I'm 8 years old, we're living in the single wide trailer at the back of the trailer park, the trailer park we've lived in twice before. This time it's my mom, me and my brother. My dad has gone to work in Saudi Arabia, Riyadh to be exact. I remember seeing my mom sitting on their bed with an envelope in her hand, the envelope has red and blue diagonal stripes around the edges, and she is crying. She closes the door and I go outside to play with my brother.
My dad was gone for 9 months. I don't remember it being that long, but I was 8. I went to school, came home and played with my friends until dinner time. After dinner & dishes, we'd do homework. I don't remember watching much tv back then, just lots of playing outside or in the bedroom I shared with my younger brother. Cowboys and Indians, cops and robbers, early 80's version of Rock Band (we had a red leather ottoman that my brother and I'd use for our drum and we'd sing Elvira as loud as we could), riding our bikes, making forts, playing in the sprinkler (my mom was very overweight and didn't like taking us to the pool).
My uncle, my moms younger brother, had given me his skateboard. It was a small wooden board with squeaky wheels, it wobbled when I rode it but it had the kewlest red wheels! There weren't any graphics painted on the board or any stickers, just pale wood and rusty, squeaky trucks (the parts that the wheels screw to). I loved that skateboard, even carried it with me on my bike. While my dad was gone I busted my mouth open on that skateboard.
We lived at the very back of the trailer park and the park/community area/pool was at the front of the park. On our bikes it took us a couple of minutes, walking maybe 5 to get there. That day I'd been riding the skateboard on my knees all over the park. I'd gone up to the park area because there were sidewalks that went through the park, around the outside of the pool fence, around the parking lot and looped back to the park. It was the perfect place for speed! Unless you hit one of the gaps between the squares of sidewalk, which I did. I was on my knees speeding around the corner when I hit the gap and flew off face first into the next square of sidewalk.
My mom said she could hear my screaming. I had knocked out one of my front teeth (the left one next to the very front one) and the other tooth had gone through my bottom lip. I got up, dripping blood and started walking home, screaming and crying. My mom said it was awful because she could hear me, but she had no idea where I was. I remember seeing her come around the corner and I started running, spitting blood out as I ran. She said it was one of the scariest moments because I was covered in blood. I think my nose was bleeding too. I still have a scar on my bottom lip from that flip over.
That night my dad called. I heard my mom telling him what happened as I sat on the couch with a bag of ice on my mouth. He made a joke about me spitting like the camels. Thats what I remember about the time my dad was working in Saudi Arabia, with the camels.
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