The Van
This week I've decided to write about the weird stories of my childhood: that when I think back on, I can't believe my parents didn't call the cops, that I didn't die, that I wasn't emotionally scarred, or all of the above. At the time, the events were no big deal to me, but NOW, I just shake my head in shock and disbelief.My first story happened when I was in third grade.
I always took the bus after school to the Miami Youth center where I played all afternoon, loosely supervised until my mom picked me up. On this particular day, my group of about 10 was going to the pool- very exciting, very exciting. We were all in our bathing suits already and just waiting for Andy to tell us that the van was here and it was time to go.
While killing time eating some icecream, two pals and I saw the white van pull up. Andy got out and disappeared somewhere and we three decided to go claim our seats. We climbed into the coveted "1st row in the back," closed the van door and waited for everyone else to join us. Man, were they going to be jealous when they found out we got in the van first! After maybe 15 or 20 minutes, the three of us are absolutely drenching in sweat. I mean drops are literally pouring down our faces, our arms. It's probably about 100 degrees out, which meant who knows how hot it was inside that van. Our excited chatter about the pool soon turned to talk of how hot we were becoming. One boy decides he can't take it and leaves, of course, shutting the door behind him. Now it's just me and one other boy, sweating, or should I say, slow cooking ourselves to death. I wanted to get out, but being a third grader, I wanted to keep my seat more, (priorities, folks!)but one thing was for certain: I had never been so hot in my life. Every inch of my body was soaking wet. My pal then said (get ready for this), "I bet I can stay in the van longer than you can." And what did I say to that? "Betcha can't." And there we sat, two third graders, totally unsupervised, in 100 degree weather, closed up in a van with not even a window cracked. After awhile we were too hot to even talk. We just sat there...sweating. And I wasn't sure about him, but I was becoming really sleepy.
I'm not sure how long we sat in there baking, but it was a long time and finally Andy spotted us, ran over, yanked open the door and with a look of terror on his face asked how long we had been sitting in there. When we told him we had seen him pull the van up and came to get in, he looked horrified. We, obviously didn't see what the big deal was.
Needless to say, the "I bet I can stay in the van longer than you can" game could have easily killed my friend and I. And why no one noticed two kids in the van for so long, or why my mom didn't call the cops because her daughter was almost killed due to negligence, is beyond me.
And from time to time this memory comes to mind and I think, "Oh my GOD! I COULD HAVE DIED IN THAT VAN! DIED!" It still just absolutely shocks me.
P.S. If anyone has any weird stories from their childhood they'd like to share this week, post away!
posted by katy @ 10:51 AM
4 comments
4 Comments:
When I was in fourth or fifth grade the popular thing was "sleepovers"--not slumber parties (that was for girls). I remember one particular sleepover at my house: me, my neighbor Zach, and a buch of kids I don't even remember. I lived in the country, about five miles from town, and we had a big house with a basement--the sleepovers were always in the basement. Invariably, we would stay up late playing video games, watching Skin-e-max, and trying to see who fell asleep last.
That night, we had a brilliant idea: we would sneak into town! Why hadn't we thought of this before? We all got dressed and slipped out the basement door (at about 1AM). We decided on going to Mr. Mart (a gas station) since it was the only place any of us knew would be open at 1AM (of course, it wouldn't be, but we didn't know that). The sky was clear, the stars bright, and the moon out, but we brought flashlights to make it more like "A-Team".
After walking for a good long time, we heard a car. It suddeny dawned on us how much trouble we could get in for being out this late, and we jumped over a fence into a pasture. We continued walking along the fence-row, getting more and more jittery. After all--it's about 1:30AM in the middle of the country. Soon, we were all snapping at one another: especially anyone who wanted to turn around.
We had just passed a sheep farm (the only one I know of near Nixa) when we heard another car coming... only this one caught one of us in its headlights. We ran, and I tripped on something sharp--something that cut my shin and made me fall flat on my face. I was wearing shorts (good idea for tromping in the underbrush) and cut my leg pretty good. The car had stopped in the road and whoever was inside was clearly waiting for us tomove again. None of us did--we just lie in the deep grass, waiting.
My leg hurt and I could tell it was bleeding, but what could I do? We waited there for a loooong time. Suddenly, I saw the outline of a dog, trotting up beside me. It sniffed me, and started licking the blood off my leg. It was surreal! But I couldn't and didn't dare move! Eventually, the car pulled away, the dog still licking my leg. I waited a few moments, until I knew the car wasn't coming back, and I turned on my flashlight.
That was no dog! It was a coyote! I screamed, kicked at it, and started running. This scared the living shit out of the coyote, and all my friends. We ran all the way back home (I never looked back to see who got eaten by the coyote) and into the basement. I was embarassed that I was scared, because Zach acted like it was no big deal (probably because it hadn't happened to him). We super-glued my leg so it would stop bleeding and I never told my mom.
This is only a tiny glimpse into the dumb shit I did as a kid. I should really not be alive today.
oh my gosh I would have died if I had seen that coyote. How frightening!! Good story!
They should have included vans and cars along with refrigerators. Glad Jeff was around! And speaking of visiting, you are due for a one, young man.
Katie,
Just started reading your blog. The EDN ones really take me back and give me sympathetic pains. sorry.
I have a good parent/could've died story:
My mom was reading on the beach. She is one of those readers that cannot be distracted. It was early May and we were at the beach in Door County. No other people were on the beach. I was on a blow-up raft with no paddles, which I braved the ice cold water to get out far enough to float around on. Then I preceded to close my ice to enjoy the feeling of floating. The next thing I know I am FAR away from the beach and in very deep water. Mom mom who is still reading and has not even noticed my disapperance is the size of an ant. I start screaming and crying. She cannot even hear me. Eventually, I got rescued by fisherman. My mom only realized I was gone when the fisherman were close to shore with me. The other funny thing is I recounted this story recently in front of my dad. 20 years later, he had never been told that it happened. He was a little disappointed in my mom's supervision. Guess she wanted to keep that one a secret. hah.
Allison (from EDN) Jones
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