AuthorsDen.com   Join | Login  

     Popular! Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry
Where Authors and Readers come together!

SIGNED BOOKS    AUTHORS    eBOOKS new!     BOOKS    STORIES    ARTICLES    POETRY    BLOGS    NEWS    EVENTS    VIDEOS    GOLD    SUCCESS    TESTIMONIALS

Featured Authors:  Kim Glassman, iTiffany Turner, iFrances Seymour, iAlfred Garrotto, iellen george, iBonnie Milani, iWendy Laing, i

  Home > Memoir > Stories
Popular: Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry     

Tinka Boukes

· Become a Fan
· Contact me
· Sponsor Me!
· Success story
· Books
· Articles
· Poetry
· News
· Stories
· Blog
· 978 Titles
· 20,385 Reviews
· Save to My Library
· Share with Friends!
·
Member Since: Nov, 2002

   newsletter

Subscribe to the Tinka Boukes Newsletter. Enter your name and email below and click "sign me up!"
Name:
Email:
Tinka Boukes, click here to update your pages on AuthorsDen.



Featured Book
The Angel of Luxury and Sadness, Volume One
by Ian Irvine (Hobson)

A detailed study of the origins of the New Alienation. The author labels it normative or postmodern ennui and traces its rise to cultural power over the last two centurie..  
BookAds by Silver
Gold and Platinum Members


Featured Book
Galveston, 1900 Indignities, The Aftermath
by N Brown

Catherine Merit encounters new dangers when she is kidnapped and held captive by a madman for two years...  
BookAds by Silver
Gold and Platinum Members





Share    Print  Save   Become a Fan


Abandoned Life Autobiography: Part Two
By Tinka Boukes
Saturday, November 25, 2006

Rated "G" by the Author.

Share this with your friends on FaceBook









Abandoned Life ~ Autobiography:  Part Two

Childhood Years, Childhood Tears; The Perils of Tinka

One day she wanted to learn how to ride a big bike, as she called it.  So the boys thought it would be fun.  They did manage to teach her to stay balanced on the bike.  So it became real easy for her.  But the problem started when she had to stop.  Her legs way to short to stand with legs apart over the frame beam of the bike so she would just get to the point where the bike could not stay up, and she had to fall on her side to get off.  Then big brother came up with a plan.  He told her to ride up to a certain spot close to the tree and balance herself with her foot and then hold on to the branch with her one hand as she got off.  This worked well for her after a few head–on experiences with the tree and a few nasty bumps on the head and knees.

Soon Tinka gained confidence in her riding skills and started to get very brave, or reckless.  One day she decided it was time for a ride around the ‘Round Cottage’.  But there were two big potted plants at the entrance that she did not take in account all the time.  The next thing she knew she was diving head first into shrub that was graciously growing in the pot.  With the impact the bike’s beam hit her very hard on the pelvis.  Not realizing the damage that was done; too eager to get up and do it again she did not even take a peep to see if all was still in place.  Later when Tinka went to the toilet she could not get her panties off, because of the dried blood to her skin.  She never told her mom about it being too scared for what might come her way.  This incident personified Tinka’s growing up; learn something new gain needed confidence only to fall on her face and hiding her failure from the world.  Even today she holds back too afraid to trust or let the world know about her deep pain and fear filled life.

Many times Tinka and her brothers would play the dare game.  She always being the victim and typically ending with some proof that she survived another brotherly attack.  Like the day they wanted to play dress up and the boys started brushing her long hair, ending up rolling and twisting combs till it was so stuck it would not come out again.  The suffering she had to endure was horrible.  Her mother had to cut it out to release the poor little soul from passing out.  Of course that was not the last game of terror.  A few days later she became the center of attention yet again, when the boys made her sit down between them.  Bouncing a ball between her legs they tried to make it bounce over her head.  It started as great fun of all watching her laughing and yelling trying to avoid the ball from hitting her in the face.  Soon the evil stroke in the boy’s minds took over and when mom and dad left the room they took am ‘iron” marble (actually a ball bearing that came from a truck) almost the size of a golf ball, bouncing that over Tinka’s little head. She thought it was funny, too small to know the danger and the evilness of these two boys.  Oh dang, the next move mom walked in and the bounce did not miss the target this time.  It hit Tinka between the eyes just above her hairline.  The blood running into her eyes, the boys wide eyed looking at mom, but Tinka thought it was funny saying, now that was center mister Venter.  A saying they used when they did something right.  Every one started to laugh, but when Tinka saw her face in the mirror covered in blood, she screamed like a little pig, asking if this could kill her too like the ox her dad killed not long ago.  Once again her concern and fear for death to every ones amusement brought laughter into the room.

Poor girl looked like she was in a bullfight the next day, eyes darkened from the bruise and hair that started to grow in all directions.  A sad sight, but cute to those with a warped and evil sense of humor.

As Tinka grew up she became a little rebel that just would not stay home when the boys was out playing.  On this day they visited their grandma, it was playtime again at this dangerous place next door.  There was a service station on the corner of the street, and an open lot between that and their grandma’s house.  A sawmill stacked and stored some wood in bundles, huge logs about three meters long; the perfect place to play cowboys and Indians.  And so they did as evil was lurking around once more.  By this time her eldest brother just in high school was about thirteen to fourteen years of age, and her nephew and younger brother three years younger.  Tinka was eight years old.  Everything went well for an hour or so until her nephew hurt her eldest brother.  They used the empty oilcans from the service station next door by just popping them over the wall that separated the two premises.  Brother very upset thought “bugger you, I will pay you back”.  He filled his can with sand to make a real killer bomb and took aim.  Unfortunately Tinka and Nephew Wietz had the same color hair.  The bomb flew and then a scream that sounded like a siren.  When Tinka showed face, he realized the wrong target was hit.  Naas came running to his sister knowing he was in big-big trouble.  Wietz and Toeks came running towards them asking what happened.  They saw the open wound on her forehead but did not say much, stunned to silence.  Tinka took the hanky from her brother covering up the wound and ran too the water tap.  Their grandma heard the commotion and came to the fence to see what was wrong.  She ordered them to come home immediately.  She took care of Tinka and put Cornish (Connie’s) -crystals on the wound to stop the bleeding.  That evening the boys and Tinka said different prayers when mom had them by the ear and pulled them into the bathroom.  There was no time to explain or even touching toes.  She lost control and punished them severely.  Dad did not say a thing too afraid to get it him self.  He knew when to shut up and when to act.  But that day he did nothing, just stood there and listened to the howling noises that filled the house.  Grandma the witness of lost control, insanity to say the least made them some sandwiches that they had to eat with emotions and hurt stuck in their throats, hardy able to swallow the food, but knew they had to or history would repeat itself.  That night Tinka hardly slept.  She developed a nosebleed that just would not stop; but by the grace of God eventually drifted off.

Soon all was forgotten and the cowboys and Indians were back in action, this time on the other side of the fence at nephew’s house.  It was the day before Christmas and all the children were playing outside when yet again conspiracy led to disaster.  The challenge was simple - run through the veggie garden up the pathway, climb the outside toilet wall, jump down, up the tree, swing on a branch like Tarzan, let go and jump to the ground before they reached safety from the enemy.  This they had to do while chasing each other playing cowboys and Indians.  It was great fun and a rebellious chance for payback.  Guess who paid the price yet again?  None other than poor  Tinka girl.  As she jumped to catch the branch, swinging to freedom, she missed and fell from the tree.  She felt something was wrong as she stood up and looked down at her arm; it had a funny shape and bones showing.  She looked at her brother and asked him what was wrong.  He told her that she broke her arm, and the siren went off again, running into the house to her mother, who once again lost her calm.  Her aunt noticed what was wrong and insisted taking her to hospital.  It was bad news that awaited her this time.  Tinka almost lost her hand.  After eleven days and six times in the operating room the doctors manage to save her hand by inserting a plastic piece to assist her bones to bond.  She had a very hard time and many hours of unstoppable tears.  But she had a spirit powerful like a lion and the will of warrior to survive this onslaught yet again.

While her arm was still healing her cousin Jeanette took her for a spin on her new bicycle.  Tinka made a fast stop and pushed her foot into the back wheel of the bicycle cutting her ankle very badly; back to hospital she went.  The doctor had to trim sinew as it was tattered a torn.  Tinka was given stitches and off she went to her next adventure awaiting her.

She and her sister went on a picnic of their life one day.  Tinka played she was the mom and little sister had to get into this old pram all the picnic food with her.  There was a cabbage some milk and halve loaf of brown bread; a blunt knife with a Barbie pink handle and she was all dressed up in moms clothes.  Everything went well and the girls were singing along walking down the dirt road to the tree where they planned to have their picnic.  Not far from them a white horse was grazing keeping a watchful eye on these intruders.  The girls did not take much notice of this old guy.  The next move they started to cut the cabbage that was suppose to be the cake and the milk was to compliment the taste so to speak.  By this time old horsy started to move closer to see what they were up to, and the smell of the cabbage,  tempted his taste buds and must have thought there was no harm in sharing. The next move made his neck longer to take a peep from the other side of the pram as Tinka looked up.  Oh boy she jumped higher than the pram out of shock looking him straight in the eyes.  She grabbed the blanket and shoved it into the pram ordering her sister to run like hell.  Tinka grabbed the pram and started to run too, pushing it knowing she could not leave it behind.  To her misfortune the Horsy followed her trying to get a bite from this cabbage.  To Tinka it looked more like he wanted to take a bite from her; teeth showing and snorting like a demon.  Tinka slipped, tripped and fell but got up in a flash.  Then she decided to give up and stopped because she had this horrible pain in her side.  She grabbed the cabbage and threw it at the horse to make him go away.  The horse made a dead stop sliding on his butt, got up with another show of his teeth and started eating the bait.  Tinka gave her sister one look and burst out in laughter; thinking how foolish, and how easy they could’ve prevented this by giving him what he was looking for, just a bite or so to join the picnic.  Never again did the two sisters go on a “cabbage” picnic.

A few days later the girls were visiting their friend that lived down the road when they saw a “truck tire” in the grass beside the road.  Their curiosity almost turned into tragedy that day.  The tire was not a tire but a python that was taking his nap in the sun.  They ran to their parents to tell them and everyone was exited about this.  Mom always wanted to skin a python or a boa as they called it to make something for her self.  Her eldest brother wanted to hang the skin on his bedroom wall.  That’s how the drama started. Mom used her pistol to shoot it in the head and the boys gaffed it with spades.  They took the so called dead snake home and stretched it out in full

.  That’s how the drama started. Mom used her pistol to shoot it in the head and the boys gaffed it with spades.  They took the so called dead snake home and stretched it out in full length, with a cement brick and a pin through his tail and head to keep it to “dry” before skinning it the next day.  But as the myth goes that he will heal and walk again by break of day seemed like no myth but the truth.  In the early hours of the morning the night watch was sitting at the campfire close to where the snake was placed when something caught his eye.  He started to scream out with a howling sound in his voice.  The snake got loose’ then the snake approached the night watch with the intent of catching his prey.  But with the commotion going on he lifted his head and tried to escape by entering a tree.  With much fear and teamwork they got it back on the ground and really chopped his head off this time.  Knowing if they did not he would heal and return to life.

The fun started the next day with Tinka’s dog named “Worsie” who wanted to cover up this monster that was four meters long and approx. seven inches in diameter, the size of a side plate.  Worsie covered the snake using his nose and feet like cats do covering up their poop. 

But kids would be kids, and they kept on telling each other that the snake was not dead yet because of the reflexes the body had for four days.  Seems like the nerves kept on going by sending impulses and made the snake wiggle.  Then Worsie would open his treasure again first uncovering it then covering it up again until his poor nose was left bleeding from all the hard work.  Eventually he was satisfied that the demon was dead but never let it out of his sight for days.  Mom never got as far as making something, but brother did hang the skin on the wall to every ones’ annoyance.

Brother Naas wanted to collect treasures it seems when the adventurers three decided that they were going to see who the best shot was with a catapult.  The available target was a thoroughbred Sussex bull.  The bull lost his balls never again to breed after the first shot and died the next day.  Their parents never found out about what they have done…or rather what Naas had done while Tinka and little brother Toeks watched how the animal hit nose first into the ground and making the most haunting sounds.  He never got up from his knees and died from “stress” related factors, according to the old vet…not knowing what he was talking about.  They just looked at each other and made a silent vow never to tell who the real terminators were.


 

To be continued:
 
 


Want to review or comment on this short story?
Click here to login!


Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!


Reviewed by Barbara Terry 10/8/2008
OMG Tink, you have been through so much. I really liked reading this and I could actually "see" everything while it was happening. And I agree with Sandra Mushi, that boys have shorter attention spans, because they go from one thing to another because they get easily bored. But one thing I have found they never get bored of, is picking on girls. I thought my childhood was something, but it is nothing compared to what you have endured at the hands of your brothers. Suffereing broken bones, torn ligaments, and a wounded psyche all because your brothers couldn't stop being evil to you.

This is another very good chapter, and has tons of vivid images. There is only one thing tho. There are a few spelling errors you might want to correct. Other than that, this is very well written. Thank you for sharing.

May the Lord Jesus bless you, and those whom you love and who love you, and be with you always, and at your side constantly. With much love in my heart, joy to the world, peace on earth & ((((((((((MANY WONDERFUL SISTERLY HUGGGGSSSS)))))))))), your little sister, Barbie
Reviewed by Rose Rideout 7/30/2008
Tinka a great story to share as I go onto Chapter three.

Newfie Hugs, Rose
Reviewed by Mark Rockeymoore 7/13/2008
Early things are often harbingers of later ones. And yet all fits within the context of a life lived and experience gained.
Reviewed by Sandra Mushi 12/27/2007
I don't think boys mean to be violent, they just have a shorter attention span, they are naturally very curious and inquisitive and tend to get bored fast - and to boys everything is fun, lol. I feel violent and evil are just too strong words.

You had quite a childhood, Tinka. It must be so nice looking back now with a big smile.

Merry christmas and God bless,

Sandie.
Reviewed by Dawn Anderson 11/27/2007
All I want to do..is continuing reading
Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper 3/10/2007
it's seven of us and I have one sister Tinks, she use to tell mom one day she was going to kill them old boys. but we weren't quite as mean as your brothers
Reviewed by Sandie Angel 1/5/2007
Perhaps you should have had a sister to play with. Boys are boys, they are always more violent and little boys don't really care who they hurt, even their sister they sometimes think it is fun.

I'm so sorry for all that has happened.

((((( Hugz )))))

Sandie Angel :o(
Reviewed by m j hollingshead 12/18/2006
i will keep reading
Reviewed by Poetess of The Soul Sheila G 12/6/2006
YOu went through so much, and your details are Wonderful constructed Sis~!
I like reading your life!and Childhood fears/accomplishments/etc...
I will keep on reading~ Keep on with your meaningful quill, I like your wording expressions!
WArm HuGs,Sheeexoox
Reviewed by Birgit and Roger Pratcher 12/6/2006
Tinka, this is very interesting and often scary. At times we just sigh with reliefe because we know that you are here with us, but, we are scared for this little brave little girl!
Love, B&R
Reviewed by Rhonda Galizia 11/30/2006
It's good for you to finally disclose all this, Tinks...you know, the saying is, one is only as sick as his/her secrets. The Light comes flooding in, when the dark pain is cast out!

Keep up the good work..
Loveyou, Rhonda
Reviewed by Carole Mathys 11/27/2006
It seems you had a interesting, if not perilous childhood...brothers can sometimes be such bullies. Great job writing Tinka...
love and peace, Carole
Reviewed by Felix Perry 11/26/2006
Agree with Victor, it is interesting and your story in your words is truly a good job...so far.

Fee
Reviewed by Victor Buhagiar 11/25/2006
I found the story quite intriguing and can understand how hard a life you must have had. Victor
Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge 11/25/2006
My goodness, your brother's sound like the boys from hell! Glad I only had one and he was 10 years younger. Question? However did you learn to put any trust in men?
Keep on writing Tinka, pour it all out!God Bless, your adoring fan, Holly




Letting Go: An Ordinary Woman's Extraordinary Journey of Healing & Tra by Nancy Kaiser

Follow the author's struggle to learn from and let go of the devastating feelings of betrayal, grief, anger, fear, and loneliness that engulf her when her husband of 27 years leave..  
Featured BookAds by Silver
Gold and Platinum Members


Give Me Back My Credit! (audio version) by Denise Richardson

"A modern day David vs. Goliath tale, in which one woman went head to head against corporate America to fight not only for her own rights, but for the rights of all those who would..  
Featured BookAds by Silver
Gold and Platinum Members

Authors alphabetically: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Featured Authors | New to AuthorsDen? | Add AuthorsDen to your Site
Share AD with your friends | Need Help? | About us


Problem with this page?   Report it to AuthorsDen
© AuthorsDen, Inc. All rights reserved.