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.