A Change of Plans - Sue

I was leading my pony behind the metal barn my father had built for his construction equipment, his dump truck, bulldozer, welder and other things. It was a summer morning, perfect for the exploration of life. I was heading down to the little creek, where members of The Secret Society had built a raft which had quickly sunk, when my right foot caught on something sharp and cutting, and it stabbed just below and a little behind my ankle on the right side, in that soft spot right in front of the back tendon. I rested my left hand on my pony’s back to brace myself and bent my right knee. I lifted my foot to see a broken jar stuck on my foot, grabbing just above the edge of the tennis shoe. I pulled it off. It stung a little but not enough to make me cry.

There didn’t seem to be any need to change plans, so I continued on to the little creek that cut under the dirt driveway in a big steel culvert, the driveway that led to the big red barn with the white milk house and concrete silo. But after a few steps, I heard a squishing sound in my right shoe, as if I had already sloshed with one foot through the little creek. My tennis shoe was oozing red out of the ankle area. I didn’t want to go in the house and get it cleaned up, because I was having a good time with my pony, but the red oozing out of my shoe scared me a little bit.

I went up to the house and in the back door. My right tennis shoe left red tracks in the hall. My mother was in the kitchen. I held up my right foot and it dripped. Her eyes got big and she dropped a spoon. She let out a little sound that was like a cross between a squeal and a squawk. She scooped me up and ran me to the bathroom. She sat me on the toilet and took off my right tennis shoe and her hands got stained with blood. Then set me on the edge of the tub and stuck my ankle under running water. The water in the tub looked like weak sun tea.

She cleaned it out real good and put some smelly stuff on it out of a dark brown bottle. It stung and bubbled up. After awhile, it stopped bleeding and she bandaged it. She said I had to stay in the house for the rest of the day, so I sat at the dining table and drew pictures of horses. She threw my tennis shoes in the trash and wiped up the red tracks on the hall floor. “Just wait until your father gets home,” she said, and I thought I was in trouble for getting hurt, which didn’t seem like it was my fault. “I’m going to tell him about the trash out there, and you kids getting hurt on it.” Then I knew I would be okay. I got a glass of milk and two Oreo cookies.