There were these cookies…”

Chapter Two…The Beginning…

I remember that day well…cue appropriate 1950’s music and allow the images in your brain to go all wavy…flashback…flashback…

…going back in time…going back in time…to the magical “Fifties”…when all things were wonderful and people ate bacon whenever they wanted…

“Look, Lottie,” said Durwood.  “This year you’re the only one that can do this…I really need you…”

And by “this” he meant stealing one of the little red Christmas cookie tins that…year after year…held the much loved and supremely tasty cookies that our wonderful mother, Gee (as in Gee Whiz) Johnson, baked every Christmas and therefore were appropriately called “Gee’s Nut Balls”.

It was at this point that dopey older brother Durwood…in order to further emphasize his need of my help this year…held up both his arms so I could plainly see his two wrists…solidly encased in heavy, white plaster casts from his elbows down to and including the greater part of his fingers.

Absolutely Necessary Explanatory Note:

When movie goers saw “Tarzan” grabbing a vine and swinging over a creek that raged furiously 50 feet below him as he yelled a mighty warrior cry to impress “Jane, his lady-friend”…while trying to save her from certain death…

…it should be noted the vine Tarzan grabbed was in all probability a strong rope…or perhaps even a wire cable and…incidentally there was no creek…nor was there dangerous, rampaging water…

…to further burst the cinematic bubble…he was probably about 6 feet off the floor…which I am sure was suitably padded…

HOWEVER…for dopey Durwood…on a forbidden trek to Minnehaha Falls with four of his very best buddies, the vine he grabbed to do some “swinging” was very real…AND…it snapped midway over a shallow creek that ran from the falls to the Mississippi River…

Durwood fell about 40 feet…the whole time screaming in terror on his way to “two, really, badly, broken wrists”….the pain of which he had to endure in solitude as he slogged home alone since…

All four of his “forever loyal to the end” best friends had bolted in total panic…fearful that they would somehow be blamed for Durwood’s fall.

“I didn’t see a thing!!  I don’t remember…” was the excuse they all settled on as they fled the scene…but not before…

…making sure that Durwood was not dead or in danger of dying any time soon.

They jumped on their bikes and hightailed it home…confident that they had done all that they could.

Later…every one of his friends agreed that they  were very sure they would have stayed if Durwood had been…you know…dead.

It was during his lonely walk home, that Durwood forlornly pondered which was worse…the pain he was currently now suffering as he shuffled along or the unholy reaction he knew would be coming from his usually calm and easy-going mother…

“First the fire…and now this…” he muttered to himself.  “She’s gonna kill me…”

He turned the corner on Longfellow Avenue and saw his mother raking leaves in the front yard…she appeared to be very happy since she was whistling.

It was only then that Durwood started to cry.

The intense pain apparently fogged his brain and prevented him from coming up with any believable or redeemable lie…so he was unfortunately left with telling his mother the simple yet profoundly stupid truth…”I saw it done on TV, ma…”