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The One That Got Away
I've got to tell you this incredible story about a friend of mine. His name is Tiny Moe. I've known Tiny all my life and there ain't any reason for him to lie to me. I have a hard time believing his story myself, but I do. 'Cause I was there!
Tiny and I were fishing one day last summer. We were at the old mill pond over on the Handly property, reeling them in one after the other. Boy, the fish were biting that day! We must have caught ten keepers.
I know Tiny didn't just make this up 'cause he always been more of farmer than a story teller. In fact he's got the greenest thumb of anyone in town. Last year he won a prize for the biggest tomato at the Harvest festival. His Garden is always loaded with the best plants. Anyway, when Tiny was rope’n up the rowboat, he noticed an odd wild flower in a patch of crab grass. It was like a sunflower, but it had long yellow petals.
When he picked the blossom, Tiny let out a yell that curled the hair on my neck. That flower must have had a thorn. That's what I thought. He kept yelling and flailing his arms like he was being electrocuted. Sparks were even jumping from the stringer of fish he was holding. About the time I figured he needed help, Tiny just up and disappeared. Faster then a blink, he was gone. I looked around. I even called out his name. He wasn't anywhere to be found. All that was left was a scorched spot in the grass.
For about an hour I wondered where ol' Tiny was. I'm not sure if I was waiting for him to come back, or just working up the nerve to go and face his wife alone. I was just starting my walk back to town when there was a big splash in the water behind me. I turned around and saw Tiny flat on his back in the shallow bank of the mill pond. It wasn't an easy job, but I pulled Tiny to shore. He's a big man.
The first thing I noticed when I touched him was that he was ice cold. I could almost hear his teeth a' chattering. His eyes were open, but I don't think he was all the way awake. When I got him to solid ground he started grabbing at me and fighting to get away at the same time. He was screaming nonsense mostly, except for an occasional "Help!"
It took a few minutes for Tiny to calm down. When he looked at me I could see real clearly he was crying. Big tears ran down his whiskered cheeks. His voice was cracking and strained when he tried to explain what happened.
"I don't know where it was but it was far away. I could tell by the way I was feeling."
Tiny looked into my eyes and pleaded for me to understand. "Do you know how you feel when you go on a carnival ride and get spinning around?" He asked. "You get that feeling that everything inside you is being pushed to one side as you go shooting off in the other direction." Tiny used his hands to Show himself shooting off in some direction. "I felt that way." He explained.
"You just disappeared." I told him. "You didn't go off in any direction."
"Oh yes I did!" He demanded. "I was snatched. That's what happened to me. That funny flower was the bait, and I was caught hook, line, and sinker, jerked out of my boots and snatched right up by . . ."
"By who," I asked, "little men from Mars?"
"It wasn't Mars. I'd know Mars if I saw it." He said believing himself.
“What happened there?" I asked. "You were gone for about an hour."
Tiny layed back on the green grass and looked into the summer sky where misty streaks of clouds crossed the deep blue. "I was moving through a dark tunnel, lightening was zapping all around me. I couldn't stop myself." He said. "The tunnel was getting smaller, and I was going faster and faster."
Tinys’ big belly shook with every word. His speech was rapid and his breath was short. Sweat was beading on his forehead. He continued without a pause.
"I could see the end of the tunnel ahead of me, and something moving outside the small opening. They were waiting for me to arrive."
I had to interrupt him. "What did they look like, who were they?"
Without taking any time to make up the story, he answered. "They were big, really big. I couldn't see a lot of detail through the little hole, but they could pick me up in their hands if they had the mind to. They were giants! I dropped the stringer of fish and tried to grab the sides of the tunnel."
"What happened next?" I asked, wondering if it was all a made up story.
"That's when I got stuck."
"What?"
Tiny continued his story with a giggle. "The tunnel got too small at the other end. I couldn't fit through it. When I started to rub up against the sides it flashed green sparks and I slid to a stop. I was wedged tighter than a cork in a jug!" Tiny slapped the sides of his wide belly.
"I could see them outside trying to get at me. They poked at me through the opening but they couldn't reach me. I was about ten feet back."
"How did you get out?" I asked.
"My arms were trapped at my side against the tunnel wall. I couldn't do anything. I was stuck there for a while. Then the walls sparked again as I was set free and started moving back in the other direction. I don't remember much else, except that you pulled me out of the mud."
"Wow!" I said, amazed.
"Do you believe me?" He asked.
"I saw you disappear. I believe you," then I added, "but I wouldn't tell that story to anyone else.”
We were quiet the rest of the afternoon as we picked up our fishing poles and started the walk back to town. Both of us had our own thoughts about the fishing trip and the stories we might tell about the big one that got away.
Time Travel and Dimensional Journeys Page 3
