Tang eats it (1992)

Tired of listening to us squabble over who got to hold the cats, Mama pulled into a turn out and locked both Ting and Tang in the sky-blue fifteen foot Shasta trailer attached to our yellow station wagon.

“I’m soooo sorry I let you kids talk me into bringing those D-A-M-N cats,” she growled while adjusting herself behind the steering wheel. “Next camping trip we’ll bring the dog.”

“We don’t have a dog,” my older brother reminds her from the depths of the way-back seat.

“We’ll get one!” she answered through clenched teeth. She glared at him in the rear view mirror as she pulls out.

The trailer lags for a second like a balky colt and then lunches forward with a lurch.  Instantly the back window starts to chirp and dribble rain water down on older brothers head.

“Quit touchin’ me.” I whine at younger brother one.

He puts his hand in front of my face. “You’re not using this space.”

“Qwitit! I warn him, and then whap him with my piece of driftwood.

My older and self-proclaimed wiser sister began belting out fake hand farts to the tune of Happy Birthday.

Our combined noise awakens baby brotherfour, who joins in by getting car sick.

I’m busy giving brother two an Indian burn when I feel the car sway violently. Brother three, who is sleeping next to me, tumbles to the floor. Mama’s hands slap the steering wheel as she tries to keep us on the road.

Outside the window I watch images flick past as we twist about the road. For a second the trailer is alongside of us and I catch sight of the widest cat eyes I have ever seen peering out from under the polka dotted pink curtains. Just as like in crack-the-whip, the trailer careens back on one wheel to where it belongs, only to fall over on its side. Sounding like a giant raspy metal skate wheel, the trailer skids along behind until the heavy safety chains pop. The car jerks forward an stops.

We pour out like ants after a jelly donut.

“Stay on the edge of the highway!” Mama warns us, “Oncoming traffic won’t be able to see around the trailer!”

We line up and stare at the twisted metal and broken glass not knowing what to say. The trailer lays on its right side with one wheel spinning. I looks like a giant over turned beetle.

“Do you reckon the cats are okay?” brotherthree asks while chewing on his shirt collar.

“Flat as pancakes.” Says older sister

I sit down and start bawling.

About then mama and two fish and Game men, who stopped to help came over to where we are.

“Their dead!” I wail.

The taller man turns to me. “Is there someone in there?!”

“YES!” we all answer in unison.

Before Mama can open her mouth to explain WHO is in there, the men hoist the trailer back up onto its two wheels. The metal squeals in agony as the trailer bobs back and forth.

“CATS!” Mama shout grabbing the tall ones arm, “Our two cats are in there – no people.”

They shoot murderous glances at us while they catch their breath.

Older brother peels back the outer door like the lid to a sardine can. The screen door swings out on its bent hinges like a swooning lady. Spread eagle on the screen is Ting, looking very much like a squashed bug on a windshield. Some of his whiskers point North, others South and a few are bent in right angles. He lets loose a pitiful meow.

The man with the beard laughs as he peels Ting loose “I bet your glad that ride is over!”

We crowd around the door to look for Tang. I can see the cupboard door dangling like a guillotine ready to plunge. There are sleeping bags, pillows and cloths everywhere, but no Tang.

Older sister ventures in and moves an armful of debris off the floor. Half buried in the contents of the refrigerator is Tang. Shards of white fibrous tissue protrude from his mouth. His right ear is matted down with a thick coating of syrup that drips slowly down his whiskers.

We all start screaming at the same time.

“He’s eating all the crab!!!”

Older sister scoops him up. There is one tiny shrimp on each of his claws. That’s out Tang!

Mama struggles to stop laughing. “OH am I sorry I let you kids talk me into brining those damn C-A-T-S!”

This is mostly true. Just  little bit tweaked by adding Mama’s dialogue to frame the story.  It was a very frightening event that happened on the way from camping at the coast. The trailer was towed back to Bandon , where a shop punched holes in the metal and laced it up where it had split.  We drove behind it watching and laughing as one of the brothers stuffed animals, jiggled loose and fell 1/2 out the crack in the seam. It was a big blue shark and the sight of its tail wagging in the breeze lightened the serious mood.

The scary part? The part I still don’t like to think about. Where this happed ….on that stretch of road…that was the ONLY part of it with a turn out. Had it happened any other spot we would have plunged off the cliff.

Oh yes, thank you soooo much anxiety….and those who made both our roads to the coast on freaking cliff sides.

I was young when this happened, in 1972, I was six.. Young enough to still fall victim to magical thinking. I had a small witch doll. She has beautiful with purple skin and shiny lime green hair, if you put in a battery her eyes flickered!  I loved her so much. One of my religious friends had told me she was cursed and I shouldn’t have her…as in I needed to burn her or something, because she was so evil.  I spent the rest of that trip with her tightly in my hands, watching her, convinced the accident happened because I had brought her along. That all this was my fault. It ruined my love of this unique doll in the black mini skirt and go-go boots.

My gawd I love the internet. Googled "Witch doll with flickering eyes." and she came right up.  Emerald the enchanting witch doll 1972.