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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Biography / Autobiography
- Published: 01/07/2013
FLASHLIGHTS AND THE BELT
M, from Baltimore, Maryland, United StatesFLASHLIGHTS AND THE BELT
In a darkened room
my brothers and I
used to hold and shine flashlights
under our chins
illuminate our faces
look in a mirror
and frighten ourselves.
I can't remember whether it was dad's work associate,
a vendor, an old war buddy, an ex high school chum, or perhaps an uncle
who gave us three boys army green flashlights on a school night.
After homework, a kiss from mom, and a hug from dad
we filed upstairs, got snug in our blankets, but were in no mood for sleep
with those flashlights to swing, circle, and shine.
We made up and adapted scenarios for our newest toys.
Lightships warning vessels along a storm tossed coast.
Then from down below the remote sound of dad's voice.
"Pipe down up there!"
Beacons crisscrossing an air raid warning sky searching for enemy bombers.
"Did you hear me? Knock it off!"
Next we pretended to be wearing them like headlamps in a coal mining shaft.
Dad's voice suddenly seemed louder, he had apparently set aside his newspaper
and stood at the foot of the stairs.
"If you boys don't settle down, I'm coming up there!"
But our imaginations were just kicking into gear
and we were having too much fun spotlighting our hands
shaping our fingers casting rabbit and crocodile silhouettes on the wall.
"DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE! JUST ONE MORE PEEP OUT OF YA! YOU HEAR ME?"
We imagined we were driving steam engines with headlights pulling freight trains.
Our father stomping up the steps sounded like King Kong.
Quickly we doused and ditched the lights under our beds
and ducked as deep as we could under our covers,
...an abrupt shaft of light...he enters the room...at first we're as silent as mice.
He slides the belt from the loops of his pants.
Realizing our fates each of us pleads and swears
"I'M ASLEEP! I'M ASLEEP!" To no avail.
Grasping the belt buckle, he lashed us with the leather end of the strap.
Even through the padding of my pajamas, sheet, blanket, and spread it hurt.
"NOW GO TO SLEEP!"
His footsteps faded...the hall light went dark
and he returned to reading his paper.
Back in our bedroom a few faint sniffles and whimpers
then golden silence dissolved into a symphony of falsettos snores.
by L DOUGLAS ST OURS
May 2010
FLASHLIGHTS AND THE BELT(L DOUGLAS ST OURS)
FLASHLIGHTS AND THE BELT
In a darkened room
my brothers and I
used to hold and shine flashlights
under our chins
illuminate our faces
look in a mirror
and frighten ourselves.
I can't remember whether it was dad's work associate,
a vendor, an old war buddy, an ex high school chum, or perhaps an uncle
who gave us three boys army green flashlights on a school night.
After homework, a kiss from mom, and a hug from dad
we filed upstairs, got snug in our blankets, but were in no mood for sleep
with those flashlights to swing, circle, and shine.
We made up and adapted scenarios for our newest toys.
Lightships warning vessels along a storm tossed coast.
Then from down below the remote sound of dad's voice.
"Pipe down up there!"
Beacons crisscrossing an air raid warning sky searching for enemy bombers.
"Did you hear me? Knock it off!"
Next we pretended to be wearing them like headlamps in a coal mining shaft.
Dad's voice suddenly seemed louder, he had apparently set aside his newspaper
and stood at the foot of the stairs.
"If you boys don't settle down, I'm coming up there!"
But our imaginations were just kicking into gear
and we were having too much fun spotlighting our hands
shaping our fingers casting rabbit and crocodile silhouettes on the wall.
"DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE! JUST ONE MORE PEEP OUT OF YA! YOU HEAR ME?"
We imagined we were driving steam engines with headlights pulling freight trains.
Our father stomping up the steps sounded like King Kong.
Quickly we doused and ditched the lights under our beds
and ducked as deep as we could under our covers,
...an abrupt shaft of light...he enters the room...at first we're as silent as mice.
He slides the belt from the loops of his pants.
Realizing our fates each of us pleads and swears
"I'M ASLEEP! I'M ASLEEP!" To no avail.
Grasping the belt buckle, he lashed us with the leather end of the strap.
Even through the padding of my pajamas, sheet, blanket, and spread it hurt.
"NOW GO TO SLEEP!"
His footsteps faded...the hall light went dark
and he returned to reading his paper.
Back in our bedroom a few faint sniffles and whimpers
then golden silence dissolved into a symphony of falsettos snores.
by L DOUGLAS ST OURS
May 2010
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