When I last left you in Part 1, I introduced you to my “jokester” uncles and the events and tormenting that led up to this final event. Brace yourself.
Edit: Streamian somehow lost my post in the ether, so I had to manually upload it from a saved file. If a duplicate pops up, you know why! - Nick
Michael had quite a collection of old matchbox cars that he had no problem with allowing us kids to play with. They were scratched and grazed, but the cars were so cool. They were pick-up trucks, and old American muscle cars. That day, my cousin Thomas was destined to have mental wounds of his own to heal. Let it be known that Michael and Damien didn’t limit their torment to only me.
My nan’s courtyard had a swimming pool with a complimentary pebble-crete border where we would often play. It was really just a fancy pool edging wide enough to set up some army men or sit on while floating some boats or playing with toy cars. That day, Michael had brought the cars out for us to play with. He encouraged us to enjoy the weather and play by the pool. This wasn’t new to us so we obliged and made our way outside.
In hindsight, Michael and Damien were really shooting fish in a barrel here. I was only about seven or eight years old and Thomas was two years younger. We had settled into play and were enjoying our time together. Then the unthinkable happened.
A booming erupted from somewhere. A disembodied voice beat down at us like hail stones from the sky.
“Nicholas! Thomas! This is DARTH VADER!”
We immediately looked at each other, eyes wide. My worst fears were confirmed. Darth Vader is real. Despite my gullibility there was about one percent of my mind that knew it was all made up. That one percent evaporated as soon as those words rang out.
The playing had stopped and we were concerned for our lives.
As if watching, Vader addressed our actions,
“Don’t run. It won’t save you! If you approach the house, I’ve told Little Jimmy to keep watch. He is patrolling the gutters and will stop you in your tracks.”
Both of us were absolutely panic stricken by this point and I think I was on the verge of shock or hyperventilation. We could see into the kitchen from within the pool fence and in there was everybody we had seen earlier today – mums and dads, nan – and both Michael and Damien!
We scrambled for the pool fence. My fingers fumbled over the top of the magnetic pop-latch. It seemed to take forever to try to lift it. The whole time my mind was racing. The voice, that roared from the roof, had continued to taunt us, mocking us in sadistic delight. I saw nothing. There was nothing to see. The words alone in my ears painted everything Michael and Damien had intended for us to experience.. Little Jimmy scuttling about the rooftop, clinging to the guttering with sharp claws and obscured by foliage or the roof itself and Darth Vader’s flowing black cape and menacing faceless form.
To say I was scared witless is an understatement.
We finally lifted the latch and bolted to the house. Despite the warnings of Little Jimmy meeting us as we reached the gutter, our minds knew that getting to our parents was the only hope we had of survival. It would have been just twenty metres from the pool fence to the door, but it all happened in slow motion. My mind recalls every frame of footage that I’ll retain in my memory til the day I die. We arrived.
The glass door that separated us from safety was locked.
And on the other side were all of our parents and family members. I don’t recall seeing my mother, but I do remember seeing my Aunty Janet, who’s son is also named Michael. She was in hysterics and so was my Pa.
We beat the door with our closed fists. Eyes filled with tears and faces white with fear. Our motion was so frantic that the tears flung from our cheeks and onto the glass, smearing the visibility of those who should be trying to save us. It was the most horrifying thing to experience – the betrayal of my own family, somehow convinced or brainwashed by the Dark Lord, himself.
The entire resolution of this event is completely lost on me. I don’t know at what point they let us in or how they fully explained it all to us. Maybe it was years later as an early teen. I just don’t know.
You could argue that the greatest damage done to us was through the torment leading up to “The day Darth Vader Almost Killed Me”. However, without the use of a dual-cassette tape recorder much like the one shown below, the whole thing couldn’t have been pulled off.
Damien and Michael had spent time prior to that day recording everything that Vader would say onto a tape. They were able to mask the sound of their own voice by mimicking the voice of Vader, himself. It didn’t need to be an Academy Award-winning performance. We were children, after all. They had left enough dead air time at the start of the recording for them to ‘set and forget’. They would simply just need to press play.
My nan’s house was double storey and Damien, who was still living there, had a room that overlooked the courtyard. He positioned the tape deck on the ledge of the window. This is why the voice boomed over the roof. My uncles had anticipated all moves and timing for the recording to account for our reactions. Darth was all seeing and there was nothing we could do about it.
It was the most diabolical prank I have had the experience of being a victim of. And considering my own mental health was at stake, as an adult now I can’t help but wonder if I would have been a different person without the influences of such tormenting uncles.
Something inside me allowed me to overcome that experience. I’m going to attribute the power of the Light Side of the Force to have protected me that day and prevent two grown-up idiots from destroying my adult relationship with the world of Star Wars. Thank you George Lucas.
Thanks for nothing Damien and Michael.
All the best,
Nick.
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