A Puddle of Pee

Three houses down from my former friend, Margaret, lived my accusers.  When I first moved to Rawles Avenue in Irvington I was nine with an innocence and naivete that allowed me to believe that everyone should like me.  What was not to like?  I was a good and nice little girl.  Even Hazel, the self-appointed head of our family, liked me a good bit of the time.   It was during those times when I behaved like a child (say, a nine-year-old) that got me in trouble with the boss.  But seven houses down the street, I was trouble; I was a very bad little girl.

"There she is!  Get her!" a girl about my age yelled over the chain-linked fence.  She was standing with an older girl and a man in their backyard.  Huh?  I was just walking down the street with my hands in my pockets.  What had I done?  I was used to angry accusations of wrongdoing at home, but these were strangers.  The girls pointed to me and the man started walking aggressively in my direction. "Stop right there!" he yelled.   I couldn't move; I was paralyzed. The girls joined the man on the sidewalk, and all three demanded I give it back.  I stood dumbfounded, saying nothing as they continued to yell at me.  I had no idea what they were talking about, yet I believed their anger at me was justified.  I was guilty. But guilty of what?  What had I done this time?

There is some debate at what age children can use mental reasoning to decipher their environment, apply logic to it, and then discuss it with intelligence and maturity.   Some say the age is seven.  Others say younger, but most agree it's no older than nine.  Not so in my case.   As I was standing alone on the sidewalk seven houses from home, surrounded by three screaming strangers, I was unable to discern fact from fiction.  In fact, they convinced me I had it--whatever it was.  Maybe I did have it.  The day before, when I walked past their house, possibly I saw it on the sidewalk, and I thought it belonged to no one so I took it.  I was confused.  I couldn't remember.

"You, young lady, are a very bad little girl!" The man said.  "Give it back right this minute or I will call the police!"  I began to tremble at the thought of going to jail.  I wet myself and started to cry, but I couldn't find the words to defend myself.  This adult, a person of power and authority, said I was bad, so therefore, it must be true.  I'd been on the losing end of false accusations many times under the tutelage of Hazel, so I knew my chances of proving myself innocent were not good.  I was being accused of stealing it by three angry neighbors, and I didn't even know what it was.  To make matters worse, once Hazel found out I wet myself, I would suffer the switch.

"I found it!"  A small child yelled from behind the chain-linked fence.  He was holding something in his hand and waving it back and forth.  "I found the turtle, guys! It was right here all along."  Suddenly, I was all alone on the sidewalk standing over a puddle of pee.  Oh, boy!  Was Hazel gonna be mad.