Fright Night

I was a bad kid. And at times a mean kid. The fact that I did something wrong, failed to listen or blatantly defied doing what I was told to do always resulted in one; an ass whoopin and two; me being pissed that I had yet again managed to get myself in trouble.

One Friday night a month all the kids were allowed to stay up as late as we wanted to watch horror movies. It was the big thing, reason alone for me to actually try to remember to keep my behind out of trouble for a day.

On one of these Friday’s I decided to act out. It really was not my fault, it was the cat’s fault!!! The damn thing was harassing me. I would walk through the livingroom and it would attack my ankles, I would sit on the couch and it would jump on me. That little bastard simply would not leave me alone! An hour of scratches later and it is time for this festering feline to go away for a while and I decide to lock it the basement. I snatch it up, open the basement door and sling it down the steps slamming and locking the door behind it - the whole time forgetting my aunt was down there doing laundry!

She was the cat lover, not me. And these cats were not to be mistreated. Throwing one down a flight of steps was a very bad idea, especially on a Fright Night!

Shit!

This was going to leave a mark! But after all, my aunt was locked in the basement too so if I had anything, it was time. Time to go eat some ice cream (I knew I would be getting none later). Time to hide some toys in my room (I was definitely going to have some alone time after my beating). And time to get some good old fashioned licks in on my little cousin.

My aunt had come up to the top of the steps and demanded I unlock the door - she was hardly in a position to DEMAND anything given the fact she was locked up and I had full access to the house. She banged away beneath me as I made my way up and down the steps going in and out of my room and savoring my fleeting time.

A flaw, my little punching bag of a cousin opened the door as I was coming back down the steps. I turned the corner only to find her standing in the living room looking for something to beat my ass with! I knew that’s what she was looking for and be damned if I was going to give her a chance to find it. The rational thing to do was make her act fast while her hands were empty. And that’s just what I did, I took my shoe off and threw it at my cousin to force her to beat me with her hands and not a belt.

She was like the Tasmanian Devil laying hot stings to any portion of my flailing body she could get her hands on! To that point in my life it was the worst beating my aunt had given me. "Have you lost your cotton pickin mind?" My behind was on FIRE! She had me by the arm and swatting me in circles until she tired out.

And then it was over. "You are going to make me kill you one day Terry." And she walked away. (Hmmm, she had never said THAT before. I think I just messed up).

The whole time my cousin Mark and his friends were in the back yard peering through the window watching me take this beating - and of course laughing. He came in with all smiles mocking my flailing and screaming act; which of course did not sit well.

I found myself pissed at my older and much larger cousin and wanted nothing more than to even the score; but in a safe way. He could kick my ass at the drop of a dime so I had to catch him off guard.

The movies start and we are all gathered around the television and my attention is more on him than it is the movie. Staring, contemplating when I hear... "Terry! Were you in this ice cream?!"

Damn it! I had forgotten about my little reign of household terror!

"Yes, Aunt Pauline! I only had a little bit though."

She made my scoop everyone’s ice cream and take it to them - I of course got none. Mark being the ass he was being that night demanded that I place his bowl on his lap. Me being the child I was; dumped it in his lap and instead of waiting for him to stomp a mud hole in my chest I jumped on him to get my licks in early. My aunt watched the entire thing and snatched me up (probably saving my life) and sent me to my room because I was so out of control that evening. On the way up the movie kept going through my head; one scene my cousin had jumped to when it came on. Perfect!

We lived in an old three story row home. To get to my room you had to walk through the bathroom on the second floor. To get to Mark’s room you had to walk through my room. (He was waaaay back there).
Sent to my room I immediately went to my bed and stuffed it with everything I could find to make it look as if I were sleeping in it and crawled under Mark’s bed. My reign of terror for the night had ended but my reign of horror had just begun.

Hours later Mark entered the my room and made a comment. "That’s right, you better be sleeping little punk!" (Yep, I’m sleeping alright! Let’s see who the punk is about to be here in a few minutes)!

And like clock work Mark falls asleep and as always his arm falls off the bed and hangs to the floor. Just as in the scene from the horror movie I grab his arm and start pulling him under the bed while I let out this crazed scream!

His reaction was sheer self pissing panic! LITERALLY! Pulling with all of my might I slowly begin to actually drag him under the bed. I decide to really make him panic and bite his arm and with the creepiest voice I could muster "mmmm Bloooood!!!"

You would have thought some one was being hacked to death in that back room!

Problem. This was actually going on for a little while and I never thought how to end it. I really could not eat his arm and once he figured out it was me I am stuck under the bed. He had locked the bathroom door and went back into his room (my uncle’s pet peeve)! The entire family was trying get through to the back room but could not. All they hear is Mark screaming bloody murder and my cries for blood. I am sure they were all as terrified as Mark was!

My uncle broke the door down and drug Mark out with such haste that I came flying out from under the bed with him.

Opps!

I saw my uncle man handle my oldest cousin once. He came home drunk and tried to pick a fight with a steel worker - my uncle. He picked my cousin up by the neck with one hand and pressed him against the wall. His feet were literally dangling. With the other hand he gave him a nice little love tap too the ribs. And for good measure, he threw him across the room. (That love tap broke three ribs); and I just got this monstrosity of a man out of bed in a panic at 4 in the morning!

"Hi Pops!" What else could I say? He looked more relieved that it was me under the bed than anything; to not ride that wave would be foolish. We all know that parents go from relieved to pissed in no time flat. Every now and then that can be offset by the right play.

"Hi Pops" was no such play. The huge hand was rapidly descending on me when my aunt saved me by rushing in the room. Once he heard her I think he realized what the out come was going to be had he actually picked me up.

"I am going to kill Terry one day!" And he just stormed out of the room.
(Hmmm, that was twice in one day. I think it is time to chill a bit; not a chance).

Mark was in a little urine soaked ball crying. Not only did I scare him, I almost sent him into shock. It took my aunt about ten minutes to calm him down and explain that "it was just Terry playing" before he actually looked around and realized he was alright. Of course there were bite marks on his arm but he was none the worse for wear.

It was then he realized the extent of the scare I had just put on him. Kids at that age show embarrassment through rage. It is their pride developing and anything taking a stab at their fragile pride has to be hostilely and hastily vanquished. Not me, not on this day. I had just terrified my bully of an older cousin into a urine soaked, weeping fetal ball. For the first time I maintained a strong advantage. To come after me from this point on meant you had to deal with me on my terms and I had proved that my terms were extreme and it would not end well.

As fast as he started to spring on me, he stopped. The thought of the consequences for the few licks just were not worth it. My aunt just shook her head and said, "Great." and took the traumatized Mark to get cleaned up.

Quickly I was moving up the food chain.

The more clever aggression I showed and the more I committed to the aggression, the more space I would have, the more I would be left alone and the more I could rule by consequence; not force. My older cousins began backing off because it became obvious that even though they were larger and stronger, I would stop at nothing to even the score; making it worse was the fact that there was no way to predict how or when I strike back.

I would be tested in my new found resolve but the consequences would be dire.

-T