Open Writing

The sky was the limit for P.G. who loved to pull jokes on people. He especially liked to tease Willie and Jessie. He played one of his meaner jokes on them when we lived in the big tent. The two were about eight and ten years old. He set them up by saying he heard there was a terrible new disease called "red root" going around and that it only affected boys.

"The first thing you notice," he told the boys, "is a redness around your nuts. It just gets worse and worse and starts hurtin' real bad; and then the hide peels off."

They listened intently, eyes wide, horrified, believing every word.

A few nights later P.G. took advantage of my brothers' deep sleep. Having borrowed Mama's rouge, he applied it quickly to those areas that would supposedly be affected. When Willie and Jessie woke up the next morning
and went out to pee, they looked down in horror at their red testicles.

They raced back inside the tent and in a quivering voice Willie whispered, "I think we got the red root, Mama."

"Yeah, Mama, and I'm worse off than Willie." Jessie wailed.

When P.G. turned away to hide a snicker, Mama snapped, "Damnit, won't you ever grow up! You tell these boys what you did right now!"

P.G. confessed immediately; he was well aware of the limitations of Mama's patience where his tomfoolery was concerned.

The boys' embarrassment did not end when they learned a trick had been played on them because P.G. gleefully told everyone who would listen about what he had done. I didn't think it was a bit funny and felt sorry for my brothers.

P.G.'s brothers, Darrel and Doyle, and their friends, drank excessively and spent time with our family in those early years. I did not like having them around and my brothers hated their presence and the drinking even more, because they were usually the brunt of their jokes and teasing. They would sit around smoking cigarettes, drinking beer, and laughing as they recalled their drunken exploits. For the most part we kids were ignored unless they were teasing us or asking to be waited on. The teasing bordered on humiliation and my brothers suffered the brunt of it, especially Jessie, whose self-confidence was already eroded. This teasing only intensified Jessie's longing for his daddy. Willie felt sorry for Jessie but could do little to deflect the torment.

I, on the other hand was treated like a servant, "Bertie, could you bring me a cup of coffee," or "Bertie, could you run out there and bring me my smokes?"

From an early age I just tried to please others in an effort to gain their approval and attention. An effort that later come back to haunt me.

Phyllis and Reita had to show off to get attention. They were encouraged to perform. "Come on now, Reita, you can dance faster than that. Phyllis, let's hear you sing again. We won't laugh this time."

I didn't realize until later that alcohol was beginning to play a large part in our lives. During the work week there was no drinking. But on weekends, out of boredom or just the need to escape a life steeped in poverty, the alcohol flowed. Whether drinking was the result of our poverty or our poverty was the result of drinking is debatable. The fact is that a lifetime affair with alcohol was being established.

We enjoyed the mountains that summer and were sorry when we had to leave because P.G. developed a kidney disease that needed immediate medical attention. This may have been brought on by the alcohol although
our parents never admitted to that. His illness came on suddenly and we left in the middle of the night with all our belongings packed in the back of a large truck with sideboards. Mattresses were stacked on top of the load so that we three older kids could ride on top.

We rode fairly comfortably that cold night. We were covered with all the quilts we owned and the mattresses were soft. The truck bounced along the dirt roads as we lay on our backs staring through the boughs of the pine trees at the moonlit sky. Anxious concern for our future was our comfortless companion as we traveled throughout the cold night.

Our apprehension was well founded. Life didn't get any better when we moved to Hot Springs, New Mexico. This was long before it was renamed Truth Or Consequences in honor of the long-running TV game show. We moved there for P.G. to get medical help and he was also convinced the hot springs baths offered therapeutic benefits. The fact is, living in Hot Springs would prove to be one of the toughest times in our lives. We were again forced to live in a tent—a smaller one this time.