Sandy Supposes....

Gorilla Goon

May 9th Prompt: Choose an event in your life that someone else remembers differently. Describe both memories and debate the differences. Who do you think is right? Why do you think you remember differently?

         Danielle surveyed the street fair from the safety and height of her mother's arms. She'd grown tired of toddling along with her right hand clasped in her mom's tight grip. From up here, she could see more than people's legs. Red, blue and yellow balloons swayed in the breeze. The sun warmed the back of her neck. Music blared and boomed. The crowds of walkers buzzed.

         A shadow approached Danielle blocking out the sun. Her eyes adjusted as a hairy hand reached out for her. She screamed as the rough hand grabbed her arm and tugged on it. In a wild panic, she shrieked and could only think of escape. Danielle scratched the arms cradling her as she fought to scrabble up and away. Still the hairy beast pulled at her. Danielle kicked and sobbed.

         I recall the lovely balmy afternoon my young family attended a nearby street fair. All the intersecting roads had been cordoned off to vehicle traffic and the three kids marvelled at strolling on the pavement. They were distracted by juggling clowns, floating balloons, strains of music from competing bands, crowds of bustling pedestrians and street vendors. One of the organizers asked my hubby to participate in a wee contest . I encouraged him to do it in the spirit of fun.

         Now you must be told and trust me to say that my spouse might possibly have the world's hairiest legs.Several people , men and women would be hidden behind a curtain with only their bare legs exposed to view. It seemed a harmless way to raise charity money and laughs. Someone could win the highly coveted award of The Hairiest Legs.I assured Paul he'd win this impromptu contest hands down. Why not use his obvious assets? We the spectators would be the unbiased judges. I'd recognize his legs anywhere.With a shrug, hubby went off to prepare for the friendly competition.

         Danielle and I were bopping to the offerings of a street band and laughing when a gorilla jumped in front of us. I may have gasped, but I knew a fake ape when I saw one. My three-year old daughter emitted earth-shattering screams and clawed at me. I struggled to hold onto her as she attempted to scrabble up my chest. Where did she hope to go? The gorilla insisted on touching my terrified child and initially, I shoved the creature away. A crowd of fair goers began to swarm us.

         In all that immediate commotion, I heard a familiar voice calling out the squirming bundle's name. I hissed at my partner to shut up and leave, but no, he had to continue his terrifying 'assault.' Danielle either could not hear him, or recognize her father's voice. A big, hairy ape meant to whisk her away from her mother.

         Knowing my husband to be the actual person inside the costume did not soften my urgent shoves. After what seemed like an eternity, Paul finally retreated. Danielle eventually calmed down. Her breathing slowed and her tears dried. She clung to me. My fresh scratches stung.

         I later learned that Paul had been recruited to act as a gorilla to drum up contestants for that hairy leg showdown.He assumed his own child would recognize his voice and he never dreamed she'd react as she did.

         When that contest began, the ape signalled to me with a come over here motion. Danielle went rigid in my arms and I shook my head. Even when he pulled that heavy head from his own noggin, Danielle wanted nothing to do with him. We kept a safe distance.

         Of course a three-year old panicked! She did not know a real gorilla from a fake one. My recall is that of a mother calming her child and a wife willing to bash her oblivious husband. Danielle does not seem to bear permanent scars. It's a fuzzy memory propped by our retelling of it.