Chapter 6
THE TRIP
or
Meeting the Family
or
A Mother's Wisdom
THE TRIP
or
Meeting the Family
or
A Mother's Wisdom
I went bursting into the house screaming and shouting and slamming the doors as I went through them! "Mommy, Mommy!" I shouted.
"Misery!" my mother scolded as she looked up from my baby sister who was nursing and suddenly started crying from all the commotion I was creating. "Hold it down! Your sister is trying..." Just then she stopped in mid sentence as she saw my tattered and bloodied body and just sat there and stared at me in a state of horrific shock. Since my meeting with Annette I had totally forgotten about the crash but I was still covered cut up, bruised, and covered in dirt, twigs and leaves with spots of dried blood all over. I gave it little thought.
"Misery!" my mom finally uttered as she gained control over her emotions. "What happened to you?"
"I met Annette!" I shouted through my big stupid grin. I was so excited about what had happened. I was telling my mother all about my meeting with Annette and my upcoming trip to Disneyland. I didn't say a word about the crash. But my dear mother protector wasn't listening. She quickly laid the baby down and came over for a closer look.
"Just look at you." she interrupted. She began to brush the dirt from my face and clothes and ran her hand with care through my as she assessed the damage done to my young body. "We need to get you cleaned up."
"But mommy!" I pleaded, wanting to tell her the whole story. "I met Annette! I met Annette! You know, from the Mickey Mouse Club!" It was no use. My mother was rushing me down the hall to the bathroom. My mother protector was oblivious to everything I was trying to tell her.
"What happened? What did you do? How did you do all this?" my mother fired in rapid succession not waiting for any answer. Hadn't she been listening at all? That's exactly what I was trying to tell her. Besides, I hap important things to do! I had to get ready. I had clothes to pack. I had underwear to pack! I was going to Disneyland! But all my mother could do was to take a warm wash cloth and dab at my wounds. Then she reached over for the bottle of Methiolade and began applying that. Oh, did that hurt!
I hadn't hurt since I looked up into those big dark eyes of Annette. Those eyes had put me in such a heavenly bliss that all my pains had gone away. But now, at the hands of my mother protector, in the name of healing and sanitizing, in the midst of my futile attempts to relate the great events of the most exciting day of my life, the pain hit home. My eyes grew wide and started to water. I grew about two inches and let out a blood curdling scream that was heard around the world.
Once my mother had finished her first aid treatment and had me looking like I was in a much worse accident than I really was, she finally sat down with a sigh of exhaustion. Again I rattled off the events of the day with all the excitement of before. I told her how I had met Annette, and that she had invited me to watch the Mickey Mouse Club with her the next day, and that I needed to go and pack. My mother sat there and smiled. I though she was so proud of me because I was going to be on the Mickey Mouse Show with Annette. Then she started to chuckle. Now I had heard that chuckle before and knew that that was not a good chuckle. She knew something that I didn't know.
"Misery," she said with all the seriousness she could muster at the time. "That's just Annette down the street." Then she winked at me. "She's teasing you."
No, I didn't believe her. I argued with her saying that sure it was Annette down the street, but she was also the Annette from the Mickey Mouse Club. She told me so. She looked like her, too. And she invited me to the show with her. It had to be her.
My mother was still holding back the laughter in the back of her throat continued to try and convince me. She told me that Annette was the neighbor's daughter, named Annette, and she was home from college for the holidays. Then she warned me not to get my hopes up. But I knew deep in my heart that Annette was the Annette she told me she was. Why would she lie to me? But my mother continued to argue with me telling me that she was sure Annette was telling me the truth about being Annette, but she just wasn't that Annette that I thought she was.
The more we argued about Annette and being or not being who she really claimed to be, or made me think she was someone other than who she said she was, though there never was any argument about her being Annette, just not the Annette I thought her to be, the more determined I was to stand up for what I thought was right and to prove my mother wrong. I was so absolutely positive that Annette was Annette, the one on the Mickey Mouse Club, that I went straight to my room, pulled the suitcase out from under my bed and began to pack.
Just as I finished packing I was called to dinner. I went in quietly, ate my dinner, glared at my mother, told my father good night, and went straight to bed. I didn't sleep a wink that night. But I dreamed every minute I was in bed. I dreamed about going to Disneyland with Annette, and meeting Mickey Mouse, and being on TV.
"Misery!" my mother scolded as she looked up from my baby sister who was nursing and suddenly started crying from all the commotion I was creating. "Hold it down! Your sister is trying..." Just then she stopped in mid sentence as she saw my tattered and bloodied body and just sat there and stared at me in a state of horrific shock. Since my meeting with Annette I had totally forgotten about the crash but I was still covered cut up, bruised, and covered in dirt, twigs and leaves with spots of dried blood all over. I gave it little thought.
"Misery!" my mom finally uttered as she gained control over her emotions. "What happened to you?"
"I met Annette!" I shouted through my big stupid grin. I was so excited about what had happened. I was telling my mother all about my meeting with Annette and my upcoming trip to Disneyland. I didn't say a word about the crash. But my dear mother protector wasn't listening. She quickly laid the baby down and came over for a closer look.
"Just look at you." she interrupted. She began to brush the dirt from my face and clothes and ran her hand with care through my as she assessed the damage done to my young body. "We need to get you cleaned up."
"But mommy!" I pleaded, wanting to tell her the whole story. "I met Annette! I met Annette! You know, from the Mickey Mouse Club!" It was no use. My mother was rushing me down the hall to the bathroom. My mother protector was oblivious to everything I was trying to tell her.
"What happened? What did you do? How did you do all this?" my mother fired in rapid succession not waiting for any answer. Hadn't she been listening at all? That's exactly what I was trying to tell her. Besides, I hap important things to do! I had to get ready. I had clothes to pack. I had underwear to pack! I was going to Disneyland! But all my mother could do was to take a warm wash cloth and dab at my wounds. Then she reached over for the bottle of Methiolade and began applying that. Oh, did that hurt!
I hadn't hurt since I looked up into those big dark eyes of Annette. Those eyes had put me in such a heavenly bliss that all my pains had gone away. But now, at the hands of my mother protector, in the name of healing and sanitizing, in the midst of my futile attempts to relate the great events of the most exciting day of my life, the pain hit home. My eyes grew wide and started to water. I grew about two inches and let out a blood curdling scream that was heard around the world.
Once my mother had finished her first aid treatment and had me looking like I was in a much worse accident than I really was, she finally sat down with a sigh of exhaustion. Again I rattled off the events of the day with all the excitement of before. I told her how I had met Annette, and that she had invited me to watch the Mickey Mouse Club with her the next day, and that I needed to go and pack. My mother sat there and smiled. I though she was so proud of me because I was going to be on the Mickey Mouse Show with Annette. Then she started to chuckle. Now I had heard that chuckle before and knew that that was not a good chuckle. She knew something that I didn't know.
"Misery," she said with all the seriousness she could muster at the time. "That's just Annette down the street." Then she winked at me. "She's teasing you."
No, I didn't believe her. I argued with her saying that sure it was Annette down the street, but she was also the Annette from the Mickey Mouse Club. She told me so. She looked like her, too. And she invited me to the show with her. It had to be her.
My mother was still holding back the laughter in the back of her throat continued to try and convince me. She told me that Annette was the neighbor's daughter, named Annette, and she was home from college for the holidays. Then she warned me not to get my hopes up. But I knew deep in my heart that Annette was the Annette she told me she was. Why would she lie to me? But my mother continued to argue with me telling me that she was sure Annette was telling me the truth about being Annette, but she just wasn't that Annette that I thought she was.
The more we argued about Annette and being or not being who she really claimed to be, or made me think she was someone other than who she said she was, though there never was any argument about her being Annette, just not the Annette I thought her to be, the more determined I was to stand up for what I thought was right and to prove my mother wrong. I was so absolutely positive that Annette was Annette, the one on the Mickey Mouse Club, that I went straight to my room, pulled the suitcase out from under my bed and began to pack.
Just as I finished packing I was called to dinner. I went in quietly, ate my dinner, glared at my mother, told my father good night, and went straight to bed. I didn't sleep a wink that night. But I dreamed every minute I was in bed. I dreamed about going to Disneyland with Annette, and meeting Mickey Mouse, and being on TV.
