Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Growing Up Ralph - The Hammer

Marilyn gave me this hammer on one of their visits. It’s a Nebraska Cornhuskers hammer and has a grip with football laces. What Marilyn doesn’t realize is a hammer was the “weapon of choice” the first time I committed “murder”.

I was about ten years old. The sun was just setting on what had been a perfect summer day. Everyone was outside, running around, playing all sorts of games, and having a good time.

My sister was in the front yard playing with a ball about the size of a volleyball. On one of my many trips into the front yard, I noticed she was throwing rocks into the tree. Okay, that’s weird even for me. I stopped and asked what she was doing. It seems her ball was stuck in the branches of the tree and she was trying to knock it out with rocks. She had hit it a few times but not hard enough to dislodge it.

The answer was simple – she wasn’t using the right tool for the job. I ran and got a hammer knowing that would do the trick. I threw the hammer into the tree and although the branches moved quite a bit the ball remained. I threw the hammer again this time hitting the ball, moving it just far enough to get entangled in another set of branches. The third time I threw the hammer with all my strength. It hit a low hanging branch and immediately started its journey back to earth. It would have made it too except the top of my sisters head got in the way. The hammer hit her square on the top of the head. She went limp and crumpled to the ground.

I knew I had killed her and instincts took over. First, I hid the “murder” weapon by throwing it in a bush. Secondly, I ran into the house to beg for mercy.

Busting through the front door, most likely with tears rolling down my face, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “I didn’t mean to kill her! It was an accident!”

Fearing my mom didn’t hear me I started to yell it again. Before I could get all the words out my Mom was in the front yard standing over my sister’s lifeless body. Mom quickly turned and ran back into the house. That just confirmed - my sister was dead.

Returning with a washcloth my Mom began rubbing my sister’s face, no doubt getting her ready for the funeral. Then my sister started to move. Somehow, someway my mother had brought her back to life. I didn’t kill her! I wouldn’t go to jail. I wouldn’t rot in hell!

For years following that little incident, whenever I wanted to terrorize my sister all I had to do was grab a hammer and chase her around the yard . . . . . not that I would do anything like that.


Anonymous dor said...

Haha. and at 7:03!

7:32 PM  
Blogger bobbie said...

Hi Ralph

Didn't know I was communicating with a murderer! And your own sister, to boot! I thought you'd say it was a squirrel or a bird.

I killed a sea gull once - but I prefer to say it committed suicide on my windshield.

6:28 AM  
Blogger Paul Nichols said...

Good story. Sounds like my house. Once I swung a golf club as hard as I could. I missed the ball, but I got my sister real good. Right through her eye brow. A lot of blood, a couple of stitches and a permanent scar. I'm still not a good golfer.

Re Bobbie: Just a few years ago I "murdered" a beautiful red cardinal when it flew across 4 lanes of fast traffic and right into my radio antenna. I saw it happen, but...

8:10 AM  
Blogger Jerry said...

Sometimes, the notion that you might kill them is the only advantage you have over a sibling.

Great story, Ralph!

8:39 PM  
Blogger Jim said...

Well, well, Ralph, this is the pits isn't it. I will hide the murder weapon for you (I noted it had a BIG RED 'N' on the side).
I have only killed birds (with my BB gun) and one ex-wife so far. I didn't use a hammer on any of those. :-)

9:17 PM  
Blogger Cliff said...

I will need to rethink our relationship Ralph. But the fact that you never actually did jail time makes me lean toward keeping things as they are.
Also, because you were 10 years old I'm pretty sure your sister deserved it.

6:05 AM  
Blogger Janell said...

You gave us a pretty good word picture with your sis "crumpling to the ground."

Did your mom keep her miraculous resurrecting powers or was that a one-time deal?

6:30 AM  
Blogger Aravis said...

No, you wouldn't do that. Just give her a hard hat for Christmas, and you'll be fine. *G*

1:18 AM  
Blogger Mountain Mama said...

You must have been terrified! And youir poor mother too. Goodness, this is quite a story. You should submit this to the Reminisce magazine.

3:46 PM  
Blogger Miki said...

Your mother is a miracle worker! You must have been so frightened! But nothing to how frightened your sister was! Have you given your sister a hammer as a gift yet? You would both ahve a great laugh on that one.

4:47 AM  

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