A childhood belief about the pledge

The words as I understood them went something like:

Attach a lesion to the flag, of the United States of America,
into the Republic, where witches stand,
one nation, underground, and invisible, with liberty—and just this!—for all.

Each time I visited with friends and family for a year or so following my mastery of these enigmatic lyrics I was required, by my mother, to make a solo performance for everyone’s enjoyment.

Inevitably, once I took my place in front of my audience, someone from the crowd would cry out, in a shouting whisper, “Your right hand, Ricky! Other side! There you go!” at which point I would locate my heart, cover it as required by my teacher and this disturbing song, and proceed with my rendering of it.

I must say that every recital received applause and laudations from its spectators. Either I delivered it with such passion and fluidity that no one paid attention to the words I uttered, or they themselves didn’t know the true words and thus thought nothing of my odd rendition of them, or it was simply a wonderful joke amongst the grown-folks to watch little Ricky’s brow furrow at the speculation of where in our town the Republic might lie and just how many witches could be found there loitering about, preying upon young schoolboys. I suspect the latter of these possibilities to be the most likely.