In My Defense
There are some things for which siblings will not forgive each other. Years may pass. This incident happened more that 50 years ago. My sister has not forgiven me. She clearly remembers me telling her to pick up the scorpion by its tail.
She was one of those fearless, daring children who would try most things, come what might. I remember her standing on the roof of the storm cellar, hovering over the small arachnid, her hand inching toward it.
My logic was: it has pinchers. Crawdads have pinchers. I warned, "Pick it up by the tail."
My sister's memory surely includes the fact that I was two years older, that I must have been more knowledgeable than she. Therein lies the problem. I only knew pinchers!
Ah, the blood-curdling screams. A maelstrom of people appeared: Mom, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. My grandmother spit tobacco juice on my sister's tiny, swollen fingers. This is the same grandmother whose first-aid techniques included strapping a slab of raw bacon to my cut knee, cut when I slid into third base which was represented by a tin can.
I don't remember getting into a lot of trouble for "telling" my sister to pick up the scorpion. I just said that I didn't know. In fact, I remember some laughter when my sister wailed that I told her to pick it up by the tail. After all, these were the same people who laughed when I returned with the tomatoes but swore that there had been no potatoes on the potato plants, the same people who chortled that time I rushed in and yelled that a rooster was trying to kill one of the hens.
Many people report that they have no memories from the time when they were very young. My sister is not one of them.