1.15.2009
We were on a family road trip from Va Beach, VA to San Clemente, CA to visit family along the way. On a side note, Go On Road Trips. Period. From my childhood, it stands out as the single most amazing thing we did. It's what I picture the all-American family being. It's my fondest memories of spending time together with my siblings and parents- and I miss it.
So, we're on the road trip half way across the America and my dad being the trusting man that he is bought my brother and I sling shots. SWEET! I was probably about 10 years old, my brother 8, and it was awesome. We were shooting everything. I mean everything. If the car was stopped, we were shooting. I can't believe he ever bought us those things at that age. But, it was so cool.
On one stop in AZ, I can remember it like it was yesterday. Mid-summer, feeling close to what Hell might be like, nothing around but a gas station. The whole family rolls in the convenience store to get drinks as I catch something out of the corner of my eye... a little tiny bird. "It's hot as death outside with nothing around! What are you doing here little bird?!" Thinking back now, that would have been my first thought, but as a young man- I went straight for the sling shot.
I grabbed a little rock, pulled back (if you are a PETA member or love animals, stop reading and go eat a salad or something), and let the rock fly. Everything went into slow motion as the rock hit the bird and knocked it head over little claws, talons or whatever. And then... it didn't move. In grabbing the sling shot I didn't imagine or even fathom that the thing would die. I just thought it would stun it. The little bird kind of fluttered for a moment, then laid still.
My heart raced. I had never experienced death of any kind. No one got shot on TV in those days. We didn't see 890 deaths in the news and media shows before we were 12!? The closest I got to watching pain was Wiley Coyote and the Road Runner! I didn't know how to handle it. I started to panic. "What was I going to say to my dad? Maybe they won't notice. If I get back in the car they''ll think it died of heat stroke or something!?" (I'm sure I had no idea how to spell heat stroke back then, much less plan on blaming it for the death of a bird).
My family came out. My dad saw the bird, turned to me, asked the question- and I lied. "Did you do something to that bird?" "No sir," I replied while my legs shook out of sight in the back seat. He gave me the "I think your full of crap and know you lied to me, but I don't have time for your little kid B.S." look, and we drove off.
I spent the rest of AZ to CA and back to VB replaying that moment like the scene from JFK where they replay the shooting over and over and over, "Back- and to the left." It haunted me. All I had to do was tell the truth, but I didn't. And so started the lies that led to middle school and the acting out behavior to get attention.
But it didn't stop at middle school. High school was where it got ramped up to a whole new level...