The Day the Bed Fell on My Toe

It was the week that schools were out, and I was making my bed with my mommy. All that week, that is, Monday and Tuesday, I had been going to camp. This was different than going to school. My mom had to make my lunch for one thing. Which was baloney which I love. I also get to have cookies, and my mom bought some fig newtons just for me.

Something else happened the week before which you should know about. It was Easter. And Easter means eating candy. So I had gotten a gigantic chocolate bunny, tiny Easter eggs made out of chocolate, and flowers made out of chocolate. I got a lot of candy. CANDY. And the night before Easter I went to Lenesa's house and got about a ton of candy in my stomach.

So there we were, in my bedroom, my mommy sort of crabby about my room, because it was so messy. In the morning I have to brush my teeth, wash my face, and comb my hair, make my bed. But Tuesday night, my mom said this bed hasn't been made. And she pulled the covers back and found chocolate on the bed sheet. So she yanked the bed and the whole bed fell on my toe.

I said "OW!" and I started to cry like crazy. My toe turned black and purple for a change. It really hurt. My mommy gave me some advil crushed up which tasted terrible. She called the doctor and the doctor said, if it really hurts, bring her in and I will make a hole in her toe nail.

That night I couldn't sleep. My toe hurt. I slept with my mommy. Daddy slept in my bedroom.

The next day, my mommy brought me to the doctor. The doctor made a hole in my toe. First he took a cigarette lighter and with a paper clip that he had unbended he made the paper clip clean by burning the tip of it. He put the paper clip in my toe. He stuck it way deep in my toenail. I pushed on my mommy like crazy to get me out of this place. And I said OHHH OWWWOHooooh !!!!" . After the black went away.

The doctor said, "it's supposed to not hurt Elizabeth. You are a brave girl." Then the nurse, Donna, put on a band aid. My mom said, "That's a pretty band aid with a rose on it." And the doctor said, "That's not a rose, it's Ariel." Oh.

Then I got six super balls, one white, one blue, one orange, one red, one green, and another. The sticker I put on my shirt said, "I'm a terrific kid." My mom and I went outside where a street vendor was selling oranges and mangoes. We bought some, they were really good. We ate two oranges in the taxi on the way to my mom's school.

Elizabeth wrote this April 23, 1995 when she was seven.

1 comment:

  1. that was absolutely beautiful. I cannot have written a piece like that in 95. What a talent. I love you Lizzy.

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How Dina Aunty relished her memories. Mummy and Daddy were the same, talking about their yesterdays and smiling in that sad-happy way while selecting each picture, each frame from the past, examining it lovingly before it vanished again in the mist. But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be re-created—not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry