• On the Dirt Path


    He pouted and scowled up at the overlapping tree branches. This was so not fair.

    With little hands clenched into fists by his sides, the boy, not yet five, walked with resentment that could match even the most jealous of men. His small feet scuffled across the sandy path, making a pit-pattering sound; occasionally interrupted with a clack-clack- clattering that occurred whenever he kicked a pebble or two. Chubby arms, still laden with baby fat, crossed over a defiant chest. Little brown eyes constantly darted around, focusing on the dust that the stubby little feet kicked up, before shifting upwards to the tree branches that reached out to and touched each other from opposite sides of the dirt path. Every now and then, his gaze would drift over to the object of his annoyance-his mother, a tall formidable woman with a kind face. Why did she have to drag him away with her to market while he was having so much fun? It all happened so quickly…

    “Ha-ha-ha!” the boy giggled as he threw a stick away from the dog beside him, a shaggy mongrel thing. “Fetch, Biki!”

    Biki leapt up into the air and easily caught the stick in his jaws before trotting back to the excited child, holding his head up high. The little boy giggled and patted the matted fur. “Good boy, Biki!”

    “Come on little one, it’s time to go to market!” a voice called. He turned around to see his mother, holding a large woven basket full of who-knows-what on her head with one hand; while the other was making a “come here” motion, beckoning him to her.

    “Why do I have to come?” whined the boy.

    “Because, there is no one here to watch you!” replied the mother.

    “But-“

    “No buts!” the mother snapped, cutting him off.

    And that was that. There was no room left to argue, as the mother had just grabbed his hand and began walking, leaving no chance for him to continue playing with Biki.

    The boy grumbled. He was a big boy now, his mom had said so herself! He could look after himself! Now she was babying him like he couldn’t even walk! Moms are stupid, he decided; always saying one thing, then deciding the complete opposite.

    Well…if he had to prove he was big enough to stay home and play with Biki all by himself, then he would do it! He ducked quickly behind the soft curtains of Spanish moss that draped down from the tree branches like thin transparent veils. Now, by staying behind the moss-and away from his mother-he could prove that he was definitely big enough to be alone.

    Looking up at the tree branches, he spied at one end a monkey and her baby. The monkey mother made an effort to pick fleas and ticks from her baby’s fur; but the little one was not cooperating, and it eventually dashed away from its mother to the opposite side of the tree branch. The little boy grinned at the little monkey, silently cheering it on. “Show them that we don’t need mommies,” he muttered.

    The wide grin changed into a mouth open wide with fear a moment later; as he saw a large bird go after the baby monkey, its razor-sharp talons ready to snatch up the baby in one quick swoop. The baby saw and began running back across the tree branch; desperate to escape its hungry pursuer.

    Just when it looked like it was all over for the babe, a loud flurry of screeching and squawking was heard; and the bird flew away, deprived of its easy meal. The baby’s mother stood over it; her furry paws stained a crimson red, a feral snarl etched on her face. The baby then climbed back up into its mother’s lap and settled in, content to let its mother pick bugs out of its fur with her bloody paws.

    The boy was surprised at what he had just seen. There were things that even people like him couldn’t face alone, that it was best to face them with a mother by their side…

    Suddenly, the calm forest seemed a lot more menacing. Eyes were peeking at him from between branches, yellow with slits for pupils. The roots of trees were crawling across the road, reaching for him. A growl of some bloodthirsty animal could be heard from between the leaves and brush.

    The forest wanted to eat him.

    And the moss, once so thin and frail, became thick and rough. Poisonous bugs and snakes were hiding inside its many folds, crawling and slithering out, ready to bite him. The moss had been his protector when he wanted to run away. Now it kept him from coming back.

    What should he do? Should he keep trudging alone, prove his strength, and possibly get himself killed? Or should he break through his own barrier, admit defeat, and fall back into his loving mother’s embrace?

    Another roar from the forest’s depths cemented his decision.

    As fast as his stubby limbs could carry him, the boy dashed through the green wall just as the baby monkey had scampered across the tree branch. He rammed into his mother with enough force to unsteady herself slightly and latched his short arms around as much of her as he could grab (which was her leg).

    Looking up at her with his eyes begging forgiveness, he shut them quickly as he felt her hand coming down towards him. He opened them again to find that she was ruffling his hair, smiling down at him.

    As she wrapped her spare arm around him and continued down the dirt path, he made his decision. Moms aren’t stupid, he thought.

    They’re actually pretty great.

    ~End~