I knew in my heart that I had to do something to help my younger brother when he said "oooh my belly hurts so bad." I became his immediate advisor " just tell them that your belly hurts too much for you to keep running to the store. I will go for you, OK?"
After he told our big sister what I told him to say, she asked him who told him to say that and he told her it was me. She called me "Dorreth!" (My sister's voice sounded incredulous as she screeched) "I believe only that conniving little devil could have told you to make up that story."
Keep in mind that our sister was around the age of 20 and we were just her little slaves. After all there was no mother around to care for us and we were around the tender age between 7 and 9. I must have been 8 and he 7.
When ever they left us home for the day we were completely on our own. Without food or supervision. I remember stealing tiny sips of Vick's formula 44 cough syrup (wetting our tongue), just to hold back the burn of hunger in our stomachs.
We both did it. I fear that one of us did more than sip the sweet medicine and I got the beating for it, when my sister returned home.
I sometimes fainted during the beatings.
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