The Jungle

I was walking along the small path with overgrown bushes on either side. It wasn’t dark yet. I wondered how long it would be before I had to quit for darkness. I heard no sounds except for my own breathing as I paced my gait along the way. I had gone only a short distance when I heard something coming in my direction. I don’t know what made me do it, but I ran underneath the brush on my left and hid thinking nothing could see me. I heard the snapping of twigs and the leaves rustling on the ground. With my heart racing, I didn’t move a muscle and waited for the danger to pass by quickly. All of a sudden, it started raining, but just on me. The water felt warm and it seemed cloudy. I remained where I was for a few moments more, and then came out of my hiding place and cautiously looked in both directions before continuing on.

It was peaceful again as I walked along the path dipping my head underneath the bushes that had grown onto the worn walkway when I came to a small fork in the forest. I wondered as to which direction to take and I chose the path on the right. All of a sudden, I felt something tug at my shoulder. I was terrified and screamed, and then I realized that it was just a twig that caught hold of my coat collar. Silly me! I released the offending twig and then I found myself skipping along the path until I came to a clearing in the forest.

I couldn’t understand why I didn’t catch the scent of the smoke before. I guessed that the wind had been blowing in the opposite direction. And there they were, some of them with their bodies naked to the waist. They were all around this tremendous fire and poking it with long sticks which had something embedded at the tips. Their bodies were lit up and kept warm by the heat of the fire. Whatever it was that was stuck onto those sticks had turned black. I couldn’t believe my eyes; it was an eerie sight. Then they noticed me. Someone yelled, “There she is. Let’s get her. Don’t let her get away.” But only two of them broke the circle to run after me. I was ahead of them racing away. Somehow, I made my way out of that nightmare, and ran out of that jungle to the comfort of my home.

When I entered the house, I was greeted by my mother who was busy setting the table for supper. I welcomed her admonishment. She had a twinkle in her eye even as she ranted, “Are they coming? Dottie, why are you out of breath and what is that smell coming from you. Your clothes are wet. How did you let some dog pee on you? Get into your room and take those clothes off, and get into your pajamas.”
I happily did as she beckoned. Just then, I heard the front door open and my two brothers came into the house.


Footnote!
Some of you readers may be too young to remember roasting mickeys on an open fire in the middle of an abandoned lot. Mickeys were white potatoes or yams. In the city suburbs with their attached stooped houses, the jungle as I remembered it being called was an escape or avenue to exciting adventure for the children. It was a place that we had all to ourselves.