March Slice of Life No. 28
BACKSTORY
It was the summer of Mt. St. Helens.
We were living in Arlington, Texas – then a small town situated between Dallas and Fort Worth. By early June, a high pressure ridge had formed over the Midwest, refusing to be budged, swathing us in layers of heat.
By mid-June the mercury in thermometers was racing over 100; it topped that mark for a total of 69 days that summer. Sixty-nine days — that’s almost seven weeks!
The mercury’s high point was on June 26th and 27th when it pushed to 113 two days in a row.
For 42 consecutive days (that’s right, 42 days is SIX WEEKS, beginning on June 23 and continuing until August 3) the mercury got stuck over 100 – day and night.
At least 1250 deaths were directly attributed to the heat that summer. It is listed in records as one of the great natural disasters suffered by our country.
They say we broke 29 heat records that summer. Many of them still stand at the time of this writing.
It was during this heat wave that the following incident took place.
THE INCIDENT
“Not yet. It is still too hot,” I responded for the umpteenth time.
My three children had been pestering all week to go bike riding. But I had stalled. It was too hot. I’d rather float in our pool.
But they persisted. And I had promised we would today.
Evening came and the temperature dropped one degree as the scorching sun lowered itself in the sky. Excitedly the three mounted their bikes.
They knew the route.
There were no busy streets to cross.
They were off.
I followed behind reluctantly.
I was sitting tall on my bike trying to catch the full effect of the air moving over my body, hoping it would offer some relief from the heat. I deliberately rode under the low branches of oaks, mulberries, and pecans that lined our streets.
Suddenly something wet hit my bare arm. It had a cooling sensation. Then I felt the sudden drawing up of my skin as it dried. What?! I looked down. Splattered on my bare arm was a very large blotch of white tinged with greenish yellow and a bit of purple. Yuck, it’s been eating mulberries, I thought.
I braked, hopped off my bike, and hollered for my three little bikers. They turned around and rode back to me.
I held out my arm, “We’re going back.”
A volley of rapidly fired utterances followed.
They protested–
“What?!”
“Aw, mom!”
“But we waited all day…. “
They became resourceful–
“Here. Wipe it off with these leaves…”
“Wipe it on the bottom of your sandals.”
“It’s dry so can’t you wait ’til our ride’s over?”
They pleaded–
“Pleeeeeease…”
“We waited ALL day.”
“It’s going to be too late.”
I ask you, my reader, What would you have done?
EPILOGUE
Many summers have come and gone since that evening — the evening a bird on a branch targeted me and I aborted a promised bike ride. The memory of that evening has not faded. It is a tale often told, a tale passed to the next generation. There is no redemption for me.
_____________
Thank you to
Two Writing Teachers
I can’t help thinking…”It was so hot.’ “How hot was it?
It was so hot that…” Sorry, it’s been a long day and I am tired.
A memory beautifully written. The sacrifices we make for our children! Riding in the heat. I guess the incident was a test of your patience and reminder of what we do for love, but really there is so much we can do!
This whole post is really a long apology. Heeheehee. It was so hot – it was SO hot – it was SO HOT. And a bird pooped. And the kids… Oh my. I can see the whole thing. I can hear your kids still teasing you about it. And here you are, still apologizing. Insult to injury- I would have turned for home too! I hereby forgive you.
You nailed it, Amanda! When writing, I thought about putting (But it was so hot.) in parentheses after my last sentence. And I’m so glad that you are on my side. I need to hear that. Hahahaha!
I have heard that a bird’s droppings landing on a person means good luck; rather dubious, if you ask me. Although – it did provide you with an excuse to go home and out of the heat! I have to say that I could see the “stuff” quite vividly here, in your description (shudder!). I suspect the story is told of you with affection, however. A bit of redemption, anyway.
Good luck? That would be a stretch. Except you are right about the “excuse.” Heeheehee! True, there’s redemption found in the remembering.
I sense a tinge of regret in this post for the uncompleted bike ride–but can totally relate to the discomfort of riding in such heat, and the indignity/ outright yuckiness of being pooped on by a bird. Memorable family moment!
“Indignity” … that is a good word for it!
I love the way you shared your kids’ reactions! This is definitely the type of story legends are made of!
Thank you, Sarah. I’m so glad you stopped by today.