Flight Is Prohibited

Here's a random memory. After I was betrayed by the gas station attendant, my Mother pressed on with her demand that I be killed. Most of the talk went on behind my back, but I could hear a lot of it. Their "whispering" wasn't as quiet as they thought it was, or else they didn't realize how good my hearing was.

I think my hearing has gotten worse in the last ten years, but as late as 1989 I was surprising doctors with my hearing acuity. At that time the doctor giving me a physical got several feet away from me, brought out a pocket watch and told me to say "stop" when I heard it. I said "stop" immediately. She thought I didn't understand her. She held the watch up at my ear level, four or five feet away and said, "No, you're suppose to wait while I bring it gradually closer to your ears. Then, when you hear it, AND ONLY WHEN YOU HEAR IT, you're to say stop."

"Stop."

"I haven't moved any closer at all."

"I can hear it."

So she reversed the test. She pulled the watch away and told me to say "stop" when I couldn't hear it. She was almost out the room by that time. At least 8 feet away. She said my hearing was better than any 20-year old she'd ever examined. She asked me if I ever went to rock concerts. I said, "Never". At first she said, "Maybe that's it." Then she thought a minute, and said, "Nah."

Anyway, back to age three and 9 months, 1953. With all the talk about murdering me, I was terrified. Each night I thought I wouldn't wake up. So I started thinking about running away. We made a stop at another isolated gas station in the middle of desert. There was brush all around. I was small enough I could hide behind any of it. So I ran off.

I got maybe 200 yards away, when it hit me. What was I going to eat? What's here to drink?

I took a beating when I came back, for having thought of running away.