Jerry and Donny Kept Me in Trouble

Just what I needed -- cousins who kept me in trouble with my parents.


These two were responsible, in part, for my turning out the way I did! Just joking.  However, from age 5 to 10, they were my mentors.  Specifically, my older cousins who knew a whole lot more than I did.  Jerry was two years older; Donny was one year older than me.  As far as getting me in trouble -- most of the time they didn't.  My memories are, naturally, of the times they did.


We spent the holidays together including Christmas and Thanksgiving, but it was the 4th of Julys I remember most because they taught me how to shoot projectiles out of a coke bottle.  We were always careful (ha) and set the bottle in a bucket full of sand so if it exploded, we wouldn't have glass embedded in our body parts. 


 Of course, we weren't careful, but by the Grace of God (who I knew very little of at this age) we never were killed or mutilated, although, there were times when our exploits with fireworks resulted in pain-- bad pain.  Enough pain to take a trip to the ER because the firecracker went off too close to my hand from which I was throwing it just a tad too late for it to explode away from me.  I remember the many times I had ringing in my ears so much during the 4ths that I thought it was part of our heritage of independence from the RedCoats.


Other than 4th of July, we three cousins spent a lot of time together during the summer months.  my memory is not that good, but I remember the time when they shared their chocolate Hersheys bar with me.  They gave me the whole thing!  It was one of the rare moments that I felt secure in the fact that my older cousins were sharing which wasn't one of their dominant characteristics.  Turns out they got in "deep doo-doo" so to speak when the chocolate bar turned out to be ex-lax and my parents were brought into the picture when I went to them with terrible cramps and numerous trips to the toilet.  "Mom, I'm not feeling good." "What's wrong?"  My stomach hurts and I am going to the bathroom over and over again until I am..."   Well, you know the rest.


Needless to say, after their parents and my parents asked Jerry and Donny if they might know why I got the runs and cramps so suddenly this summer afternoon.  After my darling cousins had dismissed any blame for it, but on further cross examinations, admitted they had "found" a chocolate bar somewhere that was wrapped in a Hersheys package and gave it to me instead of just hoarding it themselves.  After the threats of physical spankings did they admit, with much crying and pleading, that they had the idea -- diabolical for sure -- to "see what would happen."  That is the most remembered memory of my times with Jerry and Donny.  They probably don't even recall the event.


Another time, when the whole family came to Salina for vacation, I was 14 which made them 15 and 16.  They were big city hoods and knew the ways of El Paso.  I wished they would have left their ways back in Texas.  My "car" at the time was a hand-me-down from my dad.  It had been the family car for about 5 years.  It was a huge Chrysler with a "slush-a'matic" transmission -- the forerunner of a normal automatic.  This was around 1954 when the Chrysler was introduced as the ultimate in family cars.  Actually, it was the hugest model, larger than a phone booth inside and could hold at least 25 kids in it while I drove.  Who cares that I had to look through, over and partially-blocking legs, torsos, arms and various other sundry body parts.  It was MY car.


Anyway, back to Jerry and Donny Massey's visit-- I got permission to take the car out in the evening, but Jerry would have to drive because I was still on my "farm license" which restricted my driving from picking up farm supplies from town and bringing back home "in the direct route as possible."  I, ashamed as I admit, I abused that privilege many times which was the reason I carried a sack of chicken feed in the trunk at all times! 


Oh boy, watch out -- I am getting diverted.  We took the car and ended up somewhere on top of a hill that had raggedy rocks around.  Lo and behold, in one of our careless moments, the car slipped out of gear and ended up impelled on the side of rock which we couldn't get it off of.   We tried for several hours.  This was our whole evening of fun -- trying to free the car from the rock and fervently trying to come up with a good story to provide our parents so "it was not our fault, but..."  After all, it was just a little dent in the front right fender.  Nothing to get excited about, right?  Truly, I forget our story (it was so lame that I forgot it as soon as we told it to our parents),  but the outcome was we couldn't use the car anymore, so we had to walk everywhere we went.


Another time, Jerry had a bowling ball which he said he found in El Paso and brought it from there, that he wanted to hock so we could have some money.  I was fascinated.  I had never even heard of such a concept, but they assured me they did it all the time in Texas.  Sure enough, out on the fringe of Salina on North Broadway, they found a Pawn Shop.  Well, I bet your waiting to the bad part of the story.  In this case, there wasn't one.  He got the money and we blew it on food and a movie.


The other thing they "taught" me was how to get a bottle of soda (Coca Cola was all there was back then in the machines) using a Mexican centavo in place of the dime.  It worked!  Wow! A bottle of pop for the price of... gosh, I don't know the exchange rate back then, but it was like 23 centavos equaled one penny.  What a splendid deal.  They left me a bunch of centavos when they left and I kept getting Cokes that way until I ran out about a week later.


There are other exploits involving my cousins Donny and Jerry, but I would have to rack my brain to come up with the details and my mind is over-taxed already, so that's it for now.  Maybe in a later Post or in my finished novel-- which ever comes first or never.