The Pitchfork


Sure, honey, we’re both smiling now . . . .

One blustery fall afternoon, when I was in high school, a fellow student with whom I worked at a local stable snuck up behind me in the barns, put his hands around my throat, and “strangled” me.  From his perspective it was a joke, and he may have even had a crush on me, so it may also have been a bid for my attention.

My attention he got.  I very nearly killed him with a pitchfork, but I realized at the last possible second he was friend not foe.  My pitchfork went instead into thick hay bale, right beside his bicep, stopping only as the tines hit the wall behind it with a violent thunk.

Needless to say, he ended up the more terrified of the two of us. He asked for my forgiveness. I slapped him so hard his glasses flew off.

We never really spoke after that incident. But, one never truly forgets the first man one slaps. So I think of him every October though, when people put out hay bales for Halloween as part of a “scary” tableux.

I’d like to say I’ve changed since high school. But I haven’t. It’s simply not possible.

It’s all down to my mum. She’s always been an exceptionally fearful person. By age three, I was so used to her being afraid over nothing, I lost the ability to be afraid. In place of fear, I experience rage.

Apparently, my subconscious mind is filled with anger toward people who try to instill fear in others because I’ve lived with the reality of a family member crippled by it. I’ve seen fear’s awful consequences. I’ve had my life impacted even by another’s fear. But what goes around, comes around.

When I greet you at the door dressed as the innocent farmer’s daughter and carrying a pitchfork, don’t be foolish. Choose to take the candy corn treat I offer. Otherwise . . . the trick will be on you, dearie.

3 thoughts on “The Pitchfork

  1. I don’t know what you suffered with your mother but it is a bad thing to live with someone who has a disability. I know that you were not mistreated but it is still painful and you should not diminish your anguish everyones pain HAS to be validated. I validate it. Your a survivor in that way and with this coward who tried to harm you.
    I am so glad you like the song you know some of us girls just don’t put up with that shit! LOL
    I always enjoy your posts and your comments! Thank you for the well wishes I send you well wishes to! Have a great weekend! ( It’s Thursday already! )

  2. I am in total awe of your talent! Wow, and self-taught on the piano? Holy haciendas! I wish you every success with your new album. Amazing song. As the saying goes, to live is to triumph.

    I was never in an abusive home/relationship situation, but a couple of my closest friends were. It was scary how everyone outside the family (and really close friends) thought the father was great and the mother a problem. Total sociopath. And in one case it was sexual abuse. And they still went on playing happy families!

    My mum suffers from paralyzing fear (literally, she can’t move) for no actual reason — neurochemical thing in the brain. It was hard to deal with as a child, and only got worse as she (and I) got older, but I wouldn’t dream of comparing it what you and my other friends have gone through.

    I think being a fighter is good thing. Every woman should know how to fight for herself. Someday I’ll tell you about the guy who actually intentionally tried to kill me. And what I did to him.

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