Not Afraid of Life Read Online Free Page B

named her Piper Indi Grace, after the Piper plane my dad flies, the idea of “independence,” and the grace of God. Mom let me decide how to spell “Indi,” whether with a y or an i . I chose the i because it seemed like it’d be a lot more fun writing than the old boring y . Plus, I didn’t want people to think of the Indy 500, the big manly Polaris snowmachine that my dad sold at his shop.
    Mom’s friends gave her a baby shower at the Grouse Ridge Shooting Range because they knew Mom loved the Second Amendment and because they’d shot clay pigeons at the range when Mom was pregnant. Since she was the mayor, it was a big baby shower. The theme, of course, centered around airplanes. The cake was in the shape of a Piper plane, and there were blankets with Pipers on them. I loved being there with Mom, celebrating my new sister’s arrival. I also loved that there were three babies under the age of three months there. My uncle’s wife had a baby at the end of December, my aunt Molly had a baby at the end of January, and Mom had Piper in the middle of March. I was in heaven!
    Though I loved taking care of younger siblings and cousins, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t hang with the boys. I went to Iditarod Elementary School, and I took swimming lessons, ran track and cross-country, and played soccer. I could run so fast I could beat the boys in our mile run in P.E. class! Plus, I was proud of myself for being elected treasurer of our school, though I don’t remember ever handling real money. I also played trumpet in fifth grade, though I was not good! I only chose the trumpet because it had three buttons, but I still complained about having to practice. Mom and Dad would not let me quit, though. I signed up for it, and had to deal with the consequences.
    I was always so close to Aunt Molly that she told me about both of her next pregnancies before she told the rest of the family . . . much to my mother’s chagrin! But her husband, my uncle Mike, was no prize.
    Though sometimes Uncle Mike was charming and fun, he was known around town for embellishing facts and telling outright lies. He was a big burly state trooper . . . six foot four and 250 pounds. He was very intimidating and always teased Payton by accusing him of being weak.
    I saw it firsthand. One day in 2003, my cousin Payton and I were sitting downstairs at their house with him, while Aunt Molly gave her daughter a bath upstairs. That day started out like any other day, but it would become a part of my consciousness, and—sadly—a part of the national political conversation years later when my mom ran for vice president. And the whole controversy started with this stupid question:
    “Hey, Payton, do you want to get shot with a Taser gun?”
    Yes, a state trooper—an adult—asked that question of a kid.
    I could tell Payton was unsure about it, but he didn’t want to be accused by his stepdad—for the millionth time—of being a “wuss.”
    “Okay,” he said, staring at the Taser gun that his stepdad pulled out of his holster. “I guess.”
    Uncle Mike prepped the Taser, and Payton started getting more and more nervous. He didn’t let on. I never really thought Uncle Mike would actually go through with it. Perhaps he was just testing him.
    But I was wrong. I was standing at the top of the stairs when Uncle Mike took the Taser and shot my cousin. Payton instantly fell back as intense signals were sent through his nervous system. His muscles constricted. In a bit, the pain lessened and he shook his head, as if to get rid of that feeling.
    As Payton was recovering, Uncle Mike looked at me and saw that I was crying.
    “Bristol, you’re next.”
    I was not about to let what I just saw happen to my cousin happen to me, even if he was an adult. Even if he was my uncle.
    “Aunt Molly! Uncle Mike just shot Payton with a Taser!”
    “No, he didn’t,” she said. It’s not that she didn’t think I was trustworthy; she just couldn’t imagine that