The Speed of a Stampeding Box Turtle

A Southern Short Story

My mother and two sisters entered the house and walked through the living room. I was lying on the couch reading one of my favorite comic books. Mom stopped and looked in my direction; my sisters continued to their room.

“Hey Tommy, how was your morning?” she asked.

“Not too bad,” I said. “I had cereal for breakfast and watched some TV. Oh, and I was nearly killed.”

“Again?” she said without missing a beat. She wore a playful grin on her face.

I glanced up at her. Somehow, I had the feeling she didn’t believe me. I had a pretty active imagination; there was no denying it. But I didn't complain about near-death experiences regularly. Granted, there may have been one or two other times—three, if I counted the horse incident. Still, I was her son. Considering what I’d just said, I expected a little more sympathy. Her notably low level of concern was distressing. Annoyed, I returned to my reading.

Sensing my irritation, she said, “Sounds like you’ve had a rough one, little man.” She crossed the room and sat down beside me on the couch. Softening her expression to one of actual concern, she asked, “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No,” I said. I was perturbed. I was pretty sure that she didn’t really feel my anguish, and even more certain that she wouldn’t believe my story.

“Oh, come on,” she ribbed. “It couldn't have been that bad. Could it?” She smiled and playfully poked me in the side. “Come on, honey, talk to Mommy. I do care!”

I sat up and set the comic book on the coffee table. Looking her in the eyes and mustering as much sarcasm as possible, I asked, “Really, you care?”

“Of course,” she said with her eyes wide and pleading. She was trying hard to exude sincerity. She must have been successful because, ultimately, I relented. To me, it was a traumatic experience, one that would be with me forever. I realized that spilling the beans might put me into some serious hot water, but I had to tell someone.

Filled with nervous energy, I sat up straighter. “So, here’s what happened…”

Continued...



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