Part 2
I stand up very slowly. My eyes still locked on the water, remembering when I was eight, and the last hurricane. I didn't know much then. I had always been fascinated by the storms, and I wanted to go play in the hurricane as soon as I knew we were on hurricane alert, which was the day before it hit.
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Mrs. Adams had walked in front of our classroom calm and slowly in her robot like manner. "Children, we are under hurricane advisement, so there may not be in school tomorrow as if the hurricane hits you may need to stay inside."
I jumped out of my chair excitedly. "Yes." I couldn't believe it. It seemed like one of the happiest things ever. A hurricane, a real live hurricane. We usually didn't get them to come this far up the coast.
"Douglas, do I need to tell your father you are misbehaving again?" She arches her eyebrow in my direction, as the other kids laugh.
I drop to my seat instantly. I was embarrassed that the kids were laughing at me, but I was frightened if she told my father. If one kid was considered the geek of the high school, I was it, minus the glasses, and the fact that the kids all knew my dad was the sheriff made me even more of a target.
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I blink hard, trying not to be reminded of that time. It's weird looking back on those days, and realizes I use to do spontaneous things all the time, and I didn't care what they thought. I wasn't afraid to be who I was. I am locked in this image now of the perfect son, the one who doesn't goof up, and the person who does everything that he is told. The reason now that a lot of people think I am boring, they think all I stand for is honor, and duty, and serving this town. Before I was 8, I was happy being the geek. And even though a lot of the kids thought I was weird or a geek, I acted as if they were my friends. That everyone was my friend. And when you are 8 and don't know better, everyone is your friend. And I wasn't ever excluded from anything. It wasn't till the last beating that I got jaded, that I became suspicious of people, and began to draw away from people, where by the time I graduated high school, I was lucky I still had any friends.
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I had come home from school, excited. I had almost skipped home, I had restrained myself though. I had been yelled about it last time. I didn't moderate my behavior fully, at that point, but I was beginning to realize certain things were not tolerated, and there was no need to do them if they were going to get me yelled at or punished.
I get into the yard, where my 5 year sister Gretchen, her hair in pigtails, and my 7 year old sister Kerry were waiting for me. I was supposed to walk them home every day, but Kerry hated me, something which I never quite figured out, besides the fact that Kerry has always just been a little weird. So, since Kerry decided to walk home Gretchen, we would have to meet in the front yard, and walk in the house together, since though Kerry hated me, she didn't want me to be punished by dad. Because if I got punished by dad, then he wouldn't give me my allowance for awhile, and then, she wouldn't be able to con me into buying her candy, or letting her read my comic books.
Gretchen runs up to me, and gives me a hug, her pigtails trailing behind her back. She was a cute little kid, and I use to tease her she would grow up to be a heartbreaker, which wasn't quite so funny when years later it was true. "D, D, Guess what I learned in school today?"
"What?" I say, picking her up, and putting her on my shoulders as we make our way into the house. Kerry is walking a little bit in front of us like she always does.
"I learned to count to ten." She chirps happily.
"Awesome, backwards hi five, G." She gives me a high five. "I want to hear it after supper."
"I have to show it to mom and dad first." She says.
"I know." I say, and turn to face and stick my tongue out at her.
We get to the front door, and Kerry is holding it open for us. "Come on." She acts as if she has holding it for eternity when it fact it has been a few seconds. We walk into the house together, and I set Gretchen down.
"DOUGLAS!" My dad is standing in the living room, by his favorite chair. He does not look happy. I wonder what I had done this time.