Six Sentence Story- Perilous Promises 7

PROMPT WORD:  SPARK

Perilous Promises is my continuing story outline of two young children trying to make it from Honduras over the U.S. border. They’ve traveled for more than a month hoping to make it to their American citizen great Aunt Maria and safety. They made some friends and some enemies along their perilous journey. The first 6 installments are available below:
https://sillyfrogsusan.com/2021/03/24/six-sentence-story-perilous-promises/
https://sillyfrogsusan.com/2021/04/07/six-sentence-story-perilous-promises-2/
https://sillyfrogsusan.com/2021/04/14/six-sentence-story-perilous-promises-3/
https://sillyfrogsusan.com/2021/04/28/six-sentence-story-perilous-promises-4/
https://sillyfrogsusan.com/2021/08/11/six-sentence-story-perilous-promises-5/
https://sillyfrogsusan.com/2021/08/18/six-sentence-story-perilous-promises-6/

Yumi motioned to Ernesto to follow her outside once Abria was safely tucked into bed and offered him an ancient cellphone, a small amount of money, and what sounded like an order for him to proceed to the border without his little sister who didn’t have the strength to make it.

Ernesto knew she was right about Abria but, having every ounce of trust beaten out of him by now, decided to spark a conversation about Yumi’s relationship to Maria so he could be sure that his sister was in good hands.

Theirs was a similar journey 40 years before when Maria was forced to leave her best friend Yumi behind in this little village deathly ill and unable to continue to the sanctuary of the United States of America.

Satisfied of Yumi’s ability to care for Abria until he could send for her, Ernesto bid Yumi farewell with instructions conveyed to her by Aunt Maria for him to reach Mission Texas and set out to reconnect with Mig to complete the perilous trek.
******

George Navarro was just about to the end of his 20-hour border patrol shift in Mission Texas when he heard a terrified bloodcurdling squeal ahead of him and gave his horse a kick galloping toward the sound.

He spotted a real four-legged coyote yanking a lone small child by the hood of his jacket to the ground with four other pack members drawing a closing circle, so he lifted his rifle and neutralized one sending the rest scattering as George swiftly dismounted and swept the sobbing child into his arms.

Sunday Whirl Wordle #539- Saving Our Babies

nailing -vibrating -smells -facts -rain -leak -brushed -hesitation -body -miss -shots -cut

See the source image


Without hesitation she threw her body between the child and the oncoming speeding car. The young officer was brushed aside, as the vehicle screeched to a halt, sustaining a cut to her forehead from the sideview mirror. A possible tragic scene was altered to a ‘near miss‘ because of her quick reflexes. The facts that led her to be at this place at an exact moment to save a life would surely wake her up in the night for weeks.
A call about a possible rabid raccoon -out during the day- in the area had her roaming the quiet neighborhood alone and on foot. She’d raced to the sound of frantically barking dogs and the rest was history.
After sending the child on her way, the officer cautiously approached the driver’s side window of the errant vehicle. Perhaps the recent rain downpour had been a factor for the swerving or was the driver texting?
The window squeaked as it slowly lowered. Immediately smells of marijuana and alcohol assaulted the officer. She knew she’d be nailing this guy for something!
After wiping blood from the still leaking laceration, away from her right eye, she drew her revolver and shouted to the driver, “Get out of the vehicle with your hands where I can see them!”.
Suddenly her body was vibrating! As she dropped toward the pavement, she saw the flashes from the gun but never heard the shots. The officer was dead before she hit the ground.
The car and occupants raced away.
Before the ambulance arrived, a female raccoon rushed from nearby bushes with her rescued lost baby and disappeared down a storm drain.


https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/02/06/wordle-539/

Six Sentence Story- Perilous Promises 4

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Link your post Wednesday night through Saturday late…
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers 😀

PROMPT WORD:  PAWN

Ernesto tucked his sister under an outcropping of roots still courageously clinging to the winding, severely eroded, creek bank, then washed her face and gave her the last of their bread and cheese, hoping it wouldn’t rain and they’d remain safely hidden, but if it did rain, the danger of drowning in a flashflood was absolutely real so he prayed that Nature would cooperate.

The creek was running swiftly from the April mountain melt so Mig was practically on top of them before Ernesto noticed him approaching their encampment but his easy gait signaled a non-threatening approach and when his face came into view, Mig was a sight for sore eyes; there stood the tall fellow he’d distracted the police from arresting a few days before.

Connecting with people along this perilous journey was not a frequent pleasure, and certainly wasn’t done the usual way, it was all about the ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’ and telling the difference from body language, and direct eye contact, became a sharpened instinct he’d never known existed but one that had served him well, so far.

Abria had just fallen asleep so Ernesto met the boy, five years his senior, halfway with an outstretched hand before Mig introduced himself formally and started warning Ernesto about the men who appeared to want him dead and of their intentions to search this area in the morning.

Within the hour, they had come up with a plan to follow the creek further down to an outlying town off the route most heavily traveled by the caravans, Abria was stirred, and the larger, stronger, Mig carried her, while Ernesto followed with their backpacks also deeply relieved of an unseen weight by this timely new friend and advisor.

During their discussion, Mig had noticed the children’s white wristbands with sunflower patterns and had told Ernesto that that meant his father had not paid for their passage, at all, but had sold them to a cartel which would expect them to pay up at the border or work off their debt in many unpleasant ways- Ernesto now realized he had just been a disposable pawn all along and as the first tears streamed down his face since this nightmare began, he asked his Mama, in heaven, to continue watching out for them as he silently sobbed.

For other authors’ work on this prompt, click the prompt immediately below.
InLinkz – Linkups & Link Parties for Bloggers

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (wordpress.com)
It’s Six Sentence Story Thursday Link Up! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (wordpress.com)

Once upon a time…

Nugget 2

I happened upon a vendor, at the flea market, this weekend. She was selling old beaten, yet still useful, metal trucks. My heart was happy at the memories stirred by these relics. Days spent riding them over the grass hills of my backyard with my brother. Tumbling and laughing …oblivious of their sharp edges and lead paint…we used them in the unintended ways kids do with toys.
Out of nowhere, I remembered Halloween and the fun we had roaming our neighborhood until 10:00 pm! I reminisced for a moment with the vendor. We shared a happy talk of pillowcases filled with candy and the knowing we were safe because we knew our neighbors.
“Now, Halloween is limited to an hour and a half .” I sighed. “Oh well, the kids won’t miss what they never had, I guess.”  I walked away with a heavy heart.

The next vendor had a metal Popgun for sale. He wanted $20.00 for memory’s sake and I held the toy, not daring to buy, but allowing myself the memories of me, as Annie Oakley once again. Jamming the barrel with dirt that would go off, with a pop and a puff, was not the intended use, of course. Such happy times…

I’d just had a birthday so reminiscing was near, anyway. The rest of the morning held flashbacks to the happiest times riding in the back of pick-up trucks and on top of hay wagons, with the breeze and treetops at my cheek.
Building campfires on an old dirt road and learning to swim without life vests in the ponds and creeks, came back. Using a wood-burning set without incident and at an “inappropriate” age and the “Thing Maker” with molten goop producing plastic bugs. Riding an, at least 1000 lb horse, bareback at the age of 6 and wandering about the cows, who weighed the same, without fear nor injury because I had been taught about caution. Oh yes, and building bows with arrows of sharpened sticks with the Barlow pocketknife grandpa bought for me. Building jumps for my spider bike and riding with no hands…feet upon the handles…producing some scrapes and bruises, but what a ride! Climbing to the tops of trees and silos and getting scared but holding tight and cheering “like a gold medalist” when I, once again, found the ground.
These things are dangerous and won’t happen any more…why? Because no modern child would attempt them. They haven’t any way to test themselves…to learn caution as they grow by “uping” the ante of self-reliance. All they know is “You mustn’t try. You mustn’t risk. Your judgement is flawed.Don’t get hurt.”
Kids are taught to fear, now.  A fine beginning to taming them…self-reliance is dangerous, you know.
Wild colts can turn into sheep.

Kids won’t miss, what they never had…

Going Wild

51gpiNPzMPL._SY344_PJlook-inside-v2,TopRight,1,0_SH20_BO1,204,203,200_ (1)As I’ve stated before, this blog is meant to be a journal for my grandchildren. I wish I could have one from my grandparents. I would love to see their inner thoughts and principles documented to be shared with future generations. I was lucky. I spent a great deal of time with my grandparents. Their memories and principles are a part of who I am.

Even though I spend an enormous amount of time (by today’s standards) with my granddaughters, I still enjoy accumulating thoughts for their pleasure and reflection one day.

I am currently reading a book which touches something very dear to me. It is The Nature Principle by Richard Louv. I suspect there will be a greater need for the wisdom, presented between these covers, in the future and want to document my first impression of this book.

The connection between human beings and “Mother Nature” is fading. I believe that we must not allow our kids to grow up in, what I believe, is a two-dimensional environment. When we are out-of-doors and surrounded by natural things, we absorb an appreciation of our worth and rejuvenate our sense of well-being. Just the other day, my granddaughter (age 8) was feeling ultra-emotional about being left behind by her mother. I said, “Why don’t you go outside for awhile?” She did. The transformation was immediate. She calmed and came back indoors wearing a smile. This method, of adding balance, works for me everyday. I sometimes just step outside for a few moments yet find my mood benefits very much.

I’ve hardly dipped into the book but already know what, I believe, the author knows about our integral connection to the natural world and its importance to human health. I have described my feelings in the forest as “comfortably insignificant”. Somehow, the realization of forces and life struggles outside of one’s own “bubble” put things in a wonderful perspective.

The first evidence this book cited, was the “instinctive intuition” available to those who have had a nature connection in their lives, as opposed to, those who have not. A study of soldiers who have avoided roadside bombs simply from their “whole view” of their surroundings is quite revealing. Those soldiers who came from rural settings, and/or had hunted or hiked the wilds, somehow noticed the “something’s wrong with this picture” element. Their success in identifying “trouble”, well out weighed, those who had spent their youthful time in front of TV and video realities. I call the latter, a “two-dimensional” view. These people are not accustom to using ALL of their senses in order to navigate the world. They have never felt fully vulnerable like one does in the wild. Total safety, allows us not to need the details and detective work of survival. Interestingly, the other group who was “in tune” with danger, and had highly developed instincts, were those from rough neighborhoods in the cities. Feeling vulnerable, obviously, makes us wise and sharp.

My time in the woods has offered me the view, of a deer approaching, from my sense of smell alone. On a few occasions, I have smelled the wet fur (somewhat like a wet dog) before I have heard or seen the animal. We humans have many amazing abilities that our indoor existence has atrophied. These instincts are not simply meant to be kept alive but, may be crucial, in keeping us alive.

As far as detective work, I use it all of the time. Until now, I thought everyone did. For instance, this may seem weird, but I have a bird feeder within view of my bathroom window. It is very close to my parking area behind the house. In the morning, I am often in the bathroom when my day care friends arrive. If I believe I hear a car in my driveway, I look to my bird feeder. If the birds are still boldly feeding, I know a car really did not enter the area. If the birds scatter, then I expect a door slam to follow.

Everyday, I tell my kids to be detectives. Just last week, I was changing a diaper, right after the “drop off” time. I turned to one kid and said,” Your mom left the diaper bag in the car last night, didn’t she?” The 6-year-old was surprised and said, “Yes…she did!”

Then I asked her, how did I know that fact? She shrugged.
“It’s in the clues. Your brother’s diaper wipes are very cold. If she had just put them into the car, they would be warm.”

We use the “detective method” all day long. I believe it is very much a part of keeping kids really engaged with their environment. The skills for logical deduction are very important.

So, I will post other enlightening finds from this exceptional book. In the meantime, make time to be “wild”. 😉

War on Punks

English: Suspect in a possible hate crime in V...
English: Suspect in a possible hate crime in Vancouver . (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/08/21/police-say-teen-shot-australian-student-in-oklahoma-for-fun-it/

The link above is to the recent news article about the tragic killing of an Australian young man by some “punks” who were reportedly bored. The news media has offered many reasons for this atrocity. To name a few:

  • The US gun culture…
  • A racial hate crime…
  • Violence inspired by game playing…

I believe that I stumbled upon the real deeper cause when I commented in a reaction to this horror … “We need a “war on punks”!”
A punk, in my mind, is a young male who is striving for manhood by means of intimidation and violence.
Sadly, and dangerously, our society has lost the traditional definition of manhood.
Some of the reasons are economic but many stem from a “watering down” of the roles men play. Confused? So are our sons.
Back in the day, men were the providers of protection and the essentials for family survival. Since caveman times, the males had a clear role and spent (testosterone inspired) energy to fill that position.
Enter the women’s movement, government assistance, modern conveniences, absentee fathers and unemployment and you have idle time in the hands of males without direction.
Remember, to every action comes an equal and opposite reaction?
The women’s movement was a GOOD thing. This is not a puritanical conservative documentary, in the least. It is, however, a thoughtful wondering about the male experience in an attempt to shed light on a grave predicament in our culture.
“What makes a man?”
Punks seem to believe it is an adrenaline rush inspired by a dangerous act.
How did that happen?

First, we have taken the pointed scissors away from kids. That’s right. This cushioned, ultra-safety oriented, society has had a hand in making boys into sissies. Their confidence and male bravado has no inspiration.
I asked a 10-year-old to help me with lawn mowing, the other day. He said he’d never been asked. There must be a warning label, somewhere, which claims that my suggestion was illegal! (ATVs have labels too. “No one under twelve can operate them.” Funny though, the youth-sized ones are generally too small for most twelve-year-olds.)

Secondly, fatherhood is a duty not a choice. Modern society has lost sight of that in a nutshell. Boys need quality men to show them how to become men of quality.

Thirdly, Idle time and video game playing are not allowing for physical exertion. Scientifically, the lack of physical exertion MUST have an adverse effect upon testosterone fueled adolescents! I’m sure there is a study somewhere which would verify that adrenaline is a necessary drug in a young man’s life.

There must be a way to counteract the poisonous conditions of our sons’ environments.
Sports teams are one way. But many have not the means, nor interest, to take part in sports.
May I suggest, that in dealing with boys who have been expelled from or have dropped out of school, who have had scrapes with the police or are members of gangs, that we seriously entertain a type of boot camp. (Yes, those who have no pre-existing  disability, only.)
Of course, the boot camp would be the bottom line but they could be exempt from going if they entered a mentor program or volunteered in community service opportunities.

NOW, the race card would be thrown at this idea. The chances are, the black community would be in high attendance. (Unemployment and absentee fathers the catalyst.) BUT, instead of thinking this was an effort to marginalize minorities…why wouldn’t we consider it helping where the help is most needed?

These are just infant ideas for a possible cause and solution for a deep problem that just won’t be going away. What do you think?

Kid Book Review-Loopy

I had mixed feelings about this story upon the first reading. The illustrations are wonderful but I thought the story was a little scary. Then I kid tested it. My three year old “guinea pig” listened with wide-eyed interest. Of all the books recently borrowed from the library, this one was her favorite.

I’m usually against lying to kids and using monsters and giants in order to scare them away from dangers but there ARE dangers that they cannot comprehend. This story made a big impression upon my little friend. It told about a child who forgets her favorite cuddle toy, Loopy, at the doctor’s office. The child goes through the shock of being without her toy and the worry about getting Loopy back. This journey through the child’s mind even visits the possibility of her making her own way, out of the house, to rescue poor Loopy. The author then places a few scary scenarios into play. The storybook child imagines Giants and spiders along with the danger of getting lost if she were unsupervised in the world. Finally, the story ends happily with Loopy being returned by the doctor who brings the toy home after hours.

My little friend talked about the story, and particularly the danger of going outside without permission, throughout the day. This is one fine lesson for a three year old. That age group is notorious for feeling as though they can do almost anything.

So, I have child tested and enjoyed this story and recommend it!

Loopy by Aurore Jesset …Illustrated by Barbara Korthues