I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - The Cottages - 10

Since I was older now, I was placed into one of the buildings in the section they called “The Cottages.”

I think I was probably around 6 years old now.
Maybe 5 but definitely not 7, since I recall when and where my 7th birthday occurred.

The cottages where smaller than the big main building but if I recall correctly similar in structure.

I remember in the day room there was a record player and my favorite record to listen to was “Peter and the Wolf”.

I don’t remember the story anymore. Just the title.

(That reminds me that back at “Gerrish Court” I had a little square brown record player. I remember I had little records that were red and yellow plastic that had songs on them. The different record speeds back then were 78, 45, and 33 1/3. Mine were 78’s. I remember a few of my records. “Little Audrey Says”, “Frosty the Snowman”, and something about “a tisket, a tasket, a green and yellow basket”.)

Anyway, some of the memories from the time of the cottages are as follows…

I vaguely recall school. A classroom. A little girl that had a crush on me. “Susan”, was that her name? She had long blonde hair? I seem to recall a bus to school? Not sure. A small class “in room” play? I think maybe I was chosen as the lead but didn’t do it cuz I didn’t want to kiss the girl which was what happened at the end of the play.

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I didn’t like the crust of bread. I don’t recall why. I just didn’t like it. When I was at home with my mother, she would cut the crust off of my sandwiches. At the orphanage there was definitely no one that was going to do that for me. So here at Brightside when I would eat a sandwich, I would just leave the crust behind on my plate. One of the nuns told me that I had to eat it or I would have that same left-over crust for my next meal. Not remembering now what happened with that but somehow it turned into me finishing my crusts.

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One day at the cafeteria a nun slapped me in the face and managed to knock out my tooth. The empty tooth socket bled and the nun seemed distressed that she had inflicted more damaged than she had sought to do. I felt happy about her distress and felt that she deserved to feel bad about it since it wasn’t my idea of a good time either. The tooth had already been loose which is why it got knocked out so easily and all in all I felt that the event turned in my favor when she saw the blood.

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One day while outside playing at the cottages, I remember one kid got really upset and threw his glasses on the ground and stomped on them. I asked another kid why he was so upset and he said it was because he had just found out that his parents were not coming back for him.

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There was a little gully that ran through the area. It had lush vegetation and something called, skunk cabbage growing in it. There was a little stream that ran along the bottom of it and one day one of the kids I was with, put water into an empty plastic container he had found down there and then he dared me to drink it.

I don’t recall why I did, but I did.

I think that event may be connected to a time when I became very, very sick.

I say “very, very” because of the way the nuns treated me during that time. It seems there was one with me pretty much around the clock, sitting by my bedside, putting cold wet washcloths on my forehead.

Yup. Must’ve been pretty sick to rate that kind of attention from the nuns.

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A group of us kids were taught the song “Itsy Bisty Spider”, and taught gestures to go with the song to perform on stage at some kind of big banquet which I guess was probably all about raising money for the orphanage.

There were other things too, like I remember some of the older kids being in a play and dressing like cowboys.

Was it a Christmas season banquet? Maybe, but I’m not remembering for sure.

Anyway, we practiced our song together as a group and also individually, to be ready when the big night came.

And then there we were. About 15 or 20 of us little kids lined up across the stage of this big auditorium singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider”.

“Itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain. And the itsy bisty spider went up the spout again.”

And then we were done and began to take our bows as we were taught. Bowing from the waist.

The applause! The bright lights! The cameras flashing!

And I on stage with all my little orphan-mates. Bowing and drinking in the applause.

I bowed. And I bowed…

And I bowed. And I…

At one point I glanced to my left, away from the audience and that’s when I realized that everyone else had already left the stage!

I was standing out there on that big stage bowing and bowing away, all by myself!

Since I had been the last kid on my right side of the stage, I hadn’t noticed when they had all exited stage left.

Of course upon having that realization I ran like hell across the stage and out of the flashing lights, and delighted view of the audience.

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One day whilst I was outside playing, one of the sisters came up to me and said that I needed to get ready right away because my mother had arrived and was taking me home.

What a surprise! I didn’t know about this! No one had told me about it! I was so happy!

I quickly gathered whatever there was to gather and became ready!

The sister then brought me to…

To who? Who is this? This woman is not my mother. What’s going on?

As my heart fell, I watched this new scene unfold before me, as I learned that this woman whom the sister had called my “mother” was just a social worker, that had come to take me to a foster home.

My elation turned into anguish at the depth of the disappointment my emotions were engaging in.

As my chariot of happiness turned into flames and exploded at the bottom of a very high dark cliff, I found my expression in wailing and sobbing uncontrollably.

Which as I remember I was engaged in for hours…

How long we drove, I don’t recall, but eventually we did arrive somewhere.

The social worker brought me into the house still sobbing & attempted to introduce me to the woman there but I just could speak, so lost was I in the throes of my own emotional pain, the sobbing just wouldn’t stop until it had it’s cathartic expression.

The woman seemed nice enough and the worker pointed out to me the 2 children playing in the yard, and said that she thought I would like it there, but I just couldn’t stop sobbing.

I guess the worker took that as a sign that she should try another place so she took me back to the car and we drove away.

She just didn’t understand that it wasn’t the house or the woman that had me in such distress but that it was being told my mother had arrived to take me home only to find that it wasn’t true.

So we drove on and on and on until we finally came to a farm in a town called Granby.

By this time the sobs were running out and the social worker took that to mean that I liked this place better.

Adults can be so stupid. All it meant was that I was finally just all cried out and emotionally drained.

I remember realizing that she had misunderstood why my crying was stopping, but like happened so often in my childhood world, I felt helpless to communicate to the world of giants in any way that would have meaning to them, or facilitate their understanding in any way that would really matter, so I would just watch and ride the wave of changes that were seemingly beyond my immediate control.

(This is where I will begin the process of naming some people by “initials” of 1st name, or perhaps by some other designation when I feel it appropriate.)

And so I was introduced the “M” residence and Mrs. “M”. I remember thinking that the woman at the previous house was younger. This one I thought looked a bit like the witch from “The Wizard of Oz”.

But like I said I was “all cried out”. Emotionally exhausted. No place to go except back to the experience at hand.

What came next I don’t really recall, nor do I recall meeting the rest of the “family” or my first meal there etc.

The memories of my stay here at the “M” residence is a tumble jumble of memories that I won’t even attempt to decipher temporally.

I will just share what memories I can, as they occur to me through this writing.

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~PREVIOUS RELATED LINKS BELOW~

Link to I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - The Beginning - 1.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep - 2.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - Mountain Climbers - 3.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - John - 4.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - A Monster In The Night - 5.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - Days Of Future Past - 6.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - Once upon a time in a valley far, far away - 7.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - Brightside - 8.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work - A Trip To The Zoo - 9.

I PLEIADES - An Autobiographical Work.

Looking For Followers -Autobiography-.

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