It happened when I was 8; I was in third grade. I had my friend Rachel over for the weekend. We bundled up in layers of clothes and dragged our toboggans to the apartment hill, a few blocks from my home. It was a favourite spot for neighbourhood kids to toboggan.
Surprisingly, we had the hill to ourselves that sunny Saturday morning. We took turns speeding down the hill and made our way back up again, dragging our toboggans behind us a little slower each time.
Once, as I was nearing the top, I turned to speak to Rachel, but she wasn't behind me. I looked to the bottom of the hill and saw her talking to a man. In the next instant I saw him take her hand and they walked towards the garage. I called her name, but she kept walking, I called again, but they disappeared into the garage.
I'd been taught well not to speak to strangers let alone go anywhere with them. I felt a wave of panic. My first instinct was to look for help but there was no one around and she was already in the garage. I ran, stumbling and rolling half way down the hill, wondering later why it never occurred to me to toboggan down. I pounded on the garage door yelling her name.
The door opened and I saw her standing calmly, eating a chocolate bar. I told her she shouldn't be in there. She said it was OK, he knew her dad. As I reached to grab her hand I heard the garage door shut behind me. I turned to see his face smiling down at me. I swallowed hard and wanted to scream, but was unable to make a sound.
He offered me the other half of the Oh Henry, to this day a chocolate bar I can't eat. He said he closed the door because if other kids came they would want a chocolate bar and he only had one. He told me how he knew Rachel's dad. I looked at her as she happily ate the chocolate bar, and wondered if maybe he was telling the truth, hoping he was telling the truth. Foolishly I began to eat the chocolate.
He said he probably knew my dad too. He asked what his name was and where he worked. Yes, he was sure he knew him, and wondered where we lived. I told him. He started to tell us what pretty girls we were and asked us our ages. He said he bet he could lift Rachel up, and in one quick swoop he did, lifting her high above his head. I wanted to cry but held back the tears as he set her down and reached for me.
The next thing I remember is the door opening and walking outside. He said not to tell anyone because other kids would expect him to give them candy too. We said we wouldn't tell. Rachel seemed unaffected. I was angry with her and I felt sick. I told her she shouldn't have gone in there. We walked home in silence and never talked about it with each other again.
When we got home, we took off our wet clothes and laid them over the furnace vents to dry. We got into dry clothes and my mother asked if we would like a snack. I quickly blurted out that we had had a chocolate bar, wanting her to know, needing her to know.
She sensed the panic in my voice and asked me what happened. I saw the fear in her eyes as she hollered for my father. I kept saying it was O.K., he knew Rachel's dad, he knew mine, but deep down I knew it wasn't O.K. They asked us over and over the details of what had occurred, and then we never talked about it again, until the following week.
I lived only a few blocks from school, so I walked home for lunch. One day as I turned the corner, I was shocked to see a police car in our driveway. When I got inside, my mom and dad said the police officers wanted to ask me some questions about the man that had given Rachel and I the candy. I felt the same waive of panic come over me as I had that day in the garage.
I recalled what happened just as I had told my mother and father that Saturday. It turned out the man didn't know Rachel's dad or mine. It turned out he had hurt some other children. The police officer said Rachel and I were lucky. I didn't feel lucky at the time. My parents kept telling me that I did nothing wrong. They knew the only reason I went into the garage was to protect my friend. They said everything was O.K.
I walked back to school and when the bell rang I went and got in line. I remember feeling sick like something bad had happened but I wasn't sure what. I remember looking at the faces of the other kids laughing and having fun and thinking that I would never feel like that again.
Brianna Popsickle, Letters From A Suburban Prison
Observations and reflections on life, and the people around her; written as a mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, neighbour, co-worker, or whatever else anyone needs her to be.
Artist. Writer. Woman. - Struggling to re-appear after years of confinement in a suburban prison.
Chilling story Brianna. It demonstrates how quickly predators can strike. Your action probably prevented a much worse outcome. Thanks for telling the story. Steve
Brianna, I'm with Steve, a chilling story that had me reading without
blinking my eyes. I didn't realize that until now. Actually, terror
swelled in my heart and I'm calmer now that my mind has stopped racing and heartbeat is normal. It brought back memories of me and my youngest sister and we were protected, too. I'm so thankful of this outcome for you and Rachel. So thankful you told someone. Respond to this comment
» left by Brianna Popsickle (193 days 20 hours ago.)
Thank you for your comment Avis. It's so important for children to know they can tell their parents anything. I hope my article may prompt some discussion between parents and their children.
I remember playing on the side of the road with my older sister and some friends when we were little. At one point, a man pulled his car over, got out, ran over to my sister and pulled on her hair. All we could think of doing was run, for we were so small. Fortunately, the man got back in his car without incident. Like you, my sister was fortunate. I don't think I'd call it luck. I'll appeal to a higher power.
Before I got married, I heard too many stories from women I dated of molestation and rape. The number of woman this happens to is greater than most think. This is a testament to the fact that we not only need to make our children aware of such dangers, what to look for and what to do, but that we need to get on our knees and pray for the protection of all innocents. God bless, and in this case you certainly were ;=)
» left by brianna popsickle (192 days 18 hours ago.)
Thanks Jeff, I appreciate your comments. You're right. It wasn't just luck, someone was watching over us that day.
Hi Brianna, I think God gave you the courage to into that garage after your friend. We are so easily smitten as kids, I hope as parents of young ones read this they will take some time to share this story with thier children to remind them to stay away from strangers even when they "know" the parents.
Excellent job - retelling and warning. Blessings to you!
Very scary event for you and your friend. I agree with Teresa it is a great story to pass on to others with small children in the hopes someone will be saved fro something bad happening.
» left by Brianna Popsickle(1,714) Brianna Popsickle (192 days 15 hours ago.)
Thanks for you comment Linda. I hope this article prompts some discussion between parents and their children.
Definitely a chilling reality Brianna. I too believe that God protected you and Rachel and I am glad you told someone and your story. I pray it will help and save some other children.
I had a similar experience as a young child (probably around the age of 6), where I refused to "play Dr." with an older male child and his much older male uncle. To this day, I've pondered how I "KNEW" that what they wanted was bad & I "KNEW" it was very important to get away from them (and I did). I have a number of friends who had no such internal warning at a young age and their outcomes were tragic. As Jeff said, I believe it was protection for some reason from the Higher Power. I am very grateful! Your story is stunning it it's simplicity and power.
» left by Brianna Popsickle (191 days 23 hours ago.)
It's amazing to see the response I've been getting from people who have had similar stories to share. I'm glad you were kept from harm in the situation you described. Thanks for sharing your experience Jean, and for your comments.
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