Fiction Adventures

Sticks

“RUN!!!” Gabe yelled as he came racing towards me like a rocket. What on earth did my little four-year-old brother get into now? Normally, Gabe freaks out over silly things like that time when my T-rex toy tried to eat him. It only fell off my bookshelf right when he was passing by. Then, there was the time when he swore our next door neighbor Mrs. Riley was getting eaten alive by an invisible zombie. Sure, in her front yard she was screaming to the top of her lungs just like that singing goat at the zoo this summer. Her hands were also swatting at the air as she danced around the green grass. So it looked believable. However, when she started to slap her face and her legs, that’s when I grew suspicious. That kind of craziness looked just like Mom. She would also scream and swat at herself if an insect or small creature was on her. I was right! Mrs. Riley’s creature was a tiny tree frog on her neck instead of a zombie. So as Gabe shuttered from behind me, gripping my waist, I found myself not afraid at all. After all, first graders are supposed to be fearless.

“It’s over there, Joel!” he shouted while pointing towards the corner of our front yard where the sidewalk meets the street.

“What’s over there Gabe? And don’t say a tiny troll,” I said.

“It was a moving stick with lots of colors.”

“A stick or a…SNAKE!” I jumped back probably ten feet. There it was moving closer to our side of the grass, the colorful “stick” with red, yellow and black stripes. That little booger was really telling the truth.

 

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