Warning, Warning, Danger Will Robinson
Sensitive material, graphic in nature
It amazes me that Steve can take something so horrible and transition into other things that are so relative to his survival of such nightmares. Steve grows and seems to gain strength in every piece. I wish i had written my story with some of the wisdom Steve imparts in his. We look forward to reading his book one day. as with all our stories, it is hard to say how good it is given the subject matter. Thanks again Steve.
Thunder Storms Steve Easton
My dad used to come into my bedroom at night and make me suck his penis – he’d cuddle me and play with my penis first but ultimately he would orally rape me. I don’t remember this clearly but I have flashes of memory going back to early childhood; like black and white film stills. Ok I’m over it, I sleep ok today though I’ve recently been monitoring my sleep with a gadget called My Zeno Mobile (I fully admit being a gadget addict); interestingly I get plenty of REM sleep but very little deep sleep and wake a lot in my nice quite comfortable Bedroom so maybe deep down somewhere I still think my dad might visit me in the night.
I sleep well in tents – when we fostered teenage mums and babies I moved into a tent in the garden to escape the babies crying and the groaning of the teenager getting up to feed her. I spent the best part of a year out there and only remember being woken up twice in all that time. One night I heard a strange scraping noise going round and round the tent, a scary sort of sound when you’re fast asleep. I shot out of my sleeping bag grabbed my flash light and, stark naked, ran round the tent trying to find what was making the noise: it turned out to be a hedgehog, thankfully teenagers are not prone to midnight wandering. Then one autumn night an owl started hooting. It went on and on. Now I like owls but I like my sleep so I went out and shooed it away. An hour later it was back hooting like mad; I shooed it away: 20 minutes later it was back, I climbed out of my sleeping bag and waved it away again … this went on till dawn. Mind you it was a beautiful owl and I consider myself lucky to live with a garden full of wildlife.
I sleep well on planes though this can cause problems. On a long flight into Adelaide (Australia) on the last leg I had a row of seats to myself so I lifted the arm rests and climbed into my sleeping bag and feel asleep. Now bear in mind that I was flying with Garuda which has one of the worlds worst safety record among national carriers. The next thing I knew was we hit the runway hard and I rolled off the seats and got jammed in the space between my seat and the seats in front and had to be pulled out by the cabin crew who though it was really funny.
I sleep well on trains. In fact I love trains and have travelled on them all over the world. Travelling north from San Francisco to Eugene, I slept well in my seat and woke up in a snow storm in the Cascades. Crossing Canada from Halifax, via Toronto, to Vancouver, 5 great nights sleep in a gorgeous 1955 stainless steel train in my own couchette. (Sadly this train no longer runs all the way). The Ghan from Adelaide to Alice Spring with a wood lined bedroom and a piano bar: again another good nights sleep. The train from Bangkok to Singapore was less comfortable and a bit noisy as sleeping arrangements consisted of tiers of bunks 3 high on each side of the carriage and there was a group of Malayan gymnasts, on their way to a competition, who practiced all day and night in the aisle: I still slept ok. More recently on the train from Amritsar to Delhi (which had been blown up a few times) traveling with my 14 year old daughter, my wife and her wheel chair, I still slept well: though traveling in the upper birth on the “Super Fast” train, between Agra (where we’d been to visit the Taj Mahal) and Mumbai, which shook so much that I had to say awake and hold on so I didn’t fly off the bunk.
I sleep well in hotels even when watching rats run across the beams over my head in a “hotel” made out of bamboo on the border between Thai, Laos and Burma in the Golden Triangle. Though I was somewhat disturbed when in a rather nice (well nice for $2 a night) Indian hotel in the middle of the night I found the owner searching under my bed at 3am. He explained he needed his shoes! Then in Massawa (Eritrea), a small bomb damaged town on the Red Sea, I slept well in a cockroach infested room following visiting Haile Selassie’s bombed out winter palace and eating the best fish supper in the world surrounded by stray cats. In fact I discovered cockroaches have beautiful colored shells all luminescent greens and blues.
Best of all for a good nights sleep is a thunder storm, in my bedroom, in a hotel even in a tent, a thunderstorm guarantees a good nights sleep. The downside is I like watching thunderstorms and apparently missed some beauties. Once camping on Dartmoor (a high moor in the English County of Devon) I slept through what my wife said was the most amazing storm she’d seem. Even with the tent door wide open I snored all the way through it: she didn’t take kindly to me complaining that she hadn’t woken me.
In my own bed I’m ok if I have my teddy, Roosevelt (bought for me by my wife and daughter because I never had one as a child) and if things get bad in my head I also have an imaginary dragon, Teasel, who protects me from my dad. He doesn’t burn him to death but just scares him enough to make him stay away. Or I switch on the thunderstorm app on my iPhone though it doesn’t work that well because I can’t turn it up very load as my family don’t seem to have may ability to sleep through thunderstorms.