Through My 8 Year Old Eyes: Planet Slotpot

By Debora Dockett

The story follows the life of Debora and her sister as they were suddenly, without warning, transplanted from their comfortable home and familiar surroundings to an unimaginably wretched place we will call Slotpot. Their lives were turned upside down from a comfortable home of six rooms to a two-room slave house the family shared with an elderly tightwad of an uncle. He made them burn a kerosene lamp so they wouldn't "make the light bill go up!" In winter, if they went into the kitchen, they had to dress full blastcoat, boots, the works. In the summer, every now and then, a snake would make its appearance crossing the spacey cross ties that was used to build the kitchen floor. If you think that was something, the people of "Slotpot" were unbelievable!

Everybodyand I do mean everybodychewed tobacco! The youngest Debora saw was three. Nevertheless, Slotpot would be called home for the next eight months, which seemed like a lifetime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514471777

Debora Dockett

Love of reading and writing is what has been a part of this writer's life. She gives credit to her mother for introducing her to and her older sister to nightly readings. Debora has begun creating and making up stories and poems even before she was able to put them in writing. As she grew, so did her love for reading and writing. She began to write complete manuscripts at the age of thirteen. By the age of fifteen, she had followers who would make excuses to come and "speak" to her in class so that they could be the first one to get their hands on the manuscripts. As time progressed, she read at weddings, elementary and middle schools, and churches. A student at the University of Pine Bluff, Arkansas, she took thirteen different literatures and, to this day, remains one of the best descriptive writers that has passed through the university.

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Copyright © 2016 by Debora Dockett.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/04/2016

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Debbie!!! Debora Ann!!! Get up!!! Let’s go!!!"

Two small clinched fists shot from under the blankets as I extended my body with a morning stretch and growl.

"I don’t wanna go to Sunday schoooooollllllllll uuuuuggghhh!!!

You’re not going to Sunday school, you’re going home with me!

Suddenly the stretch was over and I became fully awake. Quickly yanking the blanket from over my head, I sat up suddenly. Hair standing all over my head, and wiping my eyes to focus on what was going on, I looked over at my sister Sandra who was already mad with the situation.

Home?! Huh?! Moma, you said home?! We already at home?!

I couldn’t imagine life without cousins Ralph (I called him Wayne) and of course Edward, who I thought of them as my cousin-brothers. Me and my sister Sandra lived with my Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Chuck for about a year while my mother lived with her husband and his mother until she died. Now the time had come, and well….Slockpot, yes you read right….Slockpot…. here we come…….Unhappily, but here we come!!

Ick!!!

Ma-maaaa!!! I started to cry. "You said home!!! We already at home!!! Why you keep talkin’ ’bout goin’ home?!!

Girl, you’re going home with me to Slockpot!

Is Wayne & Edward going?

Wayne and Edward are already home!

I don’t wanna move to Slockpot! Why we have to go there?

My sister sit on the bed putting her shoes and socks on as slowly as she possibly could. She was 11 so you know she could move faster if she tried. Then, Moma flew through the room, carrying an armful of socks or something. Sandra! Sandra Kay! Would you hurry up? We need to let Mr. Billy hurry on back.

"I don’t want to go to no Slockpot! Can’t I stay here with Aunt Dorothy ‘nem?

No! Y’all are coming home with me! Now get dressed so we can go!

Sandra angrily flopped one of her socks opened and yanked it up. Meanwhile, I was still trying to make a case for bringing the cousins along.

"Maaaaaaamaaaaa!!!! Can’t Wayne and Edward come……

Ma….can they? Huh ma can they?

No, they can not!

Whhhyyy? Can’t they come for a little while? We can walk them piece-a-way back home.

My mama laughed at me and I cried harder. As she laughed, she stopped a minute, put down a box and turned me by the shoulders to look at her.

Look Debora Ann, Wayne and Edward is here with their family. You and Sandra Kay will be coming with us so that we can be a family, understand? Now get dressed so we can go.

Finally everything was packed and loaded into the ugly, old, gray panel truck. At first, it seems as if there would not be room enough for me but…blasted….they made a space.

Come on, Little Debbie! Mom coaxed.

My stepfather lifted me up and scooted me on top of a mattress. There you go! He said as he smiled with a wide toothy smile. He was so proud of the fact that we could be going with them.

I looked and listened as everybody walked past the truck. Some tweaked my nose, some tickled my neck and many were saying how much they were going to miss me. Now that hurt. My eyes were filled with tears that I refused to let drop. Edward, who was about 5 at the time, scrambled up to the window which was down. I could hear him breathing hard, then a final grunt when he finally got a grip on being situated.

Dep, y’all finna go?

I nodded my head.

Where y’all going?

Slockpot, I creaked out.

You finna cry?

No, I said as I wiped my eyes

I guess it made him uncomfortable because he scrambled down and ran back into the yard. You could see he had fallen as he scrabbled from the van because of big fresh patch of dirt was on his jeans. The other cousin was standing on the porch just looking. He was never one to mix words (even to this day).

When Mr. Billy and my step dad slammed the heavy empty sounding doors, I felt like jail doors slammed and I was locked in. I heard sounds of, Be good, We’re going to miss y’all’, Be good girls!, Act Right, Be nice, We’ll be seeing y’all". As the