“I’ve lost it thought Jimmy; I’ve lost it without ever finding it.”
The silence of the forest swelled in Jimmy’s head as he turned to go back to the meadow. A queer sadness overwhelmed him for adventures now lost, yet an inward and secret sigh of relief filtered softly over his lips. He starred at the thin rim of light at the forest edge and stepped forward into the direction of sweet familiarity. He had traveled no more than a few yards before he found himself on his knees with his hands over his ears trying to shield the high pitch shrill that suddenly arose from within the depths of the forest. Tears pooled in his frightened blue eyes and rolled down his cheek in fitful streams striking the damp moldy leaves of the forest floor. Ants and beetles scurried beneath the dead fauna giving the ground the illusion of movement. Small birds, which were just a few minutes before, perched in the treetops singing to their glory now lay dead below the very trees they once adorned. Then just as quickly as the screaming high pitch sound began, it ended. Jimmy fell face first and lay prostate on the ground. The smell of death and decay filled his senses and he felt as if he were going to be sick. He lay there afraid to move as the darkness began to close in on him. He knew if he was going to get out of here he needed to do so now while there was enough light left to see. Rising now with difficulty to his feet he looked into the direction of his beloved meadow only to discover to his horror that he no longer recognized his surroundings. Fear gripped his heart now like nothing ever had before. He began to cry openly and just wanted to go home, but where was home?
**** The darkening sky and the threat of an evening thunderstorm sent Samuel Johnson hurrying about the field collecting his tools. He had so hoped that he could have got the fence row up today and it made him a bit angry that his wife Emma had given in to Jimmy’s demands and let him go out to the meadow to play. “She coddles that boy too much” thought Sam as he tossed the rest of his equipment into the back of his Ford Ranger and drove slowly up the dirt road back to the home place. Driving roughshod and weaving like an old drunk over the washboard road gave Sam quite a workout as his rather large middle section tapped in double time with each heave and ho of the old truck. He was going to have to start saying no to Emma when she brings the pies in from the kitchen, but all that can wait until next week; she had baked his favorite pie tonight, “Blackberry”. He stuck his arm out the open window and felt the air begin to cool as the thunderheads grew larger and nearer. Sam figured within the next half hour or so it would be raining cats and dogs. Good thing he was almost home, he knew Jimmy would be on the front porch waiting so that they could all go in and have supper together.
Jimmy was trembling now as he set off in the direction of the faint red glow of what he thought was the setting sun….