Run, Run, Run….. Runaway – Growing Up in Dublin, Texas
Del Shannon song by the same name runs through my head, as I began to type this…
“I’m walking in the rain,to the Ball and I feel a pain, and I wonder, I Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa Wonder, if you will stay, my little runaway, my run run run Runaway….”
One day we were outside at the side of the house playing catch with a hard baseball. For some reason we ended up perpendicular to the house and I was throwing the ball not only towards Ralph, but the house too. As my luck usually went during those days, I threw a wild ball to Ralph. There was no way he could have caught it. Sure enough, and in what I remember to this day, is all in slow motion, as the ball made its way to the bathroom window pane and went right through it. With the crash of the breaking glass, I instantly knew I was in BIG BIG TROUBLE.
I was going to get another licking, another ring around the rosy with my Dad, me jumping and grabbing my rear, as the metal tip of Dad’s Belt attempting to imprint a reminder on my brain, not to mention a few arrowhead like points on my behind. Worst than that I had all afternoon to think about it. Why was I always putting myself in this sort of position. The Hell, I knew I had put myself in, what could I do. What could I do?
I could leave, and never come back. I could become a Hobo, like the guys down by the stockyard railroad tracks. I really could, any thing to avoid incurring my Dad’s wrath. It was getting close to the time, that Dad came home from work, so needing to do something quick.
I decided to leave. But which way? Up down Harris street? Down Thomas Street toward the stockyards? Down Harris street with the pasture on my left? OK, up Harris street toward town. As I began to walk I noticed the tall Johnson grass, and growth of weeds that was in the ditch. Just before culvert of the shortcut road, about a half a block form our house, the urgency of it all hit me, and I stepped into the tall grass and sat down.
The grass was thick, but I could still see between and through its stalks. I was well hidden. I decided to stay here until it got dark, and then make my way into the world, and become a Hobo. ( What was I thinking I had only finished the first grade? ) As I sit there I would look toward the our house. It seemed so far away, almost small. Then I would look up the road the other way watching for Dad’s work car, ol’ Blue, his 1949 Ford Sedan. Dark Blue with the sun visor peaking over the front window like a bill of a baseball cap.
I saw Ralph and the Whitehead boys playing in the yard. Their crossing the street to our rock fort and the mesquite tree where we would built a tree house later. Mom came home, and pulled the 1954 sky blue Mercury behind the house, next to the back porch steps. It would not be long before Dad would arrive, after which it would not be long before it would get dark.
It seemed like an eternity but then I heard a car, turning my head away from the house and looking up the road, it hit me like a lightning bolt. Ol’ Blue with Dad in control, driving it toward the house. As he went by, the white dust from the caliche road rose and fell onto the ground and along the side of the road, on the Johnson grass and me. Parking behind the Mercury I could see him get out and began walking to the back porch, and then into the house. I saw my Brother Ralph come outside into the yard, and then disappear in front of the house. I saw my oldest Brother Ken get out of his friends old car, and his going into the front of the house. It was getting late.
I thought it must be supper time, and I thought of Mom’s biscuits, and wondered what she was cooking to go with them. It seemed like a long time after that, but it still twilight, I saw my brothers come out of the house. They were yelling my name, calling for me. As they did they would look in all directions. Then Ralph started towards what I thought was the Whitehead’s house as I heard him calling from the other side of the front of our house. Ken was coming up the road toward me, as he continued to call out for me. As he came closer I laid down and curled up in a ball hoping on hope he would not see me. I tried to stop breathing, so I would be perfectly still as was almost upon me. He didn’t notice me at all, as he walked right by me, and up shortcut road continuing to call out my name. I thought this is a good place for me to be hiding.
After awhile it seemed that the whole neighborhood was out looking for me. There were the Whitehead Boys, Mike Brown from the corner house on Harris street, the neighbor lady, our landlady (what was her name?), and others I did not even know. All of them wondering back and forth. Each of them passing by me, calling my name. It was getting dark now.
Asleep, I awoke to a gentle tug on my arms, and then being lifted up. It was like I was in a dream, and then I awoke to find that it was my Brother Kenneth. He had found me. Awake now, panic gripped me, along with the fear I had for my Dad.
We went through the back door and Ken let me down to the floor, as Mom came up and knelt down beside me, and gave me a hug and told me how much she was worried about me. Then she took me by the hand and lead me toward the living and dining room. She let go of my hand as she had lead me to the front, and just to the side of my Dad’s Chair.
He reached out with his huge hand and I knew I had been had. Awaiting the steal grip of my Dad’s strong hands I was strangely surprised to feel I warm gentle touch, which from him I did not remember ever having before. He said he was glad that I was home, and alright. He asked why I had did what I did. I told him. He gave me a squeeze, which I took for a hug, and then he left me in his lap with his arm around me.
By the way there was no ring-a-round the rose rag dance, I did not get a whipping that evening.
I felt loved and cared for, and most importantly it was from my Dad.
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© 2006 Texas Tortilla Factory – Mike Vauthier
Tuesday, August 29, 2006