The boy's youth rendered the sky a vast mystery, and the tractor a massive sleeping dragon. In the distance the swing-set shrieked with joy as the boy's sister, four years his senior, swung back and forth relentlessly. The boy turned to the concrete front steps of his home and giggled at the sight of the freshly cut jack-o-lanterns. He and father had carved a clown in the smallest one, and dipped their hands in finger paint to stamp it's colorful hair. The boy returned his gaze to the tractor. It was orange of color and he thought the front resembled the pumpkins upon the stoop. He stood up in the wobbly way that children of that age do and toddled forward to get a closer look. With each step, the tractor looked more and more like a smiling face; two headlamps on either side, with openings in the steel grill that resembled a nose and mouth. What was inside he wondered? From where was that growl coming? He stepped closer and peered through the nose. Belts and blades moved together in a fascinating mechanical dance. Curiosity got the better of the boy.
He inserted his tiny hand through one of the openings.
The scrape of the fan-belt against flesh.
The shattering of knuckles.
A Scream.
Shock.
Silence.
Having heard the brief squeal, the boy's sister launched herself from the swing and ran to see from where that curious sound had come. She approached her frozen brother. His arm still inside the mouth of the shuddering beast. She ran to him and pulled him backward.
Flesh and nail gone.
Skin twisted.
Exposed bone surrounded by char.
Cauterized.
Father returned and saw what had happened.
He scooped the frozen boy up frantically and called to mother.
"Get in the car, we're going to hospital" he bellowed.
"Whatever you do, don't look at his hand"
A true story Sinners. I bare the scars proudly. Though my hair is far from platinum these days.
Happy Halloween.
Posts
