Memories of My Childhood Read online

  Memories of

  My Childhood

  By Kathryn Meyer Griffith

  (Four short stories of my poor but loving family of seven siblings in the 1950’s and 60’s. Originally the first three of these were the very first stories I ever had published in my local Belleville News-Democrat newspaper between 1977 and 1979, after winning their short story contest, along with the original illustrations I drew for them back then…the last story, Christmas Magic, was written in 2016 but its illustration is also from 1977.)

  For my beloved brother Jim Meyer…who was the best musician and songwriter I’ve ever known, and always my best friend. My life wouldn’t have been half as rich without you having been in it. I love you, brother! Here’s his music: http://tinyurl.com/pytftzc

  Other books by Kathryn Meyer Griffith:

  Evil Stalks the Night

  The Heart of the Rose

  Blood Forged

  Vampire Blood

  The Last Vampire (2012 Epics EBook Awards Finalist)

  Witches

  The Calling

  Scraps of Paper

  All Things Slip Away

  Ghosts Beneath Us

  Egyptian Heart

  Winter’s Journey

  The Ice Bridge

  Don’t Look Back, Agnes

  A Time of Demons and Angels

  The Woman in Crimson

  Four Spooky Short Stories

  Human No Longer

  Dinosaur Lake (2014 Epic EBook Awards Finalist)

  Dinosaur Lake II: Dinosaurs Arising

  Dinosaur Lake III: Infestation

  Dinosaur Lake IV: Dinosaur Wars

  *All Kathryn Meyer Griffith’s books are also available now in paperbacks and audio books.

  Night Sledding

  Originally written and published in 1979.

  Sarah stood firm against the cold bitter wind and pulled the woolen cap over her ears. Her long brown hair whipped across her face. She laughed softly at her son as he fell at her feet in the snow.

  “Take it easy, sport! Save some of that energy for school tomorrow,” she said, smiling, but her green eyes were unhappy. She’d been sad since her husband of eight years had left her for someone else. Sadder still, he’d left both her and Jeremy. He was never around anymore because the new wife, jealous of them, wouldn’t allow it. Sarah hated her ex-husband for hurting their son more than for hurting her.

  “Ah Mom.” He grinned as he grabbed at her coat trying to pull her into his play.

  “Jeremy, no!” She laughed as he dragged her into the snow. Then he jumped up and ran out of her reach.

  “You can’t catch me! Can’t catch me!” he taunted as he ran across the snow-covered field. “Come on Mom, catch me!”

  She stood up slowly. Her son looked so small against all the white.

  Sarah sighed. It was so cold and it had snowed for days now. She didn’t think it would ever stop. There were mountains of the stuff. She hadn’t seen so much snow since she was a child.

  That one strange winter….

  “Jeremy, come on, I’m too old for this,” she complained. Yet patience and love was in her voice, not anger.

  “Ah, mother,” he pleaded and stomped his feet impatiently in the snow. “You’re not that old. Tommy’s mom is twice as old as you and she goes ice skating with him all the time. She plays soccer, too.”

  “Oh, a Wonder Woman, huh?”

  “No. She’s just his pal,” he said in almost a whisper.

  “She’s just crazy if you ask me,” Sarah teased.

  “Ah, Mom.”

  “Ah, Son.” She stood with her mittened hands on her hips, her feet planted apart, as stubborn as her seven year old.

  She reached out and patted him gently on his cheek. They were friends. Maybe she sometimes treated him a little too much like an adult. Sometimes she forgot he was only a child.

  They laughed then and made faces at each other. Two children.

  “Look what I found, Mom.” Jeremy’s voice ended her daydreaming. He cradled a sled in his arms. The sled they had bought him last Christmas. Last Christmas when her world had still been happy and the three of them still together. Don’t think about that now.

  “I almost forgot I had it. I bet it beats anything on the street.” His bright blue eyes gleamed at her as he wiped his nose with his coat sleeve.

  “I bet. Where did you find it?” Sarah ran her hands along the sleek sides that were so shiny. The new sled seemed flimsy and small to her and not like the giant sled she remembered sharing so long ago with her six brothers and sisters.

  “It was out in the shed. Just now. I knew it was out there somewhere.” His tilted face was bathed in a soft reddish glow from the setting sun. The whole world, the snow and the trees, was tinted pink. It was beautiful, but it meant it would soon be dark.

  And suddenly, the look, feel and smell of the coming evening somehow reminded her of other cold winter nights when she’d been a child. When her family, all nine of them, seven siblings, mother and father, had lived in that big old rambling drafty house on Concord in St. Louis. The house on the hill surrounded by endless fields; with her maternal grandparents, a curmudgeon grandfather and a loving grandmother, living nearby. The memory made her smile.

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t ever go in that old shed because of the spiders and bugs?”

  He cocked his head. He was deathly afraid of those things, but he wouldn’t admit it. Like he was afraid of the dark in his room at night. He said it was too creepy, too quiet.

  “Nah, spiders don’t like winter, Mom. It’s too cold. They freeze.

  “Mom, let’s try out the sled now, please? It won’t take long. There’s a great hill right down the road. It’s slick as ice. I promise I won’t take long, and I’m not even cold yet.”

  “It’s late.” She peered into the fading sunlight. “And it’s almost dark and it’s getting colder.”

  “Please? Just a few minutes?” He had taken her hand and was gently leading her down the snowy streets. Sarah gulped in deep whiffs of the sharp winter night air. The smell of pine and frozen things. A smell full of the past.

  She was tired, but yet at the same time, easily persuaded. The night had her in its spell.

  And she began to remember.

  She’d remembered a night like this one so long ago when she’d been a child like Jeremy.

  Winter. Night snow sparkling on the roads and fields. Black nights and…sledding.

  The sled bobbed in front of her. Jeremy’s laughter echoed like a bridge spanning back across the years, stirring thoughts of other children sliding and tumbling down icy hills and then dragging wooden sleds back up again. Their feet and hands had been numb, their breath had been frozen into white smoke. Another winter so many years ago.

  “Come on, Mom, ride with me?”

  “No, you go ahead. I’ll wait here.” They stood at the top of a large hill.

  “You’re not afraid, are ya?”

  “No.”

  “Please come with me?”

  She shook her head one last time and he turned away from her firm refusal, undaunted.

  “Well, then I’ll go by myself cause I’m not afraid.” Jeremy jumped on the sled and, screaming in mock fear, took the hill alone, leaving her to stand there–listening, hearing the voices of the distant past.

  *****

  “Sis, Sis! We’re going down the big hill tonight. Cooper’s Hill. Want to come?” Jimmy yelled at her from across their old yard. A young Jimmy she still remembered so well with his bright red hair and serious face. He was two years younger but always seemed older than that to her. He was her favorite brother and a real fighter. He would lead and she would follow in his
mischief.

  “Good lord, tonight?”

  “Yep. Much later tonight when everyone’s in bed. The folks won’t miss us so much then.”

  “In the dark? Are you crazy?” She couldn’t believe it. She peeked out at him from under her thick plaid scarf. A skinny freckled face ten-year old girl in an old hand-me-down tattered coat.

  “No one goes down Cooper’s Hill when it’s as cold and icy as it is now, and especially at night. What if a car comes down it?”

  “Then I’d be flat as a pancake, I suppose.” He chuckled.

  “Jimmy!”

  It wasn’t just the danger of the hill itself or the treacherous creek at the bottom, she was afraid of the stories about the ghost. She was afraid of the night, what it hid, and the unknown.

  The hill was the stretch of road in front of Cooper’s place. It was a long steep icy road. For her and Jimmy, all the neighborhood kids really, it was forbidden. But even so the neighborhood children secretly rode down it with their sleds whenever they could. Usually very late at night when no one was around and the traffic was gone. It was a wild ride if a car didn’t get you on the way down or if you didn’t fly over the edge of the ditch and into the deep watery creek at the bottom.

  “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself. Josh, Sam and I are going to run it tonight. If I can sneak out, that is. School won’t be out forever on Christmas break and I can sleep late tomorrow. And the snow might be gone soon so it’s got to be tonight.”

  Jimmy stood there proudly, his sled next to him. He loved that sled, even if he was only one-seventh owner of it. He called it Lightning.

  “You’re daffy.” She grabbed his coat. “Don’t you remember what they say about that hill and what happened there last year?”

  Jimmy frowned, shaking his head. “Ah Sarah, they are just old rumors. No one believes that stuff. It was just some nonsense some parents started to scare the kids off the hill at night. It’s like the Boogie Man, you know?” He shrugged. “But I don’t scare so easy.”

  “Well you should be scared. A boy got killed on that hill,” her voice was cold, her eyes had narrowed. What could she do to change his mind? Jimmy never listened, though. He did what he wanted to do.

  “Killed? Do you actually believe that?” He laughed. “Humph, I thought you were supposed to be so smart?”

  “The stories are true. I heard Mrs. Westerling and Mrs. Shannon talking about it last year in Sam’s store. Some kid named Billie something-or-other who rode his sled down that same old road one night and rammed the metal runners right up,” she stopped, afraid at even the thought, “his throat. It was the ice, it made his go too fast and he wasn’t able to stop. And you know how that hill is when it’s this freezing? It’s solid ice from top to bottom and dangerous as all get out.”

  She swallowed, shivering. “And he went over the edge into the creek because he couldn’t stop. He smashed his sled onto the rocks. They said he would have frozen to death anyway from the water after he broke through the ice even if the runners wouldn’t have….”

  “Sarah!”

  But she wouldn’t stop. The words gushed out anyway. “…killed him dead first. Quicker than that!” She snapped her fingers in his disbelieving face, except her mittens dulled the click.

  In her mind she could see red blood seeping into night-white snow, staining and freezing, growing and tinting the creek crimson. A mangled sled and a small child moaning in the street at night and no one there to help him. She could see it. That mustn’t happen to Jimmy.

  “He went alone. That was stupid and his big mistake.”

  “No, going there at all and trying to sled down that awful hill is stupid. Don’t you believe me about the kid who died?”

  “Nope.” His blue eyes bored into hers and he grinned. “And I suppose you think his poor ghost haunts the hill, too…rattling chains and scaring little children? Is he headless, too, Sarah?”

  He giggled, so sure of himself because he didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or touch.

  “Sis, you’re such a silly thing. You’re always conjuring up fantastic stories and all. Like that flying horse friend of yours last year. Darn it, Sarah, I never know when you’re telling the truth anymore.”

  No, he didn’t believe in the ghost. He thought it was just another one of her stories and all in her imagination.

  “No, this is different, Jimmy, and I didn’t mention anything about ghosts.” She was a little ashamed because, true, the horse had been something out of her imagination but the dead boy on the sled was real.

  “If I know you, Sis, you would have gotten to the ghost sooner or later.”

  “I’m just worried about you. The boy did die, you know.”

  “I still don’t believe it. You must have gotten your stories mixed up. I’m going.” He was determined. Sniffling and wiping his runny nose he looked past her towards the house. A pale pink glow had begun to settle over everything as the sun moved lower in the sky. It made Jimmy’s head fiery red. The wind was bitter and the day felt unreal. It was the strange light that did it.

  “Well, don’t say that I didn’t try to warn you. But Jimmy it’s all true. Really! If you go….” She gripped his arm tighter. He waited, staring at her with a defiant stance. He was so stubbornly proud nothing could scare him. And she didn’t know how to put the fear she felt into words he’d understand and heed.

  So she gave up. “Jimmy, just be careful, you hear? I don’t really know about that ghost stuff but I do know that road is steep and icy and if you accidently do run into the creek you could get hurt or worse. I’ve got other brothers and sisters but I am kind of partial to you.” She tried to smile but it came out half-hearted. She still knew what he was doing was nuts.

  “Yeah, because I’m the only one who’s crazy enough to listen to you and your dumb stories,” he whispered, smiling just a little. “I’ll remember to avoid the rocks, though.”

  “Funny.” She sighed. Jimmy was then pointing past her and she followed his gaze.

  *****

  “Look who,” Jimmy said.

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder to look at their little brother Charlie. “Ain’t he supposed to be home sick in bed?” Sarah frowned as the small form bumbled its way towards them in the snow. He was like a tiny pesky shadow that trailed behind snooping and spying on them.

  “I thought he’d be snuggled under at least a dozen blankets playing it for all it was worth. He’s missed three days of school already.”

  “He’s a pest all right,” Jimmy admitted, pounding his feet in the snow to keep them from going numb.

  “Charlie, what are you doing out of bed?” Her gaze trying to appear stern, which didn’t work.

  “Good Lord, what are you doing out here, stupid?” Jimmy piped up.

  Charlie stumbled up to them. He was half-dressed, no cap and his coat not even buttoned up. His eyes were feverish as he clutched Teddy-One-Eye, his favorite beaten up old teddy bear. The old stuffed bear had only one button eye and hung limply in his arms while stuffing fell out of the nasty thing and left a trail of wispy cotton everywhere Charlie went. Sarah detested that fat little bear. It was such a mess it was ugly. And Charlie, who had enough social problems to begin with, would talk to the thing for hours but barely grunted to any of them. It drove their mother up a wall. He liked the bear better than real people.

  “I’m not sick,” he whined. “I want to make a snowman like you and Jimmy.” His small mouth in the usual tight line; his eyes looking lost and angry.

  “Ah, you’re always sick, Charlie,” Jimmy said. “Get back inside the house, would ya? Before you die of pneumonia, you numbskull!”

  “And take that dumb old bear with you,” Sarah added.

  “I hope I do die. That’ll get me some attention around here at least.” His face fell into a pout and his lips crinkled.

  “You’re hopeless,” Sarah exclaimed, exasperated, pushing him away in mock disgust. She only meant to aim him in the direction of the hou
se, but she shoved a little too hard. He lost his balance and fell backwards into a snowdrift.

  “Stop your crying, baby!” Jimmy laughed.

  She pulled Charlie up, flashing Jimmy an irritated glare.

  “And you, shut up,” she told Jimmy.

  “But he’s so clumsy, though, I can’t help it.”

  Furious, Charlie got up and tore immediately into his older brother. “I’ll get you! Always laughing at me!” he cried.

  Sarah had to drag him away. “Shhh.” Her fingers flew up to her mouth and she nodded meaningfully at Jimmy. Charlie had begun to cry harsh sobs which showed just how sick he still was.

  Poor Charlie. She did feel sorry for him, he was such an unlucky child in so many ways, and she often found herself standing up for him no matter how annoying he was. She hugged him and brushed him off.

  “I have to get you back to the house and inside. You’re sick and mom will skin us alive if she finds out we let you stay out here too long.”

  “You mean if I die,” Charlie said smugly, always so dramatic. He wiped his swollen eyes with his fists leaving dirty smudges on his face.

  “We couldn’t get that lucky, but you might wished you had died if you talk all crazy like that around mom.”

  Jimmy, whistling, meandered off to the shed to put the sled away. “Dad is supposed to make some of his famous snow ice cream, Sarah. So we better get in there and get some of it before it’s all gone,” he called out as he walked away.

  She watched him disappear and then, picking up Charlie, carried him into the house.

  She wished she could talk Jimmy out of sledding Cooper’s Hill that night. She kept thinking of Billie-what’s-his-name and the icy creek. She had to find a way to talk Jimmy out of it somehow.

  *****

  Hours later, as the rest of the house slept, Sarah got up and dressed in her warmest clothes. She crouched by the door in the dark, waiting. The house was filled with strange noises. It whistled, creaked and seemed to talk to her. She felt a chill as if even the house knew of Jimmy’s suicide mission and was in sympathy with her fears. She waited for Jimmy because she couldn’t let him go alone.