Friday, September 13, 2013

Who Needs Little Sisters


A Short Story

 

 

Somewhere in time, tomorrow, I have to take a test.  Since I have been studying, I decided to do something different with my blog.  I have written a short story about another of my sisters and I will share it with this week’s blog.  I hope you find it fun to read as I found it fun to write.

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“I’m going to have another baby.”  The announcement didn’t really catch me by surprise.  There were several children in my family, more than enough to go around, but this announcement was special to me.  My parents had divorced and my brothers and sisters were separated. Some lived with my father and some with my mother.  My mother had since remarried and this news was a product of that union. I lived with my mother in sunny California with two of my brothers.  I wanted a little sister to even the odds.  I needed someone to side with me when my older brother and I were gathering supporters for our way of thinking.  He could always count on our little brother, so I needed a little sister to take my side of things.        

When my little sister was born, I had reached the advanced age of eleven.  She was perfect.  She had red hair. Not strawberry blonde, but red and the prettiest blue eyes.  Her name was Heidi. It was love at first sight.  I was at the age when I was too old to play with dolls, but secretly still wanted to.  Changing her cloths five or six times a day never seemed to bother her.  When I smiled at her or sang to her, she would smile back at me.  I knew then, I needed a little sister to play with.

As she grew, she was still my baby doll.  I took home economics classes in Junior High and learned I loved to sew.  I would make Holly Hobby outfits for my little sister.  These always had a bonnet and a pinafore.  My mother would bring her to school in the outfits I made so I could receive a grade.  It was so much fun. Not only did I get a perfect score on every outfit, the other girls in the class enjoyed playing with my perfect little sister.  I knew then, I needed a little sister to show off.

One day, life changed.  My perfect little sister learned how to talk.  I believe that God has a sense of humor.  As a child, I was very quiet and very shy.  I preferred to stick my nose into a book.  My little sister was the exact opposite.  She enjoyed attention and enjoyed embarrassing me when she could.  One of her favorite things to do was to wait until we were in a very public place.  She would then look up to me with the most adoring look she could muster and call me mommy.  She seemed to have a knack for knowing when enough older women were around to look shocked at someone so young being a parent.  Embarrassed, I would try to remind her I wasn’t her mother.  That seemed to make the audience she was performing for more upset. She was unfazed by the audience or my discomfort.  If I blushed, she would grin ear to ear. I knew then, I needed my little sister to go shopping with our mother, instead of me.

One day, coming home from a church event, I invited some friends in.  I had made it High School by this point and was making a few new friends.  I escorted my friends, including a nice looking young man, out into the backyard to show them my rabbits, or so I thought.  Instead what we found was my little sister waiting for us.  She had taken a bra out of my underwear drawer.  She wore it on the outside her shirt and stuffed it with socks.  She was standing there proud as a peacock waiting for everyone to see.  I turned several shades of red and looked around, but couldn’t find a rock large enough to crawl under. I knew then, I needed my little sister go play with her own friends.

My mother called me at home one day, just as I was preparing to go somewhere with a friend of mine.  She wanted to know if we could go to the school and pick up Heidi. My mother was on her way home, but she would be later than expected.  My plans weren’t fixed, so my friend and I drove over to the school.  I walked into the office and told them I was there to pick up Heidi.  I could see Heidi over by the receptionist’s desk.  The office staff looked at her and said, “Heidi, your sister is here to pick you up.”  Heidi looked at them as straight faced as you please and denied knowing me.

I stood there dumbfounded.  How do I prove I’m her sister?  I have a driver’s license, but we have different last names.  I’m very short and blond and she is tall for her age with flaming red hair.  The office staff was equally stuck.  My mother had called, they knew Heidi’s sister was coming, but who was I?  I stood there for a moment, pleading with a six year old to tell the nice ladies who I was so we could go home, but she refused.  After a few minutes, the door opened and in walked my friend.  Heidi immediately called out his name and ran to him.  The ladies in the office laughed and I was able to take my challenging little sister home. I knew then, I needed my little sister to learn when teasing was no fun.

About a year later, I had come home from a date one night. My mother was patiently waiting up for me by dozing on the sofa.  It was probably about eleven o’clock.  I walked in quietly and went back to the bedroom I shared with my growing little sister.  I didn’t turn on the light, so I wouldn’t disturb her, but this night something was wrong.  I smelled something burning.  I immediately began looking around, wondering where the source of the smell was coming from. When I noticed a glow coming from my little sister’s bed, I screamed.  I grabbed the blanket off the bed.  She had taken the lamp off the night stand, removed the shade and put it under the blanket with her.  I believe she did this to read a book without being caught.  Unfortunately she has fallen asleep and now the blanket had melted to the lamp as the lamp was steadily burning through the mattress.

My scream brought my mother immediately.  I had the blanket in my hand and I reached to grab the lamp.  It was then I saw how precariously placed the lamp was between her two out stretched legs.  If Heidi had moved one inch to the right or left, she would have been severely burned. My mother pulled Heidi off the mattress.  My stepfather put the burning mess outside. My mother franticly searched Heidi’s body for any sign or burn marks.  Heidi looked around, totally confused by the panic around her.  We were all thankful I came home when I did. I knew then, I needed my little sister. When she scared me to death, I knew how precious she was.  

Many years have passed.  My little sister is now a grown woman with children of her own. The funny thing about my sister is we can fight, but I will still love her.  She can embarrass me, but I will still be secretly proud of her wit.  She can make me crazy at times, but I still don’t want to change her for the world.    I know now, I need my little sister.  She is one of my closest and best friends.

 

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