Wearing her finest Sunday attire, a light blue and ruffly dress fastened around the waist by a single, embroidered bow, Little Emily happily trotted down the hillside in search of the ideal site for a picnic. The eight year old, sandy blond haired girl was taking great pains not to dirty up the pretty dress, avoiding any yucky mud puddles or branches which might try to snag at the soft fabric, not only because it had been given to her by her favorite auntie just the week before, but also because any resulting imperfections would most assuredly be noted by her sharp eyed mother. In an instant, her mother would know she hadn’t gone to the park near the church with the other kids, like she’d been told to.
Emily glanced up the hill, instinctively gauging the distance between her and the dirt road she’d left behind, which translated in her childish thoughts as kind of far, but not too far to get lost. Then, the little girl stopped abruptly, the sudden action causing the contents of her small wood-strip basket to jumble around a bit. She checked her edibles to make sure they were all still intact, then placed a lone finger on her bottom lip as she surveyed her surroundings.
“That’s a good spot, don’t you think?” She asked out loud, then pointed at a huge and gnarled old oak tree, its bark rough and dark, and its barren limbs spiking out crazily from their origins, as if attempting to scratch and mar the very air that drifted past. “Nobody’ll see us from the road, if we sit next to that big ol’ tree.”
A few short hops later, Little Emily was beside the dark giant, and casually, she ran her tiny fingertips over its bumpy surface, as she stepped around to the opposite side of the great trunk. “This will do!” She exclaimed excitedly, as she found a small patch of dirt in the midst of the massive exposed roots for her and her companion to sit. “Here, hold this while I set the tablecloth.” The little girl gingerly held out the basket, but a few seconds later, it was still dangling from her fingers.
Little Emily pouted. “Fine, make me do all the work.” She complained, setting the basket on the ground, then reaching inside it to retrieve the green and white checkered cloth, not her favorite colors mind you, not in the slightest, but that morning it was all her mother could spare for her. A couple of quick shakes unfolded the material, then, still minding her nice dress and shiny black shoes, she calmly and carefully began laying the tablecloth in the dirt.
A sudden breeze interrupted her progress, and impatiently, Emily kneeled on the cloth to keep it from flying away, using her little hands to pin down the farthest corners. Almost teasingly, the breeze began fluttering the hem of her dress, but her unyielding elbows soon put a stop to that. The moment the wind subsided, the girl quickly scurried to move the tablecloth a few feet closer to the protection of the oak, then placed the picnic basket right in the middle of the cloth to keep it in place. Tenderly, Emily straightened out the cloth, brushing off the tiny grains of loose dirt that had mischievously bounced onto the fabric.
Once she was done, Emily glanced about, as if trying to discern the wind’s whims, then looked into the face of the great tree in whose shadows she rested. Most people would say it was an ugly tree, she thought, and maybe even a scary tree, but not her. To her it was a beautiful tree, maybe the most beautiful one in the whole world.
She turned back towards her invisible companion. “You can sit on that side.” She directed, leaning forward to reach into the basket. “You know, its not supposed to be windy today, not at all. Least, that’s what my momma told me this morning.”
From the basket’s innards, Emily produced two colorful paper plates, which she placed on either side of the basket. “One for you, one for me.” She said, then proceeded to bring out two little juice pouches. Glancing at the labels brought a furrow to her brow, and finally, she gave up and held them out for perusal. “Would you rather have the apple juice, or the grape juice?” After a long, quiet moment, she placed the grape juice on the opposite side, and kept the second drink for herself.
Off in the distance, Emily could hear the voices of some boys approaching, and this brought a frown to her little face. “Hope they don’t come an’ mess up my picnic.” She whispered, waiting until the voices drifted away before she felt comfortable enough to continue. “’Kay, here is the main course.” Emily announced with a big smile, showing off two paper wrapped sandwiches. “They’re both nutter butter and smelly jelly, an’ I made them all by myself!”
A handful of seconds passed, where the wind threatened to pick up again, but in the end, thankfully, it died down.
“Okay, okay!” Emily admitted amidst a round of giggles. “I had a little help from momma. How’d you know I didn’t make them myself?”
Another pause.
“Well, I hope you like your sandwich anyway.”
At this, two boys, both just a couple of years older than Emily, rounded the edge of the big oak. Like Emily, they were also playing hookie from their Sunday school activities, and even though the little girl frowned towards the pair in a most unwelcome grimace, they nevertheless kept on coming.
“We were wonderin’ where you ran off to.” The lean and mean Robert asked. “Almost didn’t find you, ‘til we heard you talkin’.”
His heftier cohort, Tommy walked up beside the boy. “Yeah, who you talkin’ to, Emily?”
“You know how weird she is.” Robert was quick to comment. “She’s probably talking to the stupid tree.”
When no answer came forth from the girl, Tommy became more insistent. “Well? What are you doing out here, all by your lonesome?”
“I’m having a picnic, if you have to know.” Emily finally replied.
“How come you’ve got two places set?” Tommy pressed. “Ain’t nobody out here but you.”
“I think she’s expectin’ a boyfriend.” Robert giggled.
“That right?” Tommy asked, teasingly. “You meeting a boyfriend out here?”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” Emily snapped, pouting again. “Just go away!”
“Well, what if we don’t want to?” Robert taunted, crossing his arms defiantly. “What are you going to do about it?”
The appetite driven Tommy noticed the sandwiches. “Hey, why don’t you let me have a sandwich? You ain’t gonna eat both of them anyway.” He said, taking a couple of steps towards the tablecloth. “Let me have one, and then we’ll go on our way.”
“These are not for you.” Emily shook her head. “They’re for somebody else!”
“I think we should just take the both of them!” Robert conspired. “Then each of us can get one.”
“Yeah.” Tommy agreed, his mouth salivating with the thought of food.
“Eeeek! Stop it!” Emily shouted, snatching both sandwiches from the tablecloth, and pressing them against her chest. “You can’t have them!”
“Who’s gonna stop us?” Robert sneered, taking a step towards the little girl.
Just then, something that couldn’t be seen stirred from the opposite end of the tablecloth. Judging from the amount of dust that was kicked up, it was a rather large something, but quizzically, no matter how hard the boys stared, the rather large something remained unseen.
“What was that?” Tommy asked, his mouth agape, his body immobile from fear.
“It was nothing!” Robert, not one to be easily swayed, persisted. “It was just the wind, is all. Now let’s get those sandwiches!” He reached out roughly, but Emily shrank away from his greedy clutches, when…
The unseen, rather large something snorted.
“Robert! I heard something!” Tommy asked fearfully. “And it didn’t sound like no wind!” The burly boy looked down at Emily. “What was that?”
The little girl’s lips were now tightly sealed, although her eyes shone with fear.
“It was nothing!” Robert insisted, although he’d straightened up. “Now, come on and help me!” When his accomplice didn’t budge, Robert glowered back briefly. “Fine, I’ll do it myself, you chickenshi–”
Quite suddenly, something pummeled into the boy’s side, shoving him into his now trembling buddy, and knocking both of them into the loose dirt, where they kicked up a considerable amount of dust in their mad scramble to get back on their feet.
“Goooo awaaay!” A chillingly monstrous voice growled, and a large fistful of dirt flew in the boys’ direction.
Needing no further urging, the two miscreants ran away. Robert, uncaring as to his buddy’s progress, was soon far in the lead, and the much slower Tommy, several lengths behind, could be heard panting and moaning as he galloped up the hill.
“I hate those two.” Emily scowled. “Sometimes I wish they would go away forever!”
There was a pause.
“No, don’t do that!” Emily scolded her visitor. “That would be bad! Promise me you won’t ever do that! Never ever!”
Another handful of seconds passed.
“Okay, then.” She said with obvious relief. “Now, let’s get on with our picnic, before somebody else comes along to ruin it.” Emily, unwrapped the first sandwich, and set it on the plate across from her. After a quick glance up the hill, where the boys had all but disappeared, she proceeded to unwrap the second sandwich. “I hope those two don’t tell momma.” She sighed.
She turned back to her unseen companion. “Well, I hope you like nutter butter.” She said, taking a bite of her own sandwich.
After a couple of moments, a huge bite appeared on the second sandwich, and Little Emily smiled.