny enough, Puke (that was our name when we disgusted him, which was quite often). I thought you knew how to be funny, Clown. Keep going until your little sister finds you funny." So I laughed. I laughed and I hated Dad with all that I was for doing this to me. It was the first time in my life that I felt hate--pure, raw hatred, and I did not like the feeling at all. Gary never did anything to me that I should have to punish him and I hadn't done anything wrong to be punished by making me be a part of hurting my brother.
After he made me laugh, I was ordered to drag him through the house so everyone could see his funny act. We could all just have a great big party at Gary's expense--wouldn't that be fun? And ostracize me while we're at it by letting Gary resent me for being the one to drag him through the house and my other two siblings resent me for hurting the only nice person in the household. Everyone loved Gary because he was always easy going and kind--no matter what was going on. He was always the one to tell Dave and Dory to stop picking on me. He was the one who let Dave beat him in the boxing rings Dad set up from house to house so Dave would feel tough. He was the one who told Dory she was cool and pretty and things no one else would say because we didn't see them. Gary saw them. Gary saw the good. Gary was the good. And damn Dad for making me be any part of hurting that goodness.
I still feel a queasiness in my stomach when I think about that day. It is a rock that I'm still trying to maneuver around but it's like the Grand Canyon and Mount Everest combined in the middle of my meager little brook...but like Dori, I "just keep swimming."
Jen ;-)
Wow! You're really good! (no I'm not just saying that) I've read it three times now, and the title could not have been better. It sounds like a movie or book title. Wow!
ReplyDeleteIt is a true God given talent to be able to stir up the kind of emotions and memories that you do with your writing.
Although the memory may be percieved as bad, it's really fantastic. You were able to help me remember that this is part of who I am. Sincerely - Thank you! More, more more!!!