What My Mother Forgot

Blue Pick-Up Truck

Rick's house was outside the school district.

At first, my Mother was going to make us switch schools, but we begged her not to, and she gave in.

However, the district wouldn't drop us off at our house.

Instead we walked 3/4 of a mile, past fields, and most creepily, some abandoned modular homes and a cemetery.

One afternoon, I walked home alone since my brother had practice.

It was the middle of winter and bitter cold.

I didn't mind walking, but after that kidnapping attempt in 3rd grade, I was a lot more fearful about being by myself.

A blue pick-up passed by full of men or older boys, and my stomach dropped.

I hurried along, hoping it was just a fluke.

A few minutes later, it headed back my way. And now I was scared.

I ran to a neighbors house, pretending like it was mine, and banged on the door.

A grey pick-up pulled up in the driveway, a woman with a pixie cut behind the wheel.

I told her what happened and asked if she would drive me home.

Reluctantly she agreed, and I thanked her profusely.

Inside, I called my mother. I wanted to tell her what happened. To my surprise she was furious.

"Why did you bother the neighbor? Nothing happened!"

From then, and well into adulthood, my brother and her would screw their faces up in mock panic and yell, "Look, a blue truck!" Whenever we passed one.