The wait is over. I was getting ready to help make supper when my dad walked over and said he wanted to talk to me. I knew it was going to be bad news. But, it wasn’t. He said that they talked it over and I could go on with the story tonight at the campfire. He said that I would have to do one thing before I could go on. I thought, oh great, here it comes.
He said that I would have to rate my story based on the following: If there was no blood or people getting hurt, it could have a general rating. That means everyone could sit and listen. If it did have people getting hurt or some kind of violence, then it would be a PG rating and mom would decide if the younger ones should listen or go back to our tent. If there were scary parts where people would get really hurt then it would be an R rating and the younger ones would not be allowed to stay and others might choose to leave as well. He said it was my choice and I could decide who I wanted to have at the fire to listen to my story.
I really had to think about that one. I wanted everyone to stay at the fire to hear it. I love telling stories. It is what I do best. I could beat everyone at storytelling. I would get an 'exceeds expectations' if they offered that class. That is probably the only way I would ever gets 'exceeds expectations'. This is the new way they try to make it sound better at school. At least the adults can fool themselves into thinking that. The kids know 'exceeds expectations' means an A and 'approaches expectations' is just another way of saying F. I think they use fancy words to make themselves feel better. Here I go again- off topic.
Anyway, I decided to go with the General rating. I want people to hear my story and I can still tell a great story without needing to use blood, guts and gore. I’ll come close but won’t cross the line.
I announced my rating before supper and began my plan to continue my story.
Everyone was ready and I gave a quick synopsis (like that word?) of what had happened so far.
Now for part 2:
He said again, “Yell and you will die.”
“Why do you want to hurt me?” I asked. “What have I done?”
“ I do not want to hurt you, I want to help you,” he said.
“ Help me! You sure have a funny way of helping. You grabbed my leg so hard you left marks. You hid from me and scared me half to death and then you prevented me from calling to my dad for help. Just how is that helping me?” I asked.
“I saved you when I grabbed your leg. If I had not been holding on to you and slowing you down, you would have been eliminated. (Like the way I avoided the word killed? I just used a fancy word like the adults. Got to admit it doesn’t sound as bad as murdered or killed but that is what it means and I don’t have to worry about my rating!) They lured you into the water and then tried to take you away. They need to eliminate you because you are a threat.”
“What are you talking about? Who is 'they'? (I had to use that because my English teacher is always saying that!) and how could I be a threat to anyone?”
“There are forces you do not understand. You are a threat because of your brains, not your size.”
“Well these “forces” must be dumber than I am because they certainly got the wrong one. If they think my brains are a threat, I would hate to see theirs.”
“They are extremely smart and they do not make mistakes,” he said. “You have something that is very valuable and a threat to them.”
“Come with me back to my campsite and then start from the beginning and tell me who you are and what is going on.”
“I can’t go with you to your campsite because it doesn’t exist,” he said.
Time is up and the younger ones have to go to bed. But, they voted to have me continue my story tomorrow night! I’ll be there!