By Tyrone A.Moore
I don’t think that I had even slowed down to watch out for any cars, as I ran across the street to my house! When I ran into the house crying, m mother asked, “Maria what is the matter with you?” I said, “Poppy put his big finger in my culo!” (my butt). My mother said, “he did what?!” Boy my mother was furious, as she had me lift up my dress, as she pulled down my panties to check my butt! I thought that she was going to give me a spanking for letting that happen to me. Mom could see the area around my rectum was red where my godfather had penetrated me. “That son-of-a-bitch!” mom said in espanol. “How could he do something like this, to such a little girl?” She warned me not to go across the street ever again! And when my dad arrived from work, my mother told him what had happened to me. Boy, was he upset! “He did what?” My dad asked my mother, “how do you know, that she is just telling you another one of her lies?” Mom said, “because I had checked her in the area, she said that he sodomized her, and it was red!” After hearing mom confirming, that I was telling the truth, my dad told my mother, “I am going over there right now, and cut off his pendejos penis!” Mom tried to calm my dad down, “don’t go over there Jose, her culo is not torn or bleeding. It is just red and irritated.” Just forget about it. You see mom did not want any trouble so close to home. She went into bathroom, and ran some warm water into the bathtub with a lot of salt, and told me sit down and soak myself for a while, just in case I was infected. Knowing my mother, she probably have put a curse on my dad’s cousin, for doing what he did to me! After that incident with my godfather, I was very afraid, and did not trust, any man or even boys. My mother and dad did not speak to my godfather much anymore after that happened to me. When there were moments, they had no choice of running into my godparents, they manage to barely speak to them. Shortly after school was out for the year, we moved to Anchorage Alaska, the same city our old neighbors, the Athans moved to a while ago. Anchorage Alaska is a unified municipal city, which is Alaska’s most populated city including its neighboring city Matanuska-Susitna accounting for over 40 percent of the state’s population. With an elevation of 102 feet, and 1,706 square miles of land area, the city isvthe fourth-largest by area in the United States and larger than than the smallest state, Rhode Island, which has 1,212 square miles of land. Well things for me in Anchorage got worse. The people there called us niggers!
The school that I was enrolled in was named Spring Hill Elementary, because it was very close to our home. And our neighborhood was considered low income. Unfortunately did we know, that this school was rated below average in school quality compared to other schools in Alaska. Students at this school were making less progress from one grade to the next. Low progress with low test scores means students are starting at a low point and were falling even further behind their peers at other schools in the state. Disadvantaged students, and students like myself with learning disability, also fall way behind other students in the state, with large achievement gaps. In the third grade there, I would get jumped almost everyday, by a gang of girls on the way to the school, and when I went to the restroom! The teacher I had hated me, and called me darky. I guess because I was the darkest Mexican in her classroom. During the beginning of the school year, my teacher had us doing some kind of project. As we were engaged in our project, I started to sing a song out loud. The teacher told me to stop singing, but I was being stubborn and just kept on singing in the classroom. “Ok, since you refuse to stop singing, then you can go over and stand in the corner young lady!” My teacher had a lot of animosity toward me. I just did not appeal to her at all. In the classroom where I sat, another girl sat there in the first part of the day session. I sat in this particular chair in the afternoon session. The teacher, got the two of our names mixed up all the time, I guess because the other little girl was Mexican also. The teacher would get all frustrated trying to remember who was who, depending on what time of the day it was. She just called me darky. “Hey you darky, come over here.” I would say with an attitude, “my name is not darky!” ‘Oh sit down and shut up darky,” the teacher snapped back! I recall one day we were doing a reading assignment, and I wasn’t sounding out the words properly. I remembered the word like it was yesterday. The word was “out.” But at the time, I just could not remember the word. She picked me up by the shoulders and started shaking me real hard and fast. It almost felt like my brains was rattling inside my head! “You know the word!’ “You know the word!” she insisted angrily. But I really didn’t know! Although, I am pretty sure, that she had caused me to have some brain damage, or at the least, caused me to suffer a concussion, that I, or anyone else didn’t know about. For my lack of remembering words, was probably due to my mother speaking Spanish to me, instead of speaking English to me. I never learn how to read or write English or Spanish very well. So when I see or hear words, regardless in English or Spanish, I would easily get all confused! It didn’t help that my teacher did not have any patience with me. “You sit down and start listening, and pay attention!” Right after all that violent shaking, it seemed it made me have to go pee, real bad! So I had asked the teacher, if I may go to the restroom? She said, “no” of course. Apparently still upset from earlier in the day. I knew I had held it long enough. I told her, “I can not hold it any longer!” She came over and bent down, so that her mean old ugly face was directly in my face. “I don’t care if you cannot hold your pee!” I could smell her hot breath, as her eyebrow flickered with anger, as she spoke to me. “Now just sit there and be quiet!” Well only if she knew what she was doing. I knew I was about to explode. I tried to squeeze my bladder muscle as long as I could, with all the strength I could muster up! I knew if I pee on myself, that the whole classroom would laugh at me. And I knew that the teacher would be so upset at me, who knew what she would do to me. All I could do as my bladder got weaker, was to sit helplessly as the very warm liquid streamed down my leg, and on to the floor. Leaving a nice big yellow puddle of urine on the seat that I was sitting in and unto the floor beneath me. Although I felt a huge relief of the pressure of having to hold my bladder for so long. It was very painful, and very uncomfortable, to say the least! When my teacher saw what I had did, she walked over and asked me, “what is that?” I said, that it was water. “No it is not!” she said in a fit. “That is pee!” Obviously embarrassed, “no it isn’t pee,” I said very convincingly. At least to me. I refused to take ownership of the puddle on the floor. I guess she was suppose to think that someone else did it. As long as I stayed put inside my chair, the evidence that was on the bottom of my butt, could not convict me of the crime on the scene. When I got home and told my mother what had happened at school, she was steaming hot! She couldn’t believe the teacher would not let me use the restroom.
- End of episode 6. Please continue story on episode 7…