Old Blue

At age eight, Julie knew everything there was to know in life. She was the oldest of seven children and practically raised them herself. She cooked the meals, washed and hung the clothes. Since she was the one keeping the household under control, she had no idea what her mom did.

Of course this wasn’t how things went in the Richardson household. Julie did only what she was asked to do. Her chores, babysit once in awhile, and help hang out the laundry. But an eight year old can only see what happens under forty-eight inches and not the real world above that. Being the oldest can feel like the world depends on you.

This particular story starts at church, back in a day when Primary was on Wednesdays. Julie wore her favorite shirt and skirt. Red, white and blue flags that covered every inch of the thick polyester. You can’t find fabric like that these days due to global warming. Way too hot.

She can’t particularly remember what was taught that day in class. But she distinctly remembers asking her mother if she could walk home with her cousin--or second cousin once removed, or something fancy like that. Of course Julie made sure her mom was preoccupied when she asked. She knew that her mom would never, in her second estate, give her permission to walk four miles home that crosses a busy highway. And, of course, her mom does not remember this, but she said yes.

So, Julie and Karlene took off on their wild journey home. Julie was used to walking long distances. She did it everyday before and after school, a toilsome half mile each way. And yes, there was a hill involved. She knew this trek would be a little harder, but she was prepared. Her goal was to beat her mother home and show her that she could do it. Maybe even do it every week.

After ten long minutes, Julie asked, “Karlene, how much longer do we have?”

Karlene was nine and walked home all the time with her sister. “Oh maybe an hour.”

An hour. Julie knew right then she would be in trouble. She held the tears back and hoped her mom was busy chatting and couldn’t leave the church house for a long time. This was her mom’s fault anyway. If she had listened to her, her mom would have said no and she wouldn’t be in trouble now.

Imaginary hours ticked by and they weren’t even halfway home yet. Maybe they were lost and they would never get home. Her strength to hold the tears weakened and they fell down her face. “My mommy’s lost a child,” she proclaimed.

Not one minute later an angry blue truck sped towards them. In Julie’s eyes the truck was on two wheels when it rounded the corner, going a hundred miles an hour. The wheels locked, and the truck skid to a halt in front of them.

It wasn’t Old Blue’s fault he looked angry, it was the man driving that made him huff and fume. That man was her dad.

Her mom was in the passenger’s seat with red puffy eyes. Julie wasn’t sure what all her dad said to her. Maybe he said, “We were worried, sick. We’re glad we found you safe.” Yeah, in a dream world.

What worried parent can hold back what they really feel at that moment? He more likely said, “You could have been killed or kidnaped,” “What were you thinking” and everyone’s favorite, “Just wait till I get you home.”

The two girls hopped into the back of Old Blue. The ride was way too short and Old Blue did his best to comfort Julie’s fears of what was to come. Karlene, however, never had to worry. Her parents would never know the journey she took.

We don’t need to recite the last details of this story. Only that Julie’s derriere was quite warm for awhile.

Old Blue was a part of many more of Julie’s adventures. Including, teaching her how to drive a stick. He was also a witness when the wind stole her favorite head rag she got from Six Flags over Texas.

He doesn’t get around much anymore. He mostly parks himself at home. But, he knows he’s loved by each of the seven kids who took their turn being his friend.