By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
Dance! Dance! My cousin yelled at me to dance. I was bound and determined not to!
"I'm not going to dance... you can't make me!" He grinned, said..."Oh, you are going to dance"! We stood there in the back yard of Grandma Alma, George's home. I looked at him with anger; he glared back at me with that evil grin. He was mad at me.
I knew I wasn't going to dance. Further more... I couldn't figure out how he could make me!
He stood there... there was no way he, by himself... was going to make me do anything. We were always feuding. Once, I beat him up when he came up to me... reached out, jerked down on my earring. Oh my God... the pain!! He ripped my ear lobe...
I had just gotten my ears pierced. What he didn't know was... neither did anyone else... when pain was inflicted on me... 'all hell was going to break wide open'. I whipped his a__ before he knew it! I didn't remember doing it.
We were kids full of 'spit and fire'... it didn't take much to make us fight. Our role models were there right in front of us... teaching us everyday.
This was payback, I was sure. "Dance, I said"! He yelled at me, saying if I didn't, he had a way of making me dance. He was holding his BB gun; he began raising it! I felt a thrill go through me... he was going to shoot my a___! I began running.
I was trying to run fast enough to get into the back door at Grandma Alma's when I felt the first pain on the back of my thigh! It hurt like a.... "Ouch! That hurt"!
Tears filled my eyes... I turned around briefly ... he had it raised to shoot again! "Dance"! The h___ with him, I'm running into the house! Damn! That hurt! The b_____ shot me again in the back of my legs!
Damn! I felt pain from shot after shot... I began dancing in pain! I was screaming, crying. I was going to kill him! I made it to Grandma Alma's screen door, got myself inside. He was laughing at me, saying ..."See, I told you I'd make you dance:!!!
That was one time I wanted to beat him up... but, the pain of the BB's hitting me in the back of my legs, prevented me from getting him.
Later, I had big, round welts on the back of my legs. I suffered... each one had a hole in it. When I sat down, the pain was excruciating. That's how we kids played down at Grandma Alma, and George's. Someone was always getting injured... we were all 'mean kids'... we had to be, to survive. It's a wonder he didn't hit me in the eye, or worse.
Pain... always pain from something, when living there. Pain made me feel anger. I was always angry when I went to live there. I was in Hell; I didn't have a choice. Someone was always striking out at me in anger... I'd fight back. I learned how to fight to survive... 'I fought like hell to survive'...
I remember when you lived at your Grandma Alma and George's. I remember someone had a BB gun too. Seems like That is what happened to George's eye. I was told (as a child) that someone shot him in the eye with a BB gun. I thought how terrible that was and someone should have gotten their ba-hunkas kicked for doing that! Well, now I know why you were always a good dancer! Love, Ms. Nancy
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