Memoir Part 1-The Walkie Talkie

If you know me personally, you probably know that I am the youngest of 12 children.  We had a lot of adventures growing up and a few years back I started writing about some of these experiences.  I wanted to share one of my favorites here.  Enjoy!

1 The Walkie-Talkie

I was doin’ it.  There was nothing this side of the galaxy that could have stopped me.  Never before had this nine-year-old boy ever attempted something so daring, so stupid.  I didn’t have a choice.  Unless I wanted to be known for the rest of my life as a cowardly thumb-sucking chicken face, I didn’t have a choice. 

            “Come on, Tim!  Are you going or not?”  Orrin and Marc weren’t very patient.  This was a serious matter and shouldn’t have been taken lightly.  I could’ve been killed out there!  With the walkie-talkie carefully in hand, I jumped up like a spooked jackrabbit and darted across the street to the Somson’s house.  Just as planned, I carefully placed the walkie-talkie in the bush, rang the doorbell and I was gone. I quickly joined my brothers hiding behind the old fishing boat.

            “Did you do it?”

            “Yeah, I did it.”  My heart was pumping so fast, I thought it would explode.

            “Alright, here comes Mrs. Somson to the door.  Nobody move.”  Orrin didn’t bother telling me what was next.  But coming from him I knew it was going to be good. 

            All of a sudden I heard the most graphic catcalls ever uttered by a teenage boy.  He was throwing out a “Hey foxy momma!” here and a “Wooo, woo!” there.  I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or puke. 

            After a couple of minutes, we realized that we weren’t getting the expected response from the 76-year-old lady.  Instead of laughing, she hurried back inside and brought out her husband.  Even though he was old, we were sure he had a 12-gauge shotgun stowed away for little boys who dared call his wife a “Foxy Momma”.  We weren’t sticking around to find out.

            We quickly dashed inside to Mom’s sewing room.  After laying low for a few minutes, we eventually peeked out the window to see if we could see birdshot commin’ our way.  We couldn’t see anything and breathed a brief sigh of relief.  Our relief quickly faded as flashing red and blue lights filled the room like fireworks on the Fourth of July.  Life as we knew it was over.  Visions of steel bars and orange jumpsuits filled our minds. We were about to be busted.

            We laid low, in shock, for what seemed like hours.  Ten minutes later, the cops were gone.

            “What are we going to do?”  My bed was suddenly sounding like the best option.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with a plan to get us out of this.”  I didn’t doubt Orrin would come up with something. I just hoped it was smarter than the idea that got us into this mess.  We had to get that walkie-talkie back.  It wasn’t ours.  We borrowed it from a kid down the street and it would make our lives miserable if we’d lost his walkie-talkie.

            “Alright, how many ski masks do we have downstairs?”

            “Ski masks?  What in the world are we going to do with ski masks?”  I was sure Orrin had lost it.

            “Do you want Mrs. Somson to know who we are?  We put ski masks on and nicely ask for the walkie-talkie back.  It’s as simple as that.”  Simple wouldn’t have been my word of choice, but Orrin was pretty confident everything would be okay

            “Alright, Orrin, but I think we only have two masks downstairs.” 

Being the youngest, I had the privilege of making my own mask out of an orange scarf, wrapped around my head with small slits for my eyes.  Decked out in our pathetic snow-day attire, we were ready for action.  We walked out the back door and around the house, our steps getting slower and slower.  All too quickly, we found ourselves standing on the Somson’s front porch.  I held my breath as the doorbell rang out in my little ears.

            “Hi, Mrs. Somson.  We just wanted to tell you that it was us that put that walkie-talkie in your bush.  It was just a little practical joke that went too far.  We’re real sorry.  Can we have our walkie-talkie back?”  How could an old lady be angry at such an innocent confession?

            “First of all, take off those ridiculous masks.  You look like miniature criminals.”  We didn’t feel so brave as we took off our only defense. 

            “Alright, tell me what happened.”  Mrs. Somson’s glare made it clear we weren’t to leave out any details.  Orrin told it all and ended with another desperate plea for the walkie-talkie.

            “Well, I appreciate you boys being honest with me.” It almost sounded as if she’d hand it over and we’d be home free.  “But I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than you think.  You see, this afternoon I was a witness to a robbery down at Bob’s Grocery Store.  When I came out on my porch tonight all I could hear was the buzz of the walkie-talkie.  Because I’m still a little on edge about the whole situation, I immediately thought it was a plot to eliminate me as a witness.  So, we called the police.  They took your walkie-talkie down to the station to examine it.  If you want your walkie-talkie back, you’re going to have to go to the station and get it.”

            All of a sudden, the walkie-talkie didn’t mean so much to us anymore.  It was between dealing with the kid down the street and dealing with the cops.  We decided to take our chances with the kid.