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Girls of Tender AgeExcerpt: Girls Of Tender Age

by:Grade     2020-04-05
This is how my father describes our socio-economic level:
We stayed in Area D, Charter Oak Terrace, Hartford, Connecticut.
Hartford is a city of various public buildings, bridges, restaurants, playgrounds, and the duzon winery is named after an oak tree, on which Captain Joseph Wadsworth hides the charter of independence granted by England in 1687.
Because England changed her mind, he hid it.
When James II came to power, he sent an agent to take it, but the charter was gone and the agent did not expect to check the squirrel\'s nest. Likely story.
The Royal Oak Terrace is the first
Income housing projects to be built in the United States.
It was built for GI people who came back from the war and gave them a leg when they left the battle of Bulge, Anzio, Bataan and Corregidor behind and looking for work
My father\'s brother. in-
The law, uncle Guido, is a World War II veteran, so he lives there and my father does not live there because his job is to make bearings for the war effort.
Because uncle Guido pulled it. At D-
106, we had a coal stove in our own small room, and there was a niche with soot between the front door and the kitchen.
Our furnace uses an original heating system consisting of aluminum pipes and narrow chimneys that drain smoke, gas and dirt through the roof, at the same time provide our kitchen with intermittent living room and two bedrooms.
There is a lot of dust on the vents on the walls.
The details of these heating sets us apart from those who are really poor, and they also work, but in the most humble of jobs --
Picking Tobacco in the fields bordering the northern end of the city, sweeping the factory floor, or doing dangerous work, such as running.
There is no niche in their coal stove.
They are in the kitchen.
People who are really poor
Put a piece of metal on the stove and pass through a hole cut out of the wall.
Plus Gerry
Install the hose from the main gun and bring the heat into other rooms.
The pipes melted and the house caught fire.
When their children came to school, they had lice on them, so they shaved their heads and tied them with rags.
First grade sitting next to me, the real poor girl with a rag on her head has a name that fascinates me, PooPoo.
She moved to a new school district when her house burned down.
Two days after she left, all the first
Grade gave birth to lice
We didn\'t shave our heads because we were working children, not really poor children.
We were fouled instead.
Smell the shampoo plus my mother combed my hair with a fine comb every night to remove the lice eggs. Got one!
She went away, then she slipped carefully from the teeth of the comb and snapped between the thumbnails.
Every morning, my father refuel the stove and shovels the coal into the belly of the stove as quietly as possible, so as not to wake my mother, a prototype of a light sleeper.
My mother was woken up by the smell of smoke outside.
You know, wake up. A prowler!
She was also woken up by her wife.
The radio in Alexandria, even in the cold winter, was already very late and we were all tightly sealed by our coal dust.
My mother could hear that there was a wild rat in the nearby open space, and Fluffy, the neighbor\'s cat, could also hear that it was following it.
Later, I realized that there was fog on the feet of the kitten.
My mother could hear the fog.
On top of that, she is also easily awakened by a voice without sound;
On a spring night, the freight train quickly crossed Hartford at 2 in the morning like a clock. M.
Will not make a dull explosion on Flatbush Avenue three miles from D-
106 at the northeast corner of the Charter Oak Terrace.
Because it\'s never been to Flatbush Avenue.
She woke my father up.
You know, wake up!
The train crashed.
My father called my uncle Norbert, my mother\'s youngest brother, a fireman.
The next morning, Uncle Norbert came.
Florence, what do you mean?
He said to my mother.
You can\'t hear the crash.
The damn train derailed in merrydon! (
Merrydon, 20Five miles away. )
I didn\'t hear the crash, she said.
What I heard was that the horn of the train did not explode.
It always does when it goes through a flat Bush).
My father said to my uncle Norbert, how about a short one?
It is reported that my mother has spiritual power in her position as a family of fourteen.
She\'s the seventh daughter.
When I asked my sixth daughter, aunt Coranna, what spiritual power was, Aunt Coranna said, it was when people were able to see and hear what the rest of us could not see.
My mother is a devout Catholic. she doesn\'t like this nonsense.
But the night the train derailed in merrydon, there was also fire, destruction, and death, because in merrydon, the train track extended along the middle of the main street.
As a psychic, is there anything strange about her waking up, no matter she denies it?
Ten years later, my uncle Eddie, my mother\'s brother, was born between her and Uncle Norbert and came home from Alphone\'s Bar and Grill and was hit by 2. M.
When he gets off the rails at the intersection of frattbush Avenue, he will take the train.
The engineer had never seen him and never stepped on the brakes, so my mother didn\'t hear the train on the brakes and it really woke her up.
At six every morning, I forced myself to open my eyes and climb out of the crib in the corner of my parents\' bedroom, where I experienced many terrible nightmares, it could have been due to the sound of sex a few feet away, and there is no doubt that I witnessed the ivory in the shadows in the dark.
When my father heard me whining, he went to the crib and said, Mick, you had a nightmare. (
Although I am a girl, my nickname is Mickey. )
Go back to sleep.
He brought me a glass of water. At 6 A. M.
, I climbed down the stairs, passed through the kitchen, sat on the small carpet at the front door, watching my father perform cold every day
Weather ceremony: he picked up a shovel against the wall of the niche and took out the coal from the three boxes
Stand in the metal trash can and enter the faded pink interior of the stove until its open black maw magically blooms into a crazy crimson glow.
Then, a small flame jumps from above the coal, marking the end of my father\'s household chores.
The red light is the most beautiful and ethereal image in my life.
Sitting there watching, I think if our lady shows up in front of me (
All the little Catholic children are very envious of the children of Fatima)
It will not be in the bush, it will be in our spell furnace.
When my father shoveled the coal, he gave me a piece of toast from the toaster on the kitchen floor.
There was no counter space in our kitchen to speak of, only a sink against the wall and a white metal table with a drawer next to it filled with Raleigh coupons.
One day, I leaned against the hot toast machine obtained through the Raleigh coupon, with the first three letters of the name WEAREVER printed on my calf.
I started reading when I was four years old.
This is not a word, I know.
The burning of the toaster was my first memory of the pain.
When I jumped out of the toaster, I plugged in and pressed my hand in my mouth.
Mom said to Dad, look what you did!
This is my family\'s long-term reaction to the crisis.
First, you can\'t cry.
That\'s because of Tyler.
Tyler is my brother, five years older than me.
Half of us.
Because my brother had autism when no one had ever heard of it. (
It\'s rampant today. )
Taylor can\'t stand the noise, including crying, in fact, just simply crying.
The pain he felt when he heard the noise was extreme;
When the pain came, he bit his wrist.
He held his left hand to the right, biting away like a chicken leg.
When he did, he screamed so badly.
His left wrist was covered with thick, often oozing, insensitive things.
People will do terrible things to satisfy their impulses, and in Taylor\'s case he will do these things to himself.
In America, no one is called Taylor except my brother.
Like autism, his name is also very popular today.
But then my mother was a little different.
The second response to the crisis followed closely;
My mother assigned responsibility, and even if it meant a grudge against the grave, she would not forgive the guilty party.
The third reaction was to have her light Raleigh and then ignite the second one when stamping the first one until the ashtray spills.
I didn\'t know until the first grade that when you were hurt, there were people who had the urge to hug and comfort you.
In the first grade, my finger was stuck by the girls\' toilet door. my teacher, Miss Wells, held me in her arms and hugged me to her big arms.
I don\'t understand what this is, a body that revolves around me, pressing compassion from one heart to the other.
But my mother is a prototype of a woman on the verge of mental collapse.
This is what I heard the aunts say to each other: Florence is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
They are familiar with this pursuit because it is already in their fifties when women are on the verge or actually have it.
My two aunts are also nervous.
When I was five years old, my mother\'s only unmarried sister, aunt Mary, had a nervous breakdown and then received an electric shock treatment, after which she came to live with us for three months.
She slept on a small bed in the living room.
My aunt Kekkie also has one.
She first went missing, and then my father\'s brother, uncle Johnny, found her behind the stove and she wouldn\'t come out.
He asked my father to help.
My father evaluated the situation and asked for a doctor.
The doctor asked my father and uncle Johnny to go out and eat all the ice they could get.
He then asked them to pour the ice into the tub and add cold water to the top, and then my aunt was thrown into the tub and flooded. (
Maybe there was no such thing as the injection of the dose. )
Once overpowered, Aunt Kekkie went to the hospital and came back in a month and everything was OK.
When I was young, when I was burned out by a toaster, I knew it wasn\'t my father\'s fault.
I know it\'s not anyone\'s fault.
It was the toaster\'s fault and the toaster was not made on purpose because it was an electrical appliance.
After my burn my father applied WEA to my lower leg with Vaseline and then he lit a Dutch master and blew a cigarette ring to make me smile and I was careful
His record was that the cigar sucked in six circles at a time.
Sometimes a friend gives him a special gift, a cigar from Havana.
He handed me all his exotic cigar bands to buy my treasure box, which was actually a humorous cigar distributed on the occasion of the 50 th anniversary of the Dutch masters company.
I think the picture on humidor
A group of happy men with sharp beards
Only the apostles of Jesus in the Pilgrim suit.
My father told me that the girls and boys in my award-winning Havana Band were Romeo and Juliet.
In Cuba, Mickey, that\'s Romeo, he said.
He told me his interpretation of Shakespeare\'s tragedy, except that he changed the ending, Romeo and Juliet married and lived happily ever after.
I imagine them dancing polka at the wedding.
I pretend my name is Juliet.
After all, I have an uncle named Romeo, one of my mother\'s brothers.
When I was an adult, I watched Dick Shapp interview Joe Namas on TV.
Dick asked Joe what movie he had seen recently.
Joe said, someone took me to see Romeo and Juliet.
I don\'t like this. Why? asks Dick.
Because it\'s so sad.
After a pause, Dick asked, you don\'t know what the ending will be, do you, Joe? No. Poor Joe. Poor me;
When I was in the high school script, I thought I knew how it would end, and this is the version of my father.
After a few days of burning the toaster, I sat in the closet and used a flashlight to aim at my legs and enjoyed the delicious lonely pleasure of peeling paper --
Thin scabs on my skin
I looked at the scabs in the palm of my hand.
They are me, but they are not me anymore. this is what I want to know.
I kept the scabs in my toilet.
In the next few days, there will be pink letters on my legsWEA.
Every morning, when my father finished baking on the stove, I stood at the door and waved goodbye. bye to him.
He drove to the factory in his black Ford Coupe, where he would fire many stoves at once.
He is a heat treatment worker in the hardening room.
The factory, Abbott ball, produces millions of ball bearings stamped with steel wire with a diameter of 1 inch, which are hot
Process in a furnace, then polish to a high brightness in a large bucket filled with chemicals, where they jump up and down like Mexican jump beans.
Abbott\'s ball company also produces poppy seeds of ball bearing size to fight 20-four-
The diameter of Karat silk wire.
My godmother Aunt Doris is an inspector at Abbott ball.
When she has to check the little gold ball bearings, she has to be protected and then check herself.
The inspector knew that Aunt Doris was not a thief, but again, he had to check very carefully under her nails and that the ball bearings might fall there without her knowledge.
Aunt Doris studied opera as a child.
At all of our family weddings, she sang \"Ave Maria \". \" (
At my wedding, I asked her to sing a song \"Kumbaya\" by Miriam Mark;
I came back from serving in the Peace Corps in the African countries and I think it is a suitable option.
But Aunt Doris sang \"Ave Maria \". \")
As a child, I am sure that my godmother is a real angel, her golden voice and the Golden Seeds that remain under her nails.
Aunt Doris is actually my cousin, but she is twenty years older than me, so I think she is my aunt.
No one has corrected this.
I don\'t know that she is the daughter of my mother\'s elder sister.
My mother\'s oldest sister, aunt Verna, died of breast cancer in her early 40 s, and her real name was Zephyrina.
My aunt Mary is the third sister and she tells me Verna is very painful and she will lay on the floor and let the family jump on her.
When the pain of cancer is not, the pain of jumping down is tolerable;
The former removed her attention from the latter.
I know why Tyler bit his wrist.
I stood at the door and waved goodbye
See my father again until I can\'t see his black Ford car any more.
One day, when I was three years old, I stood at the door and cried because I didn\'t wake up in time and watched him feed the stove or feed me my toast, or worst of all, wave well --bye.
He\'s gone and I have to face the day of the ceremony without his attention, which means the day without any attention.
It\'s winter today. my mother came downstairs with a sweater.
Come in and close the door, Mickey. I don\'t move.
Come in, Mary. Ann!
She called me Mary.
Ann is not Mickey when she is angry.
I still can\'t move.
I hope my father forgot something and will come back and I don\'t want to risk missing him.
But, it must have been a morning when my mother was particularly close to the edge of a nervous breakdown because she grabbed my hand and pulled me hard on the door and my upper arm broke.
This is the pain I don\'t remember.
What I remember was that my mom was standing in the doctor\'s office arguing with him that my arm was broken.
He keeps saying that you can\'t break the child\'s arm with her hand.
My mom said I told you I heard it.
It was his fault that his arm suddenly broke.
That said, Freddy Ravel was right behind him before my father arrived and he ran into the inspection room.
Freddy is a colored person my father hired to sweep the floor at Abbott ball.
The first person of color employed there.
My father said on many occasions that Freddy Lavin was the best person I ever met.
When my father became the foreman, he promoted Freddy to Stoke.
My father\'s real name is Morris. his family said his name was Morris, but everyone called him Yuqi.
However, Freddy Ravenel insisted on calling him Sir.
Because Freddy felt it was a proper respect, my father couldn\'t convince him.
Freddy is very grateful for the work he has done for my father.
When the news of my broken arm came to Abbott ball, Freddy insisted on driving my father to the doctor\'s office because he could see how frustrated my father was.
My mother\'s arms crossed over her chest.
She said to my father, you didn\'t wave your hand. bye to her.
This is her explanation of how my arm broke.
I won\'t wave-
Goodbye to my father for a while.
At least not my right arm.
The doctor stopped quarreling with my mother and had an X-ray.
Then he mixed a pot of Paris plaster. (
In those days, there was no visit to an orthopaedic specialist. )
He was distracted by my brother when he soaked the gauze and he was drawing a line B
There are 52 s on the wall.
The doctor turned to my mother.
Can\'t you do anything about it?
Mom said to Dad, what do you do.
Freddy Ravenel, like everyone else, knew that my mother was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so he went to my brother and said, Tyler, come over to Freddy.
The doctor said not to paint on his wall.
Taylor raised his head near Freddy Ravenel and did not look directly into his eyes because it was something autistic people could not do, he said with a smile, Blake.
He likes Freddy Ravenel, he turns his eyes, slaps his knees and laughs to his heart\'s content.
Freddie Ravenel said to me, miss, don\'t worry, it\'s okay.
His words had a similar effect to Miss Wells\'s embrace.
When I was an adult attending a dinner party, I was sitting next to an expert at Yale --
New Haven Hospital, child abuse specialist.
He was one of the doctors who decided Woody Allen\'s behavior towards his three children. year-
The old daughter is inappropriate, not sexual abuse.
I found myself telling him my mom broke my arm.
He said to me that it was an accident when a child was pulled and his wrist was broken.
But the humerus?
You were treated very rudely.
Today, this injury will be classified as a direct result of physical abuse.
The doctor must inform the police according to the law.
I said, my mom didn\'t really want to break my arm. He says, Oh?
She is on the verge of a mental breakdown.
He was quiet, then he said, and then there was no intention? That\'s right.
Mental breakdown is not a clinical term, he said.
In most cases, this is a paranoid psychiatric attack. Really?
Yes, but non-professional terms convey what non-professional people may observe in patients.
And he said, is this a wake-up?
Call your mom?
Hurt you like this? Yes.
She never hurt you again?
She never touched me.
Sometimes, he said. I\'m glad.
He paused before he said she had a nervous breakdown? No.
I am also happy about this.
Then he said, my mom has one. vous breakdown.
I said, did you find her behind the stove? No.
On the apple tree. I\'m sorry. Thank you.
I did not explain to the doctor the cause of my mother\'s impending mental breakdown.
Explain that Tyler will over-monopolize the man and he can\'t talk to the woman on his right.
When Taylor was eight and I was three, he carried an actor with his back in his hand, and because he was obsessed with war, he had more than 500 books on the subject of World War II;
His book covers fighting, defense, weapons.
My mother told a child psychiatrist at the Children\'s Hospital in Boston that he thought he was mentally retarded and if he was mentally retarded why would he read the arms and the covenant of Mr.
The doctor gave her a look.
But my mother will not wither.
She raised her chin and came out of the Office of the child psychiatrist.
That\'s how she fights people because, of course, there\'s nothing she can do.
My mother learned that, as a young woman, she did not work well at Aetna Life Insurance, where she succeeded in a difficult job --
Process data when done with a pencil.
But this is during the Great Depression, where female employees are usually fired immediately after they get married.
Married men need work to support their families;
How selfish a woman is to accept a job just because she is frivolous.
However, when my mother was about to get married, she was asked to keep the secret of marriage because the champion Aetna women\'s basketball team was unbeaten and they were asked to take part in an Olympic basketball team against women.
My mother is an excellent athlete and the youngest member of the national championship bowling team, she is the center of Aetna and will be translated today as a point guard.
My mother agreed to keep her marriage confidential and attend the big game.
The center of the Olympic team is Babe Dixon.
The Antai girl won. (
The girls in Connecticut have been playing basketball for a long time. )
Then my mother was fired.
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