"That's funny, Kirk," Amy said. "What did your parents say about it?"
"Well, that's what I mean. They didn't think it was real funny at all. My father almost went out of his bird screaming about what would the neighbors say and I was a disgrace to his name and all that kind of shit. And he should talk! I heard about it for years. So even back then they weren't the most understanding of people. God, you'd think I had robbed a bank or something instead of just being a stupid kid who didn't know any better."
"It's too bad," Brent said. I can't even imagine what it would be like to grow up with parents like that, he thought.
"Well, it's no skin off my back. I haven't stopped drinking since," Kirk said with a grin.
"My folks were always pretty good," Brent said. "They seemed to understand things fine. As far as I can remember, I was never spanked."
"I don't think I was either," said Kirk. "But I would have preferred it. I always got the psychological approach - the lecture, the guilt-and-freeze treatment."
"I remember once though when I was really little that I was sure that my mother was going to smack me good and hard. I was really scared by the whole thing, but I guess she understood even then," Brent said.
Amy leaned forward. "Tell us," she said. "I'd like to hear about it. The things that people remember are fascinating."
"Well, I must have been only three or four maybe," Brent continued. "My mother and my grandmother, who lived with us, were taking me along to pay a visit to a great-aunt who lived in a home. The home was kind of like a farm, I remember, because the part I liked about the visits was seeing the pigs and the turkeys they had there. I don't think I had ever been allowed upstairs to see my great-aunt. I don't remember ever seeing her before that day.
"We were in the car and it was raining. I felt good. I was sitting on my grandmother's lap and I could feel her arms around me. She always kind of tickled my stomach. She had a dress on that had blue flowers all over it. I was watching the windshield wipers go back and forth. My mother and my grandmother were talking, but I wasn't listening.
"My mother said to me as we pulled into the driveway of the old place, 'Listen now, Brent, you've got to be very quiet and not yell or run around. Aunt Sarah isn't well.'
"When the car stopped, my grandmother went inside to visit, I guess, while my mother walked me around the farm to see the animals. There were puddles all over I wanted to jump in. The grass sparkled, it was so wet. We watched the pigs for a while. They were enjoying the new mud. My mother said, 'It's time to go visit Great-aunt Sarah in the big house now.'
"The house was very quiet and dry, I remember. We went upstairs and walked into a large room. Far across the floor a big bed was nestled against the wall. Women in white rushed around. Aunt Sarah was in the bed.
"We walked across the floor to the bed. I hung onto my mother's dress. I peeked from behind my mother as we stood by the bed and saw my great-aunt's hands fluttering all over the blanket like little birds or something. It looked like if she smiled, the skin around her mouth would crack.
"'Oh, my little Brent,' she said, 'come here to me.' She stretched out one hand to me. It was all shiny and I could see the veins standing out. I pulled back behind my mother, but she pushed me forward. I could feel my great-aunt Sarah's hands shaking on my shoulder.
"'Give Aunt Sarah a kiss,' my mother said. Aunt Sarah pulled me closer. I couldn't seem to move or breathe. She tried to kiss me, but I jerked away from her and ran out of the room and down the steps and out the front door. I waited outside by the car and I was shaking all over. I don't know why she turned me off like that, but I just couldn't stand to feel her hands all over me.
"Well, my mother came down and I was really scared. I knew I had done something wrong and I was sure that she was going to whale the daylights out of me. I could feel it already. But she didn't. When she and Grandmother came downstairs, she just said, 'We're going home now, Brent.' She never scolded me or anything. She must have known how I felt."
"You're lucky," Kirk said. "My mother would have thrown me to the pigs and left me behind."
"I remember something like that, kind of," Amy said, "only it was the opposite. It was a place I didn't want to leave and my mother almost had to drag me away."
"Where was it?" Brent asked.
"Old friends of my folks that owned a greenhouse."
"What is this, an afternoon down Memory Lane?" Kirk said.
"Sure, why not?" Brent said. He was really interested in what Amy had to say. "There's nothing else to do. No more party to plan for or anything. Anyway, I think it's interesting to hear about you guys."
"So do I," Amy said. "Maybe we can figure out what makes you tick, Kirk."
"That's tough. I don't even know myself."
"So what happened at the greenhouse, Amy?" Brent asked.
"Oh, that. Well, you know how I feel about plants. I was just a little girl and we were visiting friends. They had a greenhouse, as I said. It seemed huge to me at the time, although if I saw it now, it would probably seem just regular size. The old folks were all in talking and I was standing at the door of the greenhouse looking at all the beautiful flowers. I mean, there were flowers everywhere, hanging from the ceiling and in rows of tables and planters and boxes. It smelled wonderful. The lady said, 'Amy, dear, you may go in. I'm sure you're bored by all the grown-up talk.' So I started in. My mother yelled after me, 'Now don't touch anything, Amy.' She always did that when we were visiting people.
"So off I went skipping into the jungle. And it was great. I just wandered around, sniffing and, heaven forbid, touching everything. Some of the leaves were shiny and some were fuzzy, and I had a great time. I climbed in under the tables and played in the dirt and picked up fallen blossoms and put them in my hair. I was a regular plant freak even then, I guess, and I had never been in a real live greenhouse before.
"Maybe you can guess what happened. It came time to go and I hid in the back of the greenhouse. I didn't want to leave all those flowers. So I scrunched back there knowing that my folks would be angry, but I didn't care. When they finally got tired of calling for me to come out, my mother stomped in and barreled her way down the aisle and found me hiding in the back. She smacked my bottom and grabbed my hand and I threw a real beauty of a temper tantrum, screaming and yelling and clutching the leg of the table. My mother was furious. I was supposed to be such a cute, bright, gentle little lady, you see. And there I was all covered with dirt and moldy flowers and screaming my head off."
"How'd they finally get you out of there?" Kirk asked.
"The lady that we were visiting came in and chuckled and clucked and said would I like a plant to take with me. I said I sure would and the tears stopped immediately. My mother protested, seeing as how it would spoil me, she said, but I got a plant anyway. It was an African violet with pink flowers on it. It was the first plant that I ever had and I took good care of it for years. In fact, I've still got some violets that were made from cuttings from that original plant."
"What a freaky little kid you must have been. Just like Sally from next door, I bet," Kirk laughed.
"I sure remember that well. I bet my mother does too. She was probably never so embarassed before or since."
"If you want to talk about parents," Kirk said, "I'll tell you about my tenth birthday, which had to have been the classic nightmare of all time. Whenever it was my birthday, we always had a birthday dinner and I opened my presents after I blew out the candles of the cake. It was one of the few times when my parents would make a big deal over me. I always got incredible presents like they were trying to buy me off for the rest of the year. So when I was ten I was flying around somewhere like ten feet off the ground all day because I expected that I would get a new bike, see. It was really agony after I got home from school knowing that I would have to wait through cocktail hour, when my parents had their usual one too many, and then all the way through some fancy dinner before I'd have a chance to get that bike I was counting on.