A Trap Within A Trap

Chapter 2

She waded cautiously thru the rougher spots of her backyard. Trying her best to extend her thick legs as far as possible with every step. Hoping to make the trip toward the heavily wooded area shorter, while mitigating the forage from touching her bare skin. Neither parts of her plan seemed to work in her favor, yet she carried on with the odd way of walking, holding her summer shawl closed over her bathing suite. They never had all of their nineteen hundred square footage groomed, only up to where guests and neighbors could see. Beyond there's a tangle of trees big and small, with wild bush and vines all intertwined making travel thru an obstacle, for those of us who stood further from the ground than children. Which happened to be just where her meddlesome, (though most parents would characterize them as adventurous) children loved to scat thru.

'Because of those damn shows on discovery channel, my big baby boy who is going be a football star, is really considering becoming a...' she had to strain to remember the title her son had been using now for months. 'Professional adventurer.' He would take his sister past the properly mowed lawn line, into what Omari as there over protective guardian considered to be, "the deep forest." She was so obtuse to the fact of wild life, she had no idea what was in the shadowy gloomy forage. She pictured lions, bears, and tigers, as well as the smaller scarier nuisances; snakes, and the all deadly coach roach spiders.

The Montana family resided within this home for small vacations away from the city just over a year, before deciding to move in permanently these past few months. The kids only suffering minor scrapes and bruises, accompanied by plenty of assorted bug bites. Omari however was a city girl to the core, despising animals of any kind on her property. Taking offence to them as if confronted by a criminal uninvited into one's home.

The kids didn't seem to mind the suburban life, and even her husband Jaquez, would challenge her fear for her babies adventures within the backyard. "Baby, we wanted them to grow up different from us. This is part of it. Plus there are no big bad animals back there. I asked around. Even the runaway dogs out here get scooped up. Just let them do them, while we ..." he moved in to seductively grab her throat from behind, "Do ..." then loosened his grip while allowing for his deep, hard suckling of her neck to lower, to the parts of her that burned for him just as brightly as when they first met.

She grinned devilishly at her dirty drifting thoughts. She was trying to keep herself calm. She hadn't heard, or seen her babies for what seemed like a whole hour. She told them to always check in with her every once in awhile if they were back there. Seemed the longer they stayed out the hood and the daily mess they left behind, the more she expected the drama to accumulate and suddenly fall on them. She was a pessimist by nature, expecting ill fate to suddenly fall like an unsuspecting bystander receiving a failing piano on a sidewalk. Something that seemed to happen in New York often, according to the pervasive urban legend.

If they were on their bikes, or just about anything else out front on the street, or at a neighbor's house, the queen of the castle would generally slumber. Yet her motherly instincts sent tidal waves of anxiety thru her whenever her kids were back here. And rightfully so, there now at this very moment was the instrument of death inches from her foot. This auspicious piece of death dealing technology, spawned from the mid-eighteen hundreds. Fueled by both patience and necessity, it is the latest incarnation of a device used to feed a small family such as the Montana's with the wild game native to this land since the dawning of mankind.

By divine grace alone the children never ventured very close to this device, with it being so densely packed over by marsh and vines over the century. This happenstance also spared the little scurrying lives of those who have passed by, and over the contraption. Also at this moment the Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies war over the cruelty inflicted on animals by such devices. Cushy, padded versions, which would decrease the pain inflicted upon the animal's leg are being proposed. Though In the nineteenth century, this device had been mass produced for performance and nothing else. The vintage rusted spring loaded bear trap would catch and hold any animal over five pounds. This indiscriminate device of slaughter was set almost two centuries ago, destined to trap a true varmint of society, and danger to the Montana family. Eventually.