I was sleeping sound in my bed, when I heard the slam of our heavy wooden front door. The slurred whispers of my sister and the neighbor girl, as they drunkenly stumbled through our front room. I got out of bed, threw on a t-shirt and went downstairs to see what was happening.
By the time I arrived, my mother and Stepfather were already up. Before I could be briefed on the situation, my mom looked at me and ordered me back upstairs. To her, none of this was any of my concern and I could go back to bed.
I took a good look at my sister and her friend before begrudgingly going back up the stairs. They both had cuts on their faces and arms. Bruises on the bodies. I listened as best I could to my mom scold my sister on how lucky she was that her injuries weren't worse. How she or her friend could've been killed. How she was lucky this happened so close to home and how the authorities would not be notified.
Then I heard the tractor start up. We lived on about 7 acres, right on the edge of town. My stepdad would often bring a tractor into town and hookup a huge lawnmower to it. Luckily for my sister, the tractor was at our house that day.
Here it was about 3 in the morning and my stepdad was taking the tractor down the road to pull our now totaled Chevy Celebrity out of the ditch. One of the many times in our lives he saved us from further consequence or humiliation.
I continued to listen to my mother scold my sister, even angrier that she now had to take the two girls over to the neighbors house and explain to her parents all that had transpired.
I went back to bed having a hell of a time trying to get back to sleep. This was the second time my sister had been in a drunk driving incident and I was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last either. The first one had happened out in the middle of nowhere where on a gravel road. There were no real consequences for that one either.
By the time I finally did fall asleep my mom was in my room waking me up.
"There's no need to go and tell your father about this," She said to me. "That'll just make things worse. Your sister is going through a lot right now, she doesn't need to deal with your Dad on top of it."
I wasn't 100% sure why my sister was doing the things she was doing. According to her, it was because unlike her weird younger brother, she actually cared about being well liked and popular among her classmates. Partying and getting hammered was how you fit in. A loser like me wouldn't know anything about it.
My mom's explanation for it contradicted what my sister said. My mom thought her rebellious nature was a combination of two things. For one, my sister's class was very clicky. When my sister was younger, up through JR High, she had always been among the female jocks. She did dance, softball, volleyball and track. Then a series of injuries, kept her from those activities when she got older. She first had to have a giant cyst cut out of her hand. This meant no hitting a volleyball and no catching a softball. She even had to give up playing the trumpet in the band. As a result, many of those friends stopped including her in activities. Their get togethers excluded my sister. Soon thereafter she began to hang with a more rebellious crowd. I'm not convinced that she wouldn't have still turned to drinking and partying. Plenty of jocks still did plenty of both.
As to the other reason? Mom thought it was also a result on how hard and critical my Dad was of my sister. At that time in our lives, I was doing very well in both wrestling and baseball. It'd be a while before I broke my back and all of those hopes died their slow, torturous death. At the time I was projected to have a very solid and respectable high school Wrestling career.
My Dad was always bragging about me and talking me up to others. Not my sister, not at that time. If he wasn't ragging on her for her mediocre grades, then he was hounding her for something else.
Were those the answers? I don't know. Looking back now, I wonder if my other sister's death had something to do with it. When my other sister died, it severely effected me. I mean it completely changed who I was and how I looked at life. I went from a carefree little boy, into a take everything way to serious teenager overnight. My sister on the surface seemed to only grieve as you would a normal death. You cry, you bury, and then you move on with life. Looking back now, I wonder if a part of her turning to drinking, getting behind the wheel of a car drunk, as if she had no concern at all of the "what ifs". I wonder if it might have been her way of dealing with our other sister's death.
I didn't end up telling my Dad about the incident and it wasn't to protect my sister. It was to protect me. At the time I was in a Oskaloosa Community Play and I was having the time of my life. It was such a fun and rewarding experience. I knew that if my Dad found out about my sister's drunk driving incident, that it would put him in a sour mood. She wouldn't be around for him to yell and scream at, but I would be. Even though a part of me wanted to see my sister come to terms with actions having consequences, I knew the real sufferer would end up being me if I talked. I kept my mouth shut and the play turned out to be a memory nearly 27 years later I still cherish.
I don't miss being put in these types of predicaments. They weren't everyday occurrences, but they weren't exactly rarities either. They happened more often than I would've liked them to have. I enjoy being an adult more than I did being a kid. Paying taxes is a drag, as are some of the other responsibilities. That's a fact. No longer getting yelled and screamed at for someone else's mess ups? That's a fact too.
