Synopsis: Two Blocks from Slab Town is based on the actual events of Cissy, an eight year old girl, growing up in a Southern, rural town during the 1960’s. Her father was a World War II veteran suffering from a post traumatic stress disorder. Cissy lives two blocks from Slab Town, an area where homes were made out of rough, slabs of wood. These huts provided little protection from its predatory environment, animal as well as human. Cissy's mother was a clairvoyant, while her father was a clairsentient. She was able to survive and protect those around her by unleashing her sixth sense. As Cissy, I was glad to have this experience. I learned that a single flame can cut through the darkness making its own path.
Two Blocks from Slab TownInvisible (part two)by Saturna Brown
Posted: 11:31 May 17, 2009
There was once a time when meadow, grove, and stream, the earth and every common sight, to
me did seem appareled in celestial light, the glory and the freshness of a dream. Ode,
Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood, Stanza I
We heard the sound of something jingling. "Could that be Santa Claus?" Joey asked.
"No," I responded wondering why he was asking about the mythical elf in mid-July. Is it possible he was having flashbacks about last Christmas, since it was the worst Christmas we ever had? Here is a short version of what happened:
Joey really wanted a bicycle for Christmas. Mother took us to see Santa Claus, who sat on a throne at Connor's Department Store. I pretended to believe in the jolly elf for Joey's sake as I sat on Santa's lap, asking for a Shetland pony, just like the one I sometimes petted on my way home from school.
An older lady living several blocks from our home, in the opposite direction of Slab Town, had several ponies kept in a makeshift shelter in her backyard. She sold their poop as fertilizer and I reckoned she used this money to buy horse feed for them.
Ellen and I would sneak into the woman's yard on most a Friday afternoons after school, since Mrs. Brown always left when the students did. So, here we were climbing up to the top of a wooden fence to pet one of the Shetland ponies. Ellen had a piece of carrot and she held it out enticing one of the ponies to come towards us. It worked! The pony sniffed as Ellen slowly moved her hand closer towards us. Ellen managed to pet its nose, while it munched on the carrot.
Carefully, I reached over and touched its silky mane.
We heard a door open. We jumped off the wooden fence. We ducked down behind a nearby bush. The old woman opened the gate to the ponies' pen and stepped in.
'Oh…my…goodness,' I thought with my heart racing. 'She's going to see us and… then… what?'
Since we were trespassing, we had two choices. We could stay where we were or we could belly crawl away from the pen. Actually, there was a third choice I came up with on the spur of the moment. I stood up and approached the pen introducing myself to the elderly woman.
"Hi!" I said watching her fill up the trough with horse feed. I thought I was loud enough, when I noticed she continued with her chore oblivious to my presence.
"Come on," hissed Ellen pulling on my sleeve, "Let's go."
I brushed Ellen's arm off my sleeve."I don't think she can hear very well."
When Ellen did not speak, I looked at her and was stunned at the expression on her face. Immediately, it became obvious at what she saw.
The old women stood behind the fence staring right at me. "Honey…I can hear ya." "I…um…just…wanted to see…the ponies," I stuttered not knowing what else to say.
"You are trespassing on my property. I don't want anyone touching my ponies, because they have sharp teeth," muttered the woman.
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