Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Tracy Martin Telling Fish Stories Again - or...chicken??

Sybrina must have caused a Tsunami blinking at Tracy's latest version of how young Trayvon saved his life when TM was 8 9.  You know the one, where Tracy and Trayvon came home from a day at the ball field, Tracy put grease on to cook some chicken fish for Trayvon.  Tracy fell asleep on the bed next to Trayvon on the couch.  He woke a while later to smoke flames licking the bottom of the doorway due to his having left the grease for the chicken fish on the stove while he fell asleep.  Tracy grabbed a beach towel off the counter blanket off the bed and threw it over the pot which led to hot oil oil and flames spilling over his legs.  You get the idea, his story changed again, this time he just started the hell over.

a little guy walking next to a big man. They cross the field and cut through the security gate into a very nice apartment complex — over here on the west side of town, where the parks have landscaped lakes and clubhouses like Greek temples, life is good. Tracy fills a pot with enough grease to deep-fry some fish and Trayvon goes into his room to collapse on the bed. That boy pushes himself so hard. Tracy's had to carry him off the field like a baby. Then Tracy sits down on the sofa and dozes off, too.
The smell of smoke wakes him. He runs into the kitchen and the pot is writhing in flames, sending up black oily smoke that floods the ceiling and curls under the doors. Tracy runs into his bedroom and grabs a blanket and runs back to the kitchen and throws it on the fire, but he throws wrong and it catches on the pot and tips the burning mess forward. Flaming grease splashes all over his legs. He falls to the floor screaming, and Trayvon, just nine years old, runs out and drags his screaming father out the apartment door. Then he runs back through the flames and the smoke to get a cell phone and calls 911.
Remember, this is how it used to be told - watch poor Brina blink.