Children in the Thicket
(True Story)
By: Tiffoney GREENE
I saved two children from uncertainty. The clouds looked like the hands of God (or something else) were going to reach down and grab one of them. It all started as an ordinary day, with the same boring daily routine of housework and about a million things to do on ‘The Mommy Do list.” The smell of fresh brewing coffee infuses the air as hazelnut drifts from room to room. Sweat drips down my back as I fold laundry and finish up our housework for today.
Stopping for a break, I sat outside smoking a cigarette, while critiquing last minute changes to a story I was writing.
Suddenly, I heard, “Hey, Miss Tiffany,” as I looked up from my writing, to see four of our neighborhood boys walking at the edge of the field in front of my house. The oldest boy, Josh, was smiling with his olive colored complexion and pearly white teeth. He is a handsome fifteen year old, extremely polite and well rounded Youngman; who’s very good friends with my oldest son.
I called back, “Hey, shug,” as they were now entering the woods. Another idea popped into my mind for the conclusion for the story, so I began reword and go over what I had written thus far.
Not really paying attention at the time, when I look-up and noticed a really bad cloud forming in the distance. This cloud was cold, dark and very intimidating. Josh’s grandmother pulls-up at the edge of the field in her white mini van and starts to call out for her grandson, “Josh……Josh…..There’s a storm coming…..Josh!”
There was no answer from the boys or her grandson. She calls out again, “Josh!” as her voice echoed down through the field. Still nobody answers her. The wind started to gust and I could see a wall of rain coming our way.
I yelled into our house, “Montana, run out there and tell Bug his grandma calling him, hurry, because there’s a storm coming!”
My son ran across the field, to the edge of the woods and started yelling into the woods; by this time, I couldn’t hear what Montana was saying because the wind started to blow harder and harder. He turned and looked at me, and screamed, “Mom, their not in the woods. Their in the thicket!” His voice was almost fizzled out by a wind gust. I could tell by his body language something was really wrong here.
I quickly put a jacket on and started running across the field to the thicket. Lighting cracked, thunder roared and the rain started blowing sideways. The closer I got to the thicket I could hear children crying. Their cries grew louder as I ran closer, while lightening streaked down from the sky and the hard cold rain saturated the ground. My new boots rubbed up and down on my calves and the wind blew my long red hair down from a pony-tail, while I ran to the thicket.
As I reached the thicket, Josh came out the left side of it, His pants were shredded from his waist down to his feet and blood trickled through his white tee shirt. With sounds of children crying in the background, I said, “Who’s in there?”
Josh nervously replied, “its Kale and Edmon!” as he bent down touching his knees and catching his breath.
“Mom, don’t go in there!” my son said, with a look of fear in his eyes and a quiver in his voice. “I’ve got to, honey, they need my help,” I said reassuring my boy, while I took out my pocket knife.
Montana said, “Mom, no” as I entered the thicket.
The thicket is walls and walls of flesh tearing briars; taller than most adults, in a ditch about six foot across and you can not see nothing while you’re in it. Raindrops felt like cold needles piercing my skin as I chopped away briars fallowing the cries of children. “I’m coming honey” I called out to who ever could hear me.
Everything was in happening in slow-motion and my heart was about to beat out of my chest.
I sank up to my knees in mud; franticly, I chopped away briars hoping to clear enough to get a visual on the boys. Briars slash at my face and clothing. Meanwhile, I could hear my son yelling, “Mom are you okay” and one of the boys crying, “Ouch, I need help!” as the rain fell down on us like a cold wet blanket. Fighting the thicket with all my might, while swinging my pocket knife and cutting the stalks. I entered into a small clearing and shouted, “Hold your hands up so I can see you!”
I held my own hands in the air and said, “Lord, Jesus, I need a little help here!”
Within minutes, the rain stops and the sun shines through the clouds. I chop my way to the youngest boy, who smiles at me with tears in his eyes and scratches on his arms. Relief came over his face as I pulled the briars away from his legs.
“Follow me,” I said picking up a big dead log and throwing it. The log knocked part of the thicket wall down and made a path to get out. As I step down; on the log,in-order to hold the wall down, my foot went through the log and I could feel squirming under my boot. I thought, “Lord, I am standing on a snake!” The youngest boy said, “Miss Tiffany, I can’t get through like this”
“Just walk up over me, honey, I’ll hold these briars down so yaw can get out.” I told them while pulling him up with one hand, holding briars back with my pocket knife; with the other hand, and pressing down all my weight on the snake slithering under my foot. One by one the boys climbed up over me to safety.
Once we were all out of the thicket, Josh, who had been standing back watching every thing, said “Thank You, Miss Tiff, I didn't think anyone was going to come out here to help us!”
After everything was over with, I told the boys to Never, Ever go back into that damn thicket again! We walked over to our home, where I cleaned their wounds before they got infected.
