“That they were almost kidnapped by werewolves?” asked my smart alec Uncle Richie giggling in the background. I stuck my tongue at him. My mom ignored him.
“She called the police and is sending them over here when they are done talking to Anne Marie.”
“Oh my God!” My Nan gasped as she pulled me close.
I looked up at my mom and cried, “I told you! You never believe me!” My mom sighed.
Two cops showed up not too long after. One was tall, skinny, and kind of cute for being older. The other was a little chunky and looked like he had one donut too many. I had really made up some doozies to spice up our conversation by the time they arrived so when the nice police officer handed me a lollipop and sat with me on the plastic covered couch and asked me to tell him what happened, I was ready for him.
“Weelll…,” I drawled out my words after popping my sucker out of my mouth, “it happened like this. Me and Anne Marie stopped at the playground like we always do. Anne Marie is my cousin. Actually, I think we stopped at my great-grandmom and grandpop’s first. She always gives us pizelles. You ever have them? They are sooo yummy and…”
The officer taking notes jabbed his partner with his small white pad, which prompted the one sitting next to me to ask, "Tell me what happened when you left the playground.”
“Oh, well, Anne Marie wanted to leave because she said the spaceship made her sick because it spun so fast when it took off...”
“Spaceship?” the pudgy cop laughed. I scowled at him and said with another big slurp of my lollipop,
“Didn’t your momma tell you it’s really impolite to innerrupt?”
The cop beside me cleared his voice and smiled at his friend. “What’s your name anyway?”
The cop, who wasn’t finding this so funny just glared at me so the nice cop beside me said, “I’m Officer Paul and that’s Officer Jack.”
“Well you really need to teach Officer Jack some manners,” I huffed.
Officer Paul winked at me, “I’ll try. Can you please tell us more about the spaceship? Is that a ride at the playground?”
Richie, who was eavesdropping again, popped out from the family room and said, “She’s talking about the merry-go-round.” I acted like I didn’t hear him. He might be 16, but he acted like he was 10!
“Anyway,” I continued, “she really is a sissy about spinny stuff. She needs to toughen up, if you know what I mean.”
The good cop grinned, “I think I do.”
“We had just come out of Universe Playtown when these two aliens from Nowhere Land, on the other side of Jupiter, pulled up in their broken down spaceship…”
Richie burst out laughing, “I thought they were werewolves.”
(to be continued)
Showing posts with label playgrounds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label playgrounds. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Attempted Kidnapping (Part 1)
One day while walking home from school with Anne Marie, we had an unusual and frightening encounter. We took our regular route home, making a pit stop at my great-grandparents’ house for snacks, and then hung out at the playground that sat conveniently half way between school and home.
After we finished swinging, sliding, and releasing the general stuffiness that accompanies a day trapped in a classroom listening to people talk at you, we picked up our school bags and walked towards the exit. No sooner had we reached the street did a banged up gray car pull up in front of us. Two young men with long dark hair and even darker eyes sat inside of it. The passenger rolled down his window while Anne Marie and I stood cautiously but curiously watching. He held up a little brown puppy for us to see and was asking us if we wanted to pet it.
I could feel and hear my radar (a sound much like an inner alarm) start bleeping in my head. I stood frozen in place, but, when Anne Marie began to walk towards the car, I sprang into action. I leaped from my spot, grabbed her hand, and drug her in the opposite direction the car was facing. As we raced off, I chided to her about the class we just had on talking to strangers in between screams for help.
We ran to the closest house banging on its door frantically, but no one answered. Looking over my shoulder, I realized the car had sped off. We quickly walked the other half block to Anne Marie’s, and then I cut through some back yards and front yards to my house.
Bursting through the front door, dropping my bag on the floor, I breathlessly blurted out, “Me and Anne Marie were almost kidnapped!” to which my mom promptly rolled her eyes. Now, understand, I was the “queen of tall tales” as my Nan would so fondly tell me. I had told whoppers about pretty much everything and, of course, there were true things that no adult could ever bring himself or herself to believe. It was all classified as my “vivid imagination," whether it was or not.
“No, really it’s true this time,” I shouted.
“What’s true?” my Nan asked from the staircase.
“Me and Anne Marie were almost kidnapped by these two werewolves driving in a silver bullet. They were about to eat a puppy, and they wanted us…” The phone interrupted me.
Okay so I exaggerated. Fiction was always much more interesting than the truth. You had to juice it up a bit, and I was good at it. What was the big deal anyway? Adults did it all the time. They made up pretty lies of how much they loved you and then would hurt and betray you in the worst ways possible. Believe me, I knew. I had learned a lot in my 7 years on this earth.
My mom hung up the phone and, speaking more to my grandmother then me, she said, “That was Anne. It seems Anne Marie came home saying the same thing.”
(to be continued)
After we finished swinging, sliding, and releasing the general stuffiness that accompanies a day trapped in a classroom listening to people talk at you, we picked up our school bags and walked towards the exit. No sooner had we reached the street did a banged up gray car pull up in front of us. Two young men with long dark hair and even darker eyes sat inside of it. The passenger rolled down his window while Anne Marie and I stood cautiously but curiously watching. He held up a little brown puppy for us to see and was asking us if we wanted to pet it.
I could feel and hear my radar (a sound much like an inner alarm) start bleeping in my head. I stood frozen in place, but, when Anne Marie began to walk towards the car, I sprang into action. I leaped from my spot, grabbed her hand, and drug her in the opposite direction the car was facing. As we raced off, I chided to her about the class we just had on talking to strangers in between screams for help.
We ran to the closest house banging on its door frantically, but no one answered. Looking over my shoulder, I realized the car had sped off. We quickly walked the other half block to Anne Marie’s, and then I cut through some back yards and front yards to my house.
Bursting through the front door, dropping my bag on the floor, I breathlessly blurted out, “Me and Anne Marie were almost kidnapped!” to which my mom promptly rolled her eyes. Now, understand, I was the “queen of tall tales” as my Nan would so fondly tell me. I had told whoppers about pretty much everything and, of course, there were true things that no adult could ever bring himself or herself to believe. It was all classified as my “vivid imagination," whether it was or not.
“No, really it’s true this time,” I shouted.
“What’s true?” my Nan asked from the staircase.
“Me and Anne Marie were almost kidnapped by these two werewolves driving in a silver bullet. They were about to eat a puppy, and they wanted us…” The phone interrupted me.
Okay so I exaggerated. Fiction was always much more interesting than the truth. You had to juice it up a bit, and I was good at it. What was the big deal anyway? Adults did it all the time. They made up pretty lies of how much they loved you and then would hurt and betray you in the worst ways possible. Believe me, I knew. I had learned a lot in my 7 years on this earth.
My mom hung up the phone and, speaking more to my grandmother then me, she said, “That was Anne. It seems Anne Marie came home saying the same thing.”
(to be continued)
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