other company. I had to sit alone in our garden. For fun I stared down at the thick scabs on my knee. I'd been warned by Daddy not to pick them off or they'd leave scars--but who cared about scars? I began to carefully lift the edges of the crust just to see what was underneath. I didn't see a darn thing but red, tender- looking flesh, ready to bleed again.
Sun won the game in the sky and shone hot on my head. Almost heard my brains frying. Didn't want fried brains. I moved to the shade.
Now my head was aching. I bit down on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Didn't hurt but later it would swell up so big Momma would have to feel worried. That would be good. She should be worried about what was happening to me.
Used to be Momma's little boy who got lots of attention until that dratted little girl came to take my place. Soon Momma and Jory would return from ballet class. That's all they cared about--dancing and Cindy. I knew about the important things in life, what really counted most--money. Having lots of it, then you didn't have to think about needing it or how to get it. John Amos and Malcolm's book had taught me that.
"Bart," said Emma, who'd stolen up behind me. "I'm so sorry you missed your birthday trip to Disneyland. To make up for that I've made you a little birthday cake of your very own." She held in her hands a tiny cake with one candle in the middle of the chocolate. Was not just one year old! I struck that cake from her hands so it fell to the ground. She cried out, looking hurt enough to cry as she backed off. "That wasn't very grateful, or very kind," she said in a choked way. "Bart, why do you have to act so ugly? We all try to do our best."
I stuck out my tongue. She sighed and left me alone.
Later Emma came out again with that bratty girl in her arms. Wasn't my sister. Didn't want any sister. I hid behind a tree and peeked around. Emma put Cindy in the plastic swimming pool. She began to kick and splash the shallow water. Dumb, dumb, dumb . . . couldn't even swim. See how Emma laughed and enjoyed all her baby-doings when I could stand on my head. If I sat in that pool and splashed with my hands and feet she wouldn't think it was cute.
I waited for Emma to go away, but she pulled up a chair, sat down and began to shell peas. Plop, plop, plop went the green peas into the blue bowl. "That's it, dearie," Emma encouraged Cindy. "Splash the water, kick your pretty legs, flap your sweet arms and make your limbs strong so soon you'll be swimming."
I watched and waited, each pea she shelled telling me that soon Emma would have to get up and go into the kitchen. Cindy would be left alone. All alone. And she couldn't swim. Cats crouched down low like me when they wanted to catch a bird. Wish I had a tail to swish.
The last green pea fell. Emma rose to leave. I tensed my muscles. Just then Momma drove up in her bright red car and pulled to a stop by the garage. Emma waited to say hello. First it was Jory bounding over the lawn. "Hi, Emma!" he called. "What's for dinner?"
"You'll like my dinner no matter what," answered Emma, all grins for him, her handsome darling. Not like she treated me--the brat! "As for Bart," she went on, "I know he'll hate the peas, the vegetable casserole, the lamb chops and the dessert. Lord knows that boy is hard to please."
Momma stopped to talk to Emma like she wasn't a servant, then she ran to play with Cindy, kissing and hugging her as if she hadn't seen the dummy in ten years. "Mom," sang out Jory, "why don't we both put on swim suits and join Cindy in her pool?"
"I'll race you to the house, Jory!" agreed Momma, and off they ran like little kids.
"Now you be a good little girl and keep on playing with your rubber ducky and boat," said Emma to Cindy. "Emma will be right back."
My head lifted before I began to wiggle on my belly on the ground. The brat in the pool stood up and took off her bathing suit. Stark naked and bold she hurled her wet suit at me, then teased and laughed and tormented me with her bare flesh. Then, as if bored with my reaction, she sat again in the shallow water and stared down at herself with a secret little smile. Wicked! Shameless! Imagine her showing her private parts to me.
Mothers should treat their daughters how to act decent, proper, modest. My mother was just like Corrine, whom John Amos had said was weak and never punished her children enough. "Yes, Bart, your grandmother ruined her children, and now they live in sin and flaunt God and his moral rules!"
I guess it was up to me to teach Cindy a lesson about modesty and shame. Forward I wiggled. Now I had her attention. Her blue eyes opened wide. Her rosy full lips parted. At first she seemed happy that finally I was gonna play kiddy games with her. Then, something wise put fright in her eyes. She froze and made me think of a timid rabbit scared by a vicious snake. Snake. Much better to be a snake than a cat Snake in The Garden of Eden doing unto Eve what should have been done in the beginning. Lo, said the Lord when he spied Eve in her nakedness, go forth from Eden and let the world hurl their stones.
Hissing and flicking my tongue in and out, I edged closer. Was the Lord who spoke and I who obeyed. Wicked mother who refused to punish had made me what I was, an evil snake willing to do the Lord's bidding, even if it wasn't my own way.
I tried to flatten my head with willpower and make it small, flat and reptilelike. Tears came to Cindy's huge, scared eyes, and she began to bawl as she tried to wiggle over the rounded rim of the wading pool. The water wasn't deep enough for a little girl to drown in, or else Emma wouldn't have left her alone.
But . . . if a boa constrictor from Brazil was on the loose--what chance did a two-year-old have?
I wiggled over the side and squirmed in the water. She screamed, "Barr-tie! Go'way, Barr-tie!"
"Hsss . . . ssss," I went. My S's longer than John Amos's. I coiled my body around her small naked one and hooked my legs under her neck, dragging her down into the water. Couldn't really drown, but the Lord above had to warn those who sinned. I'd seen jungle snakes unhinge their jaws on TV. I tried to unhinge mine. Then I could swallow Cindy whole.
All of a sudden another snake had me! I yelped and released my grip on Cindy to keep from drowning . . . or being eaten alive! Lord, why hast thou forsaken me?
"What the Devil do you think you're doing?" yelled Jory, red with rage as he shook me until my head rolled. "I watched you wiggle your way along to see what you had in mind. Bart--did you try to drown Cindy?"
"No!" I gasped. "Just punishing her a little, not much."
"Yeah," he sneered, "like you punished Clover a little."
"Never did nothing to Clover. I take good care of Apple. I am not a bad boy . . . I'm not, not, not."
"Why are you crying if you are so innocent? You killed him! I see it in your eyes!"
I glared hard at Jory, fury washing over me. "You hate me! I know you do!" I lunged forward and tried to hit him Couldn't. I lowered my head, backed up and ran forward to butt him squarely in the stomach. Down he went, all doubled over, crying out from the pain. Before he could kill me, I kicked him but didn't know it would end up where it did. My aim was never good. Gee . . . that must hurt a lot.
"Unfair to kick in the groin," he groaned, his face so pale he seemed on the edge of a faint. "That's dirty fighting, Bart. Gross, too."