“What do you mean, this is your second time in third grade?”
I was sitting next to my new friend Steve on the school bus riding home.
“Yeah, I didn’t have good enough grades to graduate, so here I am,” Steve said.
“That sucks.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna be a blacksmith like my dad. I don’t need school to do that.”
The bus came to a halt. “This is my stop. See ya tomorrow,” Steve said.
I felt terrible for him, it must be embarrassing. The bus arrived at my stop, I got off and headed for home. I was still getting used to the half mile trek. About halfway, I noticed something in the middle of the road. It was a dead animal.
A strange sweet smell was in the air, but not a good sweetness. It was awful. I also heard buzzing… Bees! I didn’t want to be stung by all the bees swarming over the carcass. Our road was very narrow, and I had to get around them.
Then I had an idea. I walked down the road a bit, turned back toward the dead animal and ran as fast as I could. I stopped short! No good. I couldn’t get past it. I tried again. Still, no luck! I gave up, sat down on the edge of the road, and put my head in my hands, sobbing. I’m not sure how long I sat there. I didn't notice Mom approaching.
“Scott! What’s wrong?” Mom’s pretty face was marked with concern.
“Look!” I said, pointing at the carcass.
“I was worried sick. I thought maybe a car ran you over.”
“I can’t get past that thing. It stinks, and there are bees everywhere.”
She smiled at me. “Honey, they’re not bees, just flies. It smells because it’s dead and rotting.” Mom walked over to the side of the road and picked up a long stick. She reached for my hand. “Come with me.”
We walked toward the animal. Mom put her arm around me and held me close. “These aren’t bees. They won’t sting you.” She poked the animal with the stick and turned it over. Little white things were squirming around in a viscous fluid.
“Mom, that’s gross, and it really smells.”
“They’re maggots. When an animal dies, they appear and eat the dead flesh. They hatch into flies, and that’s the buzzing you hear. Eventually, the dead animal will disappear and turn to dust.”
“Does that happen to us when we die?”
“Yes, it does, but only to our bodies. Our souls go to heaven and live with God. There’s nothing to be afraid of here, Scott.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s move it to the side of the road so you won’t see it every day, okay?”
I often think about how Mom helped me on this day and how hard it must have been for her. She had no experience with country living and did not really want to be in Quakertown in the middle of nowhere. I still find it amazing how she was able to deal with a dead rotting animal with maggots. I feel fortunate that I have examples of my mother’s exceptional care for me.
“Let’s go home.” Mom reached for my hand, and we walked together back to our house.
This is a scene from my upcoming book Motorcycle Stories - Finding forgiveness on the open road. It is the story of Scott, a young timid boy saving up and buying a motorcycle that becomes his lifelong love. He and his best friend Ross take motorcycle trips around the northeastern U. S. where Scott faces his fears and comes to grips with his drug addicted and abusive mother. For more about the book, please see https://www.scottocamb.com/ and subscribe to my Substack to stay informed about the book’s launch this fall.
Dead Animal in the Road
Good mom!
God bless moms, our first teachers. Sometimes they are right on, sometimes they fail. As a mother who failed so many times myself, I know. It is all learning. Are we starting from chapter one in a couple of months?