The Man in the Orange Jeep

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         Debbie was bored. She could hear the excited shouts of the boys playing outside and she wished she could go out and join their game. Instead, she was stuck in the house playing dolls with April. It's not that she minded playing dolls, really, but she liked tag better.

         "It would be safer if you played indoors right now," Debbie's mother had said. "You could get lost out there, and the boys are so much older than you are.  You could get hurt." Debbie's mother was probably right. It had been a three-hour trip up into the mountains to get to the Swisher's house, and the mountains were no place for a three-year old child to be wandering off alone.

         Debbie's little brother Andy had finished his bottle and gone to sleep in the playpen when Mrs. Swisher announced that lunch was almost ready. "Who wants to go call the boys?" she asked.

         "I'll get them! I'll get them!" Debbie cried. The 3-year old girl with blond curly pigtails headed toward the back door with excitement. Her older brothers had played tag all morning. Now she wanted a turn.

         "Come right back," Debbie's mother said as the screen door opened with a creak. "Tell them to head up to the house in five minutes.

         "OK, Mommy," she said, letting the screen door shut with a bang.

         Debbie smiled as she ran across the yard toward the valley. She could hear the boy's' voices getting louder and louder as she got closer. Looking down into the valley she finally saw them. It looked like so much fun. She ran down the hill as fast as she could to join their game. The flat area of the valley closed in by the hills on each side was the perfect place to play.

         "What do you want?" Debbie's oldest brother demanded.

         "Aren't you supposed to be in the house playing with your dollies?" her other brother teased.

         "Mommy sent me to call all of you for lunch. She said five minutes," Debbie stated.

         "Fine, we'll be there in five minutes. Now go away and let us finish our game," they said.

         "I can play too!" Debbie cried.

         "Just once. And we are all 'it' and we have to chase you!"

         Debbie's brothers and their friends started chasing her around the valley. It didn't take long for the older boys to catch up with her. "Tag! Gotcha!" one of the boys cried out as he touched Debbie on the shoulder.

         Debbie pouted. "You never let me play long!" she protested.

         "We didn't say we'd let you play long. We just said once!" they said. "Now go back to the house and leave us alone."

         Debbie crossed her arms and sighed. As she walked away the boys resumed their game without paying any attention to what she was doing. The little girl stopped and looked around. Both hills sloping down to the valley looked the same to her. The game of tag had gotten her all turned around and she didn't know which way to go.

         "They didn't tell me not to go this way," she thought as she continued up the hill. Debbie walked and walked. The voices of the boys at play faded behind her. "I wish I could play more tag," Debbie thought on her way up the hill. She thought it was much more fun than playing dolls. She hoped that after lunch her mother would let her play outside instead of inside.

         Debbie walked on and on, lost in thought about playing outside after lunch. She could no longer hear the voices of the boys playing tag so she stopped and looked around. Where was the house? There was nothing in sight but trees and shrubs!

         Looking up, Debbie could see the cloudy sky through the treetops. Turning in a circle, nothing looked familiar. "How will I get back?" the little girl wondered. Debbie continued walking. The forest grew thicker and thicker.

         "Ouch!" Debbie cried, scraping her arm on a thorny bush. Pushing the bush out of the way she continued on. Thorny bushes covered the forest floor and Debbie had to push her way through them to get anywhere. Tears filled her blue eyes as the thorns cut her skin and pulled her hair.

         Finally the bushes gave way and Debbie burst out of the forest into a clearing. She looked around, surprised. There was a steep hill in front of her and a paved road beyond that. For a long time Debbie walked on the top of the hill along the road. It was quiet except for the wind and the birds in the trees. No cars passed in either direction. "How will I ever get home?" Debbie asked herself.

         Debbie looked down at her scratched and bleeding arms. She was starting to get cold. The clouds that blocked the sun looked like they might bring rain. Goose bumps appeared on her skin as the first drops of cool spring rain began to fall. Debbie wasn't sure if it was really rain or if it was her tears. She sat down against a tree trunk and put her head in her arms. She was tired and hungry. All she wanted to do was find her way home, even if she had to stay inside all afternoon and play dolls. Anything would be better than being lost.

         The mist in the mountain air made it even colder. Debbie got up and continued walking, following the road. Intent on where she was going, Debbie didn't see the gnarled tree root sticking up in front of her. Her foot struck the root and she tripped and fell, tumbling down the hill towards the road. Rocks and bushes scratched and bruised the little girl as she rolled across them. When she finally stopped, she sat for a moment, dazed. "I'll never get back!" she worried. She wondered if her family knew she was gone.

         Brushing the leaves from her clothes and pulling the twigs from her hair, Debbie continued to follow the road. Her legs got weaker and weaker and her feet felt as heavy as bricks. Just when she thought she couldn't take another step, Debbie heard the sound of a vehicle on the roadway. "Maybe I should hide," she thought, frightened. She tried her best to find a bush, but none were big enough and they all had sharp thorns. Debbie continued walking, picking her way between the thorn bushes. The sound of the car grew louder and louder until she could see the car coming around the curve in the road behind her. It was an orange Jeep.

         Debbie continued walking. She didn't know anyone with an orange Jeep. It wasn't her parents or her friends coming to look for her. Tears filled the little girl's eyes as she continued walking. The orange Jeep slowed down as it got closer and it finally passed her. Looking ahead she saw it stop and back up.

         A tall man with dark hair got out of the orange Jeep. "Hey," he said kindly, "what are you doing out here all alone?"

         Debbie tried hard not to cry. "I'm lost," she said softly.

         The man from the orange Jeep came closer. He took off his jacket and put it around the little girl's shivering shoulders. "Here, Sweetie. Let's get you warmed up."

         Debbie tried to smile, but she was so tired. She looked down at the jacket around her. There was a patch with a fish on it sewn on to the left front and some writing around that.

         "Where did you come from?" the man from the orange Jeep asked.

         Debbie thought for a minute. She was in the valley with the boys, and then she walked through the woods. She had walked along the hill above the road for a long time before she had tripped over the tree root. But none of those things would help the man in the orange Jeep find her parents. Finally she remembered something. "I was at the Swisher's," she offered.

         "Hmmm," the man said, rubbing his mustache. "I think I might know where you mean." The man helped Debbie up into the orange Jeep and fastened the seat belt around her. Then he got in behind the steering wheel and started the engine. "All set?" he asked? Debbie nodded wearily. The man guided the orange Jeep into a U-turn and headed back up the road from where he had come.

         Along the way the man talked about many things to make the little girl more comfortable. "I work at the fish hatchery, where fish are born" he said. "That's why there's a picture of a fish on my jacket."

         Debbie looked from the man to the patch on the jacket that was still around her shoulders and nodded.

         "You walked a long way today, Sweetie," the man said. Again Debbie only nodded.

         Soon the man turned the Jeep into a gravel driveway that was marked with a large sign. The fish on the sign was the same as the fish on the man's jacket. "Is this where the fish are born?" Debbie asked, a little excitement coming to her voice.

         "Yes, it is. This is where I work," the man said. "I was on my way home when I saw you." The man got out of the orange Jeep and came around to unfasten the seatbelt. Then he picked the little girl up in his strong arms and carried her inside the hatchery office.

         "What are you doing back already?" another man asked from behind a desk. "And who do we have here?"

         The man from the orange Jeep set Debbie on the desk. "I found this little one wandering alongside the road. She said she was at the Swisher's," he explained. "The name sounded familiar so I brought her back here to see if anyone might know more about them and where they live."

         "I recall that name, too. Here," he said, tossing a small phonebook to the man from the orange Jeep, "you look in here and I will look through the card file in the drawer." Debbie sat on the desk wrapped in the man's jacket. She still felt cold and tired.

         "I found them!" both men exclaimed at about the same time.

         Soon the man from the orange Jeep was talking on the telephone. "No, don't worry," he said. "I know how to get there and I'll bring her right over."

         Turning to Debbie he said, "You're not lost anymore, Sweetie! I found your folks."

         Tears filled the little girl's eyes as she thought about her family. She thought she would never see them again. The man from the orange Jeep held out his arms and Debbie climbed into them. She put her head down on the man's shoulder as he carried her toward the door.

         "Bye, Cutie," the man behind the desk said. Debbie waved to the man as the man from the orange Jeep carried her out the door.

         "Would you like to see where the fish are born?" the man from the orange Jeep asked when they got outside. Debbie nodded. She was tired and anxious to get back to her family, but she was also interested in the fish.

         The man carried Debbie over to an area where there were several large rectangular pools, one right next to the other. "This is where the newborn fish are kept," the man said, putting Debbie down so she could have a closer look. Debbie smiled as she saw all of the tiny little fish swimming around in the water of the pool.

         The man took her hand and led her to the next pool. "These fish are a little bit older." Debbie looked in the water and saw bigger fish. The man from the orange Jeep led her from one pool to the next. Each pool had bigger and bigger fish in it. The last pool had fish in it that were as long as Debbie's arm!

         "Wow!" she said. "These are big fishes!"

         The man from the orange Jeep smiled. "When they get to be this size we let them go in the rivers and streams so there are fish for people to catch when they go fishing."

         "I've never gone fishing," Debbie said.

         "Well, maybe some day your Daddy will take you fishing and you might catch one of these fish," he said. The man from the orange Jeep held out a cup to the little girl. "It's fish food," he explained. "Take a few pieces and toss them into the pool and see what happens."

         Debbie reached into the cup and took a few of the brown pellets and threw them into the water. Immediately the water in the pool started to bubble and churn as the fish tried to swim over top of each other to get to the food first! Debbie giggled with delight and reached for more of the fish food pellets. The man from the orange Jeep smiled.

         When all of the food was gone, the man from the orange Jeep said, "I guess we had better be getting you back to your folks."

         Debbie smiled. "I liked seeing the fish," she said. She reached up and took his hand and they walked back past all of the pools.

         "You sure are a smart little girl," the man from the orange Jeep said. "I would not have known what to do if you hadn't remembered the name of your friends!" He picked her up and gently deposited her in the seat of the orange Jeep.

         Debbie reached out and gave the man a hug. "Thank you for finding me," she said softly.

         The man smiled back at her. "I'm glad I did find you," he said with relief, thinking of all of the terrible things that could have happened to a small child lost in the mountains. "I'm glad I found you."

         It didn't take long for the man to drive the orange Jeep to the Swisher's home. As the orange Jeep pulled into the driveway Debbie saw her mother come out the front door.

         "We were so worried about you," she said, hugging her daughter.

         "We didn't know what happened to you," her father said.

         Debbie's parents thanked the man in the orange Jeep over and over again for finding their daughter. "What would we have done if you had not come along when you did?" they asked.

         The man in the orange Jeep just smiled. "I am glad I could help," he said sincerely. Looking at his watch he said, "I'd better be getting home now before my wife thinks I got lost!"

         Debbie took the man's jacket from around her shoulders and handed it up to him through the door of the orange Jeep. He reached down and tugged her pigtails playfully. "Good-bye Sweetie," he said with a smile. "You can come back and see the fish anytime!"

         "Thank you," Debbie said with a smile.

         With a smile and a wink, and one last wave of his hand, the man in the orange Jeep backed out of the driveway and was gone.

         Debbie never saw him again, but she always remembered the man in the orange Jeep. He lives somewhere in her heart and in her memories.  He was her real-life childhood hero. Thanks, man in the orange Jeep, wherever you are.

         PERSONAL NOTE: This short story is based on an actual event that took place in the late 1960's or early 1970's in Colorado. The little girl in the story is now the 40-year old author of this story. Do you know the man in the orange Jeep? Are YOU the man in the orange Jeep? Wherever you are, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are still my hero, even today. 

         Love and Best Wishes, Deb