I may have told this story before, but here goes.
My sister and I had an obsession with provoking each other when the other one didn’t doubt it.
Did sis bend over to tie her shoes? She got kicked from behind to fall.
Me carrying a load of towels to the linen closet? A ninja punch from Sis to make the towels fall to the floor.
And we did this all the time, every day.
While I was in high school, I made cash baling hay. And it was a LOT of money. Sis was two years younger, and not too comfortable about having to do all the household chores for a mite, while I was gone out to the fields making serious money.
It had been a particularly hot day, and everybody was pleased the work was done for the day and ready to get home for a shower, supper, and rest. I had been in the warehouse loading bales all day, so I was super sweaty and covered in dirt.
I walked down to the river to wash off my hands, arms, and face. I was near the bridge that leads to my grandfather’s place. The wall line went to the bridge, and then once across the bridge, the railing line started up again. There was an electric wire that operated down the fence line (this was to keep cows from rubbing up against the fence to push it over). The wire went about a paw off the ground, then got on under the bridge platform, and up to the fence beyond.
My sister was tossing rocks into the river to splash me. I made a comprehensive motion with my hand and nailed her with creek water. Outraged, she pushed me hard. I flew sideways and put out my hands to keep myself from doing a face plant into the river. This causes my hands to be in the water, and my cheek to catch up with the electric wire.
Tremendous pain shot through me. I was like a fish on hot tar. With a herculean effort, I survived to throw myself to the bank. My heart was running like a trip hammer, I couldn’t breathe, my body was shaking, and black spots were before my eyes. My cheek had a burn mark on it.
“Oh, my God! Are you all right?” my sister asked.
I signaled her to me. As she kneeled over me, I murmured, “When I get up, I’m going to kill you. Do yourself a favor…RUN.”
And by killing her, I meant to beat her until all life procedures disappeared. Seriously, I was about to make myself an only child.
She peeked in my eyes and understood I wasn’t joking. The fear came upon her and she backed away gradually, then turned and bolted for the gate. She climbed over, ran across the road, and led the way for home. Luckily for her, Mom was in the lawn. Sis’s cry caused her to whirl to find out what the explosion was.
Sis was running the run of one who is stunned. Behind her, I had waked up, and given hunt. Sis lost valuable seconds climbing the gate. I jumped over the wall like it was a speed bump. The bloodlust was upon me. My legs pumped like pinwheels, and the gap was closing.
Mom walked in between me and Sis. I grabbed her up, set her to the side, and kept after Sis, and I didn’t even break pace. Mom yelled for Dad to come quick.
Sis entered the house, ran into the bathroom, and locked the door. I heard her sigh, then giggle in relief.
So I pulled out my pocketknife and stuck it in the keyhole and twisted. The door popped open, and Sis let out a shout. I strode into the bathroom. Her death was near.
Dad inserted himself in my way. My Dad is no physical slouch…he threw 150 lb. stumps in the back of a deuce and a half all day for a living. Even pushing at me, he was sliding back. I would not be rejected my revenge.
“What happened, baby?” he asked calmly. So I told him. He walked aside and looked at Sis. “Sorry, sweetie, but she’s right. You need to be beaten.” And with that, he left the bathroom.
Sis trembled in the bathtub, her eyes broad with terror, tears streaming down her face. I came to the edge of the tub, overlooking over her, my face a mask of dark rage. I raised my hand. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, not being able to face death coming for her.
At the last second, she stared at my outstretched hand only inches from her face. She squared her jaw and glared. I reached out…
…and turned the shower on.
She was bathed. And I held her there until she was fully bathed.
“Consider this mercy,” I said as I walked out of the bathroom.
We’ve gotten along ever since.
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