Fright

The trip to Hot Springs was an annual joy. Being with my grandparents balanced the fact both of my parents were very preoccupied people.

T To my Grandmother Daisy, I was a special child. She had one child in an era when women might have a dozen. Her sister Maud had nine children. She knew loss during pregnancy and even death of a babe upon birth. I was her second chance victory over fate. What I liked best was she was always glad to see me walk into a room.

Joining her and Grandpa Yeisley staying in a cozy cabin in the State of Montana was perfection on earth. We found it every summer. Flower beds lined every lane and the sun shone nearly everyday. There was a soda shop downtown and a movie theater. I remember seeing a movie about the San Francisco earthquake.

Once Grandpa Yeisley took me to a drug store. He bought a book about a fuzzy bear. I treasured the book for years because this tall, actual cowboy looking man bought it for me.

On this morning I was playing with my dolls on a grass area near the cabin door. I was wearing new vacation shoes. Is anything better than looking down at your feet to see new sandals. Not sturdy school shoes, but yellow sandals with flowers where the laces would be resting.

"Hey, girlie those look brand new. My sister would like those. And the doll. How about you give them to me."

I gazed upward to see a boy standing between me and our cabin.

"These are my shoes and this is my doll."

"Right now they are. But I intend to take them. If you don't give them to me."

We stared at one another. He was bigger and tougher than me. I considered my options. The cabin looked very close. The front door was open with only a screen door between me and a call for help.

It was as if he could read minds.

Don't even think about calling for help. I can grab and run faster than anyone in town. "

I felt tears rising from deep inside. I loved my doll dearly. I had had her since two Christmases. My grandmother had sat her at a child sized table with a tea party in progress. I even had a high chair her size. And a bunk bed. Very few children had a doll bunkbed.

Which reminds me. When we moved to California, I put the doll, the bed, the high chair and the doll dishes into an upstairs bedroom closet. I fully planned to come back for them one day. I felt the farm would last forever.

But now was now. "Forever" would have to wait. The boy stood firmly in place. Flowers in the flower bed didn't make any difference.

Just as the boy took a step toward me, the cabin screen door flew open.

And, there in the Montana sunlight stood my Grandmother Daisy.

At least I assumed it was her. It was certainly her white hair but it was uncombed and stood wildly framing her face. Also, where was her morning robe or her flowered housedress. She was wearing only a white slip. She had put on her bulky 1940's hearing aid but hadn't hooked up the wires.

There were the various wires leading from her bosom battery pack up toward the ear plugs.

My attractive grandmother looked like a monster from outer space.

I sneaked a peek at the boy. It was delicious.

His blue eyes were wide and I saw fright in full bloom. I discovered he could run away faster than anyone in town.

My doll nestled on her blanket. My sandals still had that new look. They still had the flower design. .

My beloved Daisy scurried into the cabin, Grandpa Yeisley held her robe and she snuggled into its' safe folds.

I couldn't get into their circle fast enough. We held each other for a moment or so.

"Irene, you never need to be afraid if your grandmother is nearby. She protects her family."

Grandpa's eyes had a bit of a smile hidden in the corners.

I want the world to know Daisy protected me for years.

When I cough she scooped me up and took me to the farm.

I had a fever and saw actual tigers on my living room pull out bed. Daisy couldn't hear me cy out but Grandpa brought me a child's aspirin. He sat his big self down on the bed until I fell asleep.

Daisy's good soul tried to teach the dog "Shep" to grab the sleeve of my coat when I walked in the farm yard. That (by the way) was how I learned who Santa Claus was.

"Shep" grabbed the sleeve of my older brother's Don's coat sleeve. His red Santa suit sleeve. I saw it clearly under the farm yard light.

Grandma taught me how to feed the chicks and gather the eggs. She even taught me how to soothe an angry hen.

We gathered crab apples from the chicken yard tree and made them sweet tasting in the kitchen.

She made a white creamy candy for Christmas season. She paid for piano lessons from the neighbor lady. The night before she died from a major heart attack, she shuffled out to the kitchen to ask my brother and I who won the small town baseball game.

When my parents bought The Eatwell Cafe she saved me from a sad happening. My parents would let me set up paper dolls in the back booth. However, the waitress would be cranky when a customer needed the seating. She told me it cost her a greater tip because people felt sorry for me. I always wondered how the waitress knew that was true.

However, I knew one thing was true. As true as the sun in the sky in the morning and the moon in the sky at night. As true as Spring and Summer and Fall and Winter. The best moments of my childhood were when my Grandmother Daisy was glad to see my walk into the room.