\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/928298-Ghetto-Famulous
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Family · #928298
The short story of a ghetto family's camping trip.
Although my family did not have a traditional upbringing, we were very much a traditional family. My siblings and I spent a portion of our lives as children in foster homes with different nationalities. When we were finally reunited, it was like a melting pot of personalities and characters. I had three brothers, two sisters, my mother Grady, and a new black stepfather named Wayne.

The oldest was my brother Leon, the bad guy; he was unusually ruthless considering his age. He seemed to have already done and been through everything in his fourteen years. Michael, who was ten years, old was the house jester, always playing tricks on us and trying to make us laugh. Albert who was eight years old was the fighter; he thought it was fun to punch faces. My sisters were perhaps the two normal children of the bunch. Sheila was six years old, shy and very quiet. Ebony who was four years old was too small to have a personality or so I thought, and of course myself Dondi, I was twelve years old the adventurer, I enjoyed exploring abandon buildings and taking any dare one had to offer. Then there were my parents, my mom who was extremely street wise but was also a classy woman, and Wayne our new step father, a proud strong black man who was trying to show the woman he loved that he was willing to accept this wild bunch.

We left our foster homes and arrived in the Bronx in the summer of 1982. Our new stepfather thought it would be a good idea if we went on a camping trip to get to know each other and create a bond, so we did. We uncomfortably climbed into an old station wagon my stepfather had borrowed and began our trip. Our stepfather tried to create conversation by discussing and asking questions about cartoon characters, an idea we all enjoyed except for Leon, who was too cool for such childish discussion. At one point my stepfather asked, “Who was Donald Duck's girlfriend?” My brother Michael the jester quickly and without thought replied, “Donald’s fuck”. Everyone froze and became silent as my stepfather pulled the car over, slowly turned to Michael and in a Clint Eastwood like voice said, “I’m going to let that one slide”. We all knew that this man meant business and we drove off. The rest of the ride was quiet aside from the occasional “Ouch stop that!” coming from my sisters as Albert punched on them and the sporadic release of gas from Michael, who thought it was funny that we were trapped and had to smell it.

When we arrived at the campsite we had a new found understanding of the term getting fresh air. We quickly evacuated the old station wagon and stood in awe at the beauty of the great outdoors. We were all products of the New York City ghetto so this was all new to us. Leon saw a pretty white girl in the campsite nearest to ours and without hesitation proceeded to work his magic; the rest of us began to unload the station wagon. When we were done setting up, I sat and observed at what was in a sense, my new family. My mom was making mud pies with my two little sisters. Wayne was showing Albert how to throw a proper left hook, and Michael was feverishly rubbing two sticks together while sweat poured from his face, not knowing there was a book of matches three feet behind him. I thought to myself, this was the perfect time to do some exploring. As I ran into the woods I could hear my moms faint yell “Dondi don’t go too far!”, she must think I'm a child or something, I thought to myself.

After a half-hour of strolling through the woods I heard a faint moaning noise, I quickly investigated. My imagination was running wild. I thought it could have been a deer, a bear, or even Big Foot. As I peeked through the bushes I was disappointed to see that it was only my brother Leon and the pretty white girl, I thought to myself, what is he doing with that thing? He had his tongue in her mouth. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. All of a sudden I was startled by a large pit bull dog. It was growling and slowly moving towards me like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse. This dog was too close for me to make a break for it. I was frozen with fear, as the dog slowly approached me his mood began to change; he had a look in his eyes that I never saw in a dog before. Suddenly this beast of a dog jumped at my leg. I closed my eyes and stood frozen with fear but when I didn’t feel the pain I opened my eyes and noticed that this dog was trying to make my leg the mother of his pups. In an instant my machismo showed up, I thought no dog was going to make a bitch out of my leg. I quickly grabbed the broken branch and whacked this dog with all my might. This simply infuriated the dog, he barked loudly and snapped at me. My machismo was gone as quickly as it came, and the dog proceeded to make wild passionate love to my leg. I could hear Leon and this girl laughing from behind the bushes, just then the girl yelled “get over here Romeo!” the dog immediately ran to her, “that’s what you get for being a peeping Tom!” Leon shouted. So I went back to camp feeling violated and thinking of a way to get revenge.

When I returned to the campsite Wayne, my mom, and sisters were cooking burgers, hotdogs, and chili. Michael and Albert excitedly called me over to show me a bucket with four, twelve to sixteen inch garden snakes they had found near the lake. When Leon returned, we all ate, joked, and told stories by the fire. While we were eating I devised the ultimate payback plan and quickly recruited Michael since practical jokes were his specialty. We dropped two snakes into Leon’s sleeping bag and snuck over to the other campsite and dropped two more into the white girl's sleeping bag. That night we heard the white girl screaming hysterically from our campsite. The only thing louder than her screams that night were the screams from Leon a half hour later. Michael and I celebrated by giving each other high fives as we laughed until tears came out of our eyes. It was late so we all climbed into our sleeping bags and began the long goodnights. “Good night, Mom”, “Good night, Albert” “Good night Ebony”, “Good night Wayne”. Whomp! “ Chili sure was good!" yelled Michael. We all began to laugh. Our new stepfather was right, he had helped to create an experience that none of us would ever forget, and the beginning of a bond between him and the wild bunch that until this day still lives in all of our hearts.
© Copyright 2005 Dondeez (dondeez at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/928298-Ghetto-Famulous