Do What You're Told!

Do What You’re Told

A Dream From My Childhood

When I was five, going on six, I lived in Kentucky. My mother, brother and I lived in a four room coal mining house, and the railroad tracks ran right behind the property. When I first saw that place I was treated to such treasures as slugs the size of candy bars, fleas that coated my bobby socks, rats the size of cats and cockroaches aplenty.

My mother was Superwoman, as most women were in the late sixties, and before we inhabited that place, she managed to eradicate the roaches by simply cleaning them out. I believe it was the only case history of any one deleting a colony of roaches by making the house too clean for them. Likewise the rats. She cleaned under the house, and around the property so they would have no where to hide. As far as the fleas go, a little “D-con” did the trick.

The slugs were another story, however. Late at night when the air was still and heavy, we would go on the back porch and see the flashlight-sized blobs of flesh climbing the pillars, leaving glistening trails of slime in the moonlight. My mom would send us out with those cylindrical boxes of Morton Salt, and let us pour the salt on the slugs. They would dissolve grotesquely.

That four room house in Kentucky was a place of wonder, weirdness, love and adventure. It was also a place that spawned nightmares. I had quite a few scary dreams in that place, one of which sticks in my mind like flypaper.

I remember the dream took place in the summer when I was six years old. In the dream, my brother and I were playing a game. We had a large cloth sack, and we would take turns dragging each other around the back yard in it. The game had one simple rule. You couldn’t peek out of the bag until the person dragging you had finished dragging. I distinctly remember my brother climbing in the sack, me twisting the top closed and dragging his bulky form as far as my skinny six-year-old body could; which wasn’t far, from what I recall. He didn’t peek out though, he knew how to follow rules.

Next it was my turn. I climbed in the sack and my brother twisted it shut. We began at the neighbors side of the house and he dragged me for quite a while. I remember he wasn’t talking much, and my curiosity got the best of me. I knew the rules of the game, and I rarely broke rules, but my heart was almost bursting with the urge to peek out. So feeling very naughty and curious, I pushed the puckered twist of the bag open and peered up at my brother. He was near the old apple tree and I could see the back of his buzz-cut bobbing as he walked. Soon he realized something was different. He turned around. I remember screaming silently as I saw the fangs in his mouth and his glowing red eyes.

It sounds rather silly, but to a child of six, it was terrifying. In those days, any act of defiance was met with swift retribution, and I guess my little act of defiance in my dream was no different!