|Two cousins lived on a farm one road over West of our place. Ed and George. They were about my age. One day they rode their bikes over to hang out. We were poking around our junk yard when one of them picked up an old truck tire carcass. 'Hey hop, wanna go for a tire ride down the hill yonder'? Yonder was our front pasture. It was a long, not too steep hill, that ended at a creek at the bottom. The creek was only a few inches deep, except where I dug a deeper pool. 'We'll get wet' I pointed out. 'So what. It's hot today'.|
So, off we went, pushing that truck tire up the long hill. George went first. We pulled the sides of the tire open so George could wedge himself in, then shoved him off. Just as we expected, the tire rolled downhill, leapt off the creek bank and fell over in the creek, downstream from the pool. George pried himself out by the time we got there, but was too dizzy to stand for a few minutes. Ed went next, then me, then Angel. We were all wet and mud covered but laughing until Daryl wanted to ride. I said no and Daryl started crying. 's***, let him go. He'll just cry until we do', Angel advised.
So, we wedged Daryl into the tire. About two tire revolutions into his ride, the screaming began. Daryl must have been struggling to get out because the tire began wobbling, turned at an angle and went off the creek bank into a pool I had dug out. We ran down the hill, wrestled the tire out of the waist deep water. Poor Daryl. He had been under for a short while, so dizzy he didn't know which way up was. As he was freed from the tire he vomited and dirtied himself. Ed, George and I got his clothes off and washed him up in the creek. I cleaned out his underwear and overalls as best I could. Since he was always having little accidents, I thought no one would think anything else happened. Silly me.
After we got Daryl cleaned up and calmed down, we rolled the tire back to the junk pile. Ed and George said goodbye and peddaled off on their bikes. That evening at supper, Daryl started telling the tale of how we all tried to drown him by stuffing him in a tire and rolling it into a pool in the creek. Mom and granny hugged him, clucking over the little critter like two hens.
Dad gave Angel and me a good yelling at, more chores to do and forbid me from digging pools in the creek. Ed and George couldn't come over for awhile. Fun summer days, those.
Submitted By: Hoppy from IA on 2009-11-05