Yellow Jackets

Anyone who knows me very well, knows that I don’t like bees, wasps, hornets, or anything that flies and stings. This distain for these creatures of Lucifer began at a very young age. I think the first time was when my brother Steven, his friend Joey, and I were whacking blackberry bushes behind our house. We were blazing a trail through the bushes leading into the forest. Steven was in front, Joey was behind him, as I trailed behind. I was in the middle of showing one of the branches who was boss when suddenly I found myself standing in a swarm of angry Yellow Jackets. Apparently they did not like that Joey had crushed their “Pad” and they were out for revenge. I knew I was in for a good time as soon as I felt 12 simultaneous stings from the tips of my toes to the back of my retinas. I sprinted home screaming as if I was being chased by a pride of hungry lions.

Those Yellow Jackets stung me 13 times. That was nothing compared the damage one Yellow Jacket would inflict two weeks before the start of ninth grade. My friend Jeremy and I were headed to his grandma’s house across town. He was on a faded Huffy his parents bought him in the sixth grade. I, on the other hand, looked like Lance Armstrong riding my older brother’s 21 speed “Sakai” mountain bike. I had full use of his bike as restitution for the blackberry incident, plus he was away with the scouts for the week which automatically also gave me permission to use all of his stuff.

His bike handled like a dream as I sped down the hills, racing around hairpin turns with the greatest of ease. I had my tape player hooked firmly to my fanny pack listening to “Ice, Ice, Baby”. With the wind blowing through my hair and Vanilla Ice blasting over my headphones, I pushed the bike to its limits. As I was enjoying the rush of adrenaline and exhilaration on the hot August afternoon ride, a bug hit me like a bullet in the chest. I looked down to see what had hit me when to my surprise I saw a raging Yellow Jacket lifting it’s stinger into position for his assault. In one fluid motion, I swatted the Yellow Jacket away with both hands.

“Whew… got it.”

With victory written on my face, I reached down just in time to see the handle bars turn 90 degrees.

“Ohh, fiddlesticks!” I profaned.

I snapped my eyes closed and clinched every part in my body bracing for the impact.

I hit the unforgiving pavement with full force. I felt the bare skin of my forearm grind against the hot asphalt. To avoid grinding my left arm off, I relaxed and began doing summersaults. As I wrapped up my Circ’ de sole act, Jeremy raced over to me.

“Are you okay!?!” he shouted.

“Uhhgg” I gasped in a failed attempt to speak while having the wind knocked out of me.

When I finally was able to speak, I told Jeremy that I didn’t think I would be able to finish the ride and that we needed to go back.

“Sorry Brandon, I told my grandma I would be there by five. See ya later, bye.” He said as he grabbed his bike and peddled off into the distance.

As I lay sprawled out across both lanes of traffic on the blind corner, praying a car would come and take me out of my misery, I saw two county workers standing around kicking rocks by a bridge at the bottom of the hill. I gathered myself and limped down to them. As soon as one of the workers saw my condition, he rushed over to assist me.

“Hey buddy, do you need help? I have a first aid kit in my truck. Let me go grab it.”

Just then the other worker shouted, “We don’t have time to play around. Let’s get this wrapped up so we can go home.”

I watched in disbelief as the Good Samaritan strolled away.

I took a moment to assess myself. I had two sprained wrists, a sprained ankle, a one inch gash on my forehead, and a shredded arm from my elbow to wrist. Knowing I was on my own, I started the long trek home.

Two hours later, I arrived back at home. As I stepped on the lawn, my knees buckled. Me and the bike fell to the ground having both sustained heavy damage. After a few moments, I looked down at my fanny pack. My tape player was gone!

“Great! What am I going to listen to MC Hammer on now?!?” I asked in exasperation.