JOURNAL ENTRY: THE SHERIFF SHOWED 2026

 

She was below me now on the downside of the hill and peering through what foliage she could.  At first, I caught the glimpse of a shiny reflection and then she poked it through into the arena of my hidey hole.  Then when her kind voice failed and she could not locate me.  Her rage took her over and she slashed as much of the thicket as she could assault while screaming, “I will kill you.”  Then a voice came out and over her rantings and that saved my life that day.  A deep resonating voice that sounded edgy like Johnny Cash and had a rasp to it with layers of unpredictable expectations said, “Glenda”.  She froze and was looking around with her eyes and not moving her head.  She seemed to be contemplating whether it would be wise to step into the underbrush and hide.  Had she done that she inadvertently would have found me.  Then that older mans voice said, “I can see you” and Glenda’s face had a surge of rage cross it to where for a moment I felt that she would attack whoever was speaking.  She dropped the knife and stepped back and straightened her clothes and then said, “Sheriff”.  In the kindest voice I had heard from her in a long time.  He said in a whimsical tempo like a rhythm you would find in some old western where the elder in a town calmy settled people down.  It reminds me now of the sheriff in the 1974 movie entitled ‘the trial of Billy Jack’ where the sheriff walks out and begins to say the names of each of these young men to encourage them to stop being violent.  In that movie that sheriff’s voice and recognition carried a great deal of authority.  In this moment with my mother, she felt compelled to follow what this man was requesting.  She walked over to him, which was a distance to transverse since she had to walk around the thicket I had fallen into and then up the hill two small hills to reach where he was standing.  He was in front of the gray metal building which had been a sewing shop for pillows back in the 1950’s Glenda had once said.  Nana was standing behind this man, and I could just see part of her clothing.  It was a windy day, and her dress had billowed and caught my eye.  Then the man who had a badge on his shirt and a holster on his hip waved his hat at Glenda and ushered her back toward the front of the house.  I was exhausted and fell asleep.  I am not sure how long I slept or if it was the next day that I was chasing kittens around.  I had always wanted my own cat, but we couldn’t have one due to allergies.  I am not sure why this is layered this way.  In two separate incidents eyes became a focal point and that staggering of events as they connect in a death scene and then a near death scene seems to be theme relation more than a physical correlation.