The boys and I race down the sidewalk. JJ and Benny are always rearing to go in the morning. I notice a container on the parking strip about half a block away, near the driveway.
I pull the boys up and take a peek. It’s filled with blackberries. Blackberry vines have daggers for thorns and are nearly impossible to kill. Unless you turn two dogs loose in your backyard. JJ and Benny killed most of our blackberries, but not all. I have the scars to prove it.
It’s not hard to find blackberries to pick in the summer, but they’re sour as heck if you don’t get them at the peak of ripeness. My neighbors picked a nice plastic container full, and then left it. Did they mean to?
I think this is what happened. Georgia and her two little boys, 8 year old Matt and 6 year old Ryan, hopped into the SUV this sunny summer morning. Georgia promised Matt and Ryan they’d pick blackberries. Georgia parked near the trail and they all set off on the blackberry hunt. The blackberries’ thorns made quick work of Matt and Ryan’s fingers. Not even the sticky sweetness of the berries convinced them to pick any more and they wandered off onto the side of the trail. Georgia continued to pick and keep an eye on her boys. Ryan tumbled down the embankment next to the trail and screamed. Georgia came running. Matt hauled Ryan back up the bank, covered in mud mixed with a little dog shit. Ryan didn’t seem hurt just wet and smelly.
Georgia loaded the container and the boys back in the SUV. The stench coming off Ryan was unbearable. Back home in a jiff, Georgia told Matt to take the container while she got Ryan into the house and got the bath ready. Matt noticed his friends down the street, laid the container down, and joined his friends for a trip to the park.
And there lay the container, forgotten, exactly where Matt laid it down.
How about you? Do you think this is the way it went down?