Scary Noises

Scary Noises

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Snap! A branch just broke to the right of me. Rustling sounds are coming from the bushes. I look to the left, then the right. Nothing! I can't see anything, but I know there has to be something out there; noises just don't arise on their own. I look all around, searching every bush, tree, and shady spot to try and locate the noises; then, peace and quiet again. The calming sounds of birds chirping, the distant roar of the river, and the wind blowing leaves around, cover up the scary noises that I just heard. The back of my mind just won't forget those eerie noises, and I look all around me every five seconds for some kind of beast.

The drive up to the mountains is always exciting. I love seeing all of the beautiful scenery and taking in a huge breath of fresh, crisp, mountain air. As the air rushes into my lungs, it makes me feel refreshed and full of energy. The whole ride up, I stared out the window, watching each tree fly by on our way up the road. Today's mission is to look for cows and check the fences on our mountain property, Horse Mountain. My dad and I bounce along the gravel road in our old, blue Chevy truck with our three-legged iron horse in the back. We took the three-wheeler with us to make it easier to drive on the rough mountain roads ahead of us.

We finally reached the gate to Horse Mountain and I jumped out of the truck and ran to open the gate. It seemed like I had waited forever to get up there and start our mission, so I hurried and opened the gate. My dad pulled his truck through and I closed the gate. We got the ramps out of the truck and unloaded the three-wheeler. I jumped up on the back of the cold metal bars. This was always my spot whenever we took the three-wheeler, and I was loaded, and ready to take off. My dad jumped on, started up the three-wheeler, and off we went.

As we traveled along the road I asked question after question. "Where are we going? Where are all the cows? Can this think go any faster?" I would ask.

"Just wait and see," My dad would always reply.

This would do the trick for me and I would sit back, hang on, and enjoy the ride.

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There is nothing like sitting on the back of the three-wheeler, my hair blowing in the wind, bouncing around with every bump and hoping I do not fall off. Today was a perfect day for hitting bumps because the road was just covered with them, almost like a cobblestone road.

The morning was uneventful as we drove from place to place, checking on different gates, fences, and cows. The best part of the morning was when we saw a few deer. After checking on everything, it was time to start back down the mountain. We got three quarters of the way down and my dad decided he should check one last gate.

"Stay right here and I will be back just as soon as I go and look at the gate in the corner," he instructed.

I hopped off the three-wheeler and found a nice big rock to plop down on and wait for his return. As I sat down on the rock, my dad buzzed away and I watched him as far as I could until I could not see or hear him any longer.

All right, I will just wait right here and he will be back in no time, I thought to myself. Waiting for my dad will not kill me.

I mean it was not like there was a beast hiding in the bushes waiting to attack me.

Sitting on that scarred, firm rock got old fast. Not only was it tedious, but it sure made my butt hurt. I jumped up off the rock and found some small pebbles and a stick to occupy my time. I did not need a baseball diamond or a bat and ball to play baseball. Instead, I tossed a pebble in the air and swung the stick with all my might. Whoosh! Air was the only thing I hit with that swing. This did not discourage me, and I tried it again. Smack! The rock went sailing away, up over the top of some oak brush. If I had been on a field and that was a real ball, I am sure it would have been a home run. After I missed the rock a couple times, a damper was put on my baseball game, and I, once again, sat down to wait. I did not realize how slow time goes when you have nothing to do but sit and be bored.

With nobody for me to talk to, I started to listen to nature's beautiful sounds and suddenly became one with the great outdoors. The birds chirping, the whisper of the wind, and the distant roar of the Leroux Creek was all that I heard. I quickly became hypnotized and relaxed with these wonderful sounds and heard nothing around me.

Crack, snap, pop! I was no longer interested in the birds chirping or the river as it rumbled downhill to a greater destination, I wanted to know what in the world was making so much noise in the oak brush. One minute there is peace and quiet and the next minute it sounds like a two-ton bear getting ready to fly out of the brush and eat me up for his midmorning snack. I looked to the left, then to the right, nothing. Where was this crazy beast hiding? I searched every spot that horrible noise could have come from, but came up empty.

I was scared out of my wits. I could not deny the fact that I was scared; I was only a little eight-year-old boy sitting all by himself out in the middle of nowhere, with lots of scary noises all around him. I mean, who wouldn't be scared? It sure doesn't help when your mind plays tricks on you, making you hear things that are not even there and magnifying the little sounds that are present. I tried as hard as I could to think about something else and not listen to those sounds my mind was making up, but it was all for nothing. All I coud think about was the beast lurching about.

I sat there on the cold, hard rock and waited. There was nothing I could do, so I just sat impatiently, and waited for my dad to return. It was everything I could do to keep from screaming out in fright. Instead, I just sat there and stared at the ground hoping time would fly by and I would, once again, have some company. Finally, after what seemed like an hour after my dad had left, I heard the three wheeler bouncing along the rocky road. It was the best sound I had heard all day and I wanted to jump in the air and scream with joy.

"What took so long?" I yelled, when he got within hearing distance.

He said, "I was only gone five minutes."

"That was too long because I thought I was going to be eaten by a monster bear." I told him.

After telling him the whole story, I hopped on the cold, metal bars of the three-wheeler and we headed home.

Looking back on the situation, it all seems funny now; just a small boy, alone and scared. I am sure it happens all the time, but it is always the worst when it happens to you. Since then, I have grown up and learned not to let things get out of control and not to be scared so easily. Sure, strange noises will still scare me every once in a while, but I know that eerie noises don't just arise on their own. Now I don't have to look around for the beast after every small noise when I am alone in the woods because I once was a small boy, alone and scared and have since outgrown the beast.
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