My grandmother taught me… don’t doubt children who see things.
There was the stump of an apple tree in my grandparents’ backyard that was quite old and soft in the center. My brother and I -sometimes our cousins when they were visiting as well- would use it as a table or as a ersatz trampoline or a place to put our feet and count off who was It with rounds and rounds of King Sayer. In my mind, the stump was roughly the diameter of a redwood, knowing that it wasn’t in actuality any bigger than a large pizza. It had as many uses as we had ideas to task it with, then I got the idea to pick away the rotting center to make a fishbowl.
And that’s when things got scary.
As I was removing wood chips from the stump and tossing them to the ground, I uncovered part of something that -from what I could tell- looked like a toy bee, like the center spinner on a See n’ Say. I remember thinking, “How did a toy get in here? And who could have done it? Did they know I would find it? Is it for me? Oh, boy!” I started to sweep away the debris to get to the toy, but when I touched it -as plasticy shiny as it was, it was warm to my touch. And then it stirred and began to hum, buzzing like a real bee, but too large and too not natural. I waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaailed in that high-pitched screech that terrified five-year-old boys will later deny they can do when they turn seven. And ran in the house to my Grandma, who was struggling to get up from her place on the white living room couch. I threw my arms around Grandma’s waist and we toppled back to the couch. I blubbered out my story as best I could, but it was no more coherent than, “Something… *sniff* in the stump… it… it.. it BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
My Grandma put her hands on my head and called out, “Mike! Michael!” My Grandpa came from upstairs. “Mike, get rid of that stump in the yard. Now!” He didn’t ask why or what I was crying about or anything. Grandma was in earnest He went down to his basement, got his axe, and destroyed the stump. I could see him chopping out the back from my Grandma’s lap. She had no reason to accept what I had said, had tried to say, but she did. She took action because she believed I was telling the truth and because she loved me. There’s really nothing in the world that matters so much to a child.
Discuss...
