A Moose Tale

     So, my father has a track-record of telling me interesting 'truths'. I now know better than to believe him, but when I was a very small child, I took everything he said as fact.

     I am here today to share with you one incident in particular.

     I was standing in the kitchen, around breakfast or lunch, and my father decided to share with me a Monty Python sketch. Now, keep in mind, I was around three at the time, and had never before seen the show. Even if I had, I cannot remember it, and it would not have made sense to me at the time.

     He turned to me from the stove, where he was cooking, and announced: 'A moose bit my sister once.'
I stared at him in confusion for a moment, but then the full force of what he had just said dawned upon me, and an expression of horror came over my face.

     I asked him if his sister was okay, but his only answer was to repeat the previous statement.
     Now, at the time, we had a small, glow-in-the-dark moose. Probably about 4-6 inches long.
     I quickly ran to our back garden, and buried aforementioned moose deep underground.

      {{ To be found several months later by my flower-planting mum: }}

     However, getting this frightening object off of my hands was not nearly enough to satisfy the trembling young child, now so mortally afraid of imminent moose attack. I ran to my room, which I shared with my older sister, and began building a 'contraption'. It took all of my father's sailing ropes, all of our leashes for stuffed dogs, a small metal pulley, bunks beds, and severe three-year-old genius.

     To this day, I know not how I managed to create a fully-functional system like it was. All I know is that it worked, and that I must be smarter when driven by horrible fear.

     The contraption spanned the entire room, and looped back around again several times, before ending at the top bunk; my sister's bed.
     I evidently trusted my sister with my life, and so I told her how the entire thing worked. She promised to stay up, and watch for any moose that might come near our room.

     How it actually worked was this: when you pulled on the final dog leash, that came up to my sister's bed, it knocked something on a piece of furniture over, and set in motion the rest of the contraption. It pulled upon another rope, which lead to another, and another, and so on, and so on. At some point, among all of this jumbled madness, one of the ropes crossed the door, near to the ground, like a trip-wire. {{ I still cannot believe I made this work. }}

. . .

     After dinner that night, I went to my room, exhausted. But I was soon wide awake again, when I saw the contraption, and remembered the moose that might be about.
Soon after that, yet more adrenaline was pumped into my bloodstream, as I had another scare.
     My mum came in to put my sister and me to bed, and she asked what the whole thing was about. When I explained to her that it was for catching moose, she laughed, and told me to take it down. I pleaded with her, on the verge of tears, to let me keep it up, if only for one night. {{ You see, one night s all it takes, when trapping moose. }} She finally conceded, and told me I could leave it there until morning, at which point I had to take it down, first thing.
     I gladly agreed, and went to bed. I whispered with my sister for a while, after mum left the room, going over the plan several times, to make sure she had it right. My sister was not afraid like I was, and just sighed tiredly around the fifth time through, saying she had it down, and that I could go to sleep.

     Now, at this stage in my life, my mum would read us stories and send us to bed. Then, a few hours later, when my parents went to sleep, my father would check on us before going to bed himself.
     So, as he did not come into my room before the time when he was actually checking on us, he had no idea that the 'moose-catching contraption' was in place.
     I know not why I awoke from my light, uneasy sleep several hours later, but when I did, it was in time to see an enormous shadow beginning to slide across my wall. Terrified, I whispered to my sister, desperate for something to save me from what I only assumed could be a moose. To my complete and utter horror, she had fallen asleep; she had betrayed me.

 

     My father must have stopped in the hallway, to talk to my mum before entering all the way, and this would be how I had time to get up to the top bunk, where the controlling pull was.
     I remember seeing the shadow pause, at which point I gathered all the courage I had, and leaped up the ladder, and under my sister's covers.

     I peered out, and waited. The shadow didn't move for a moment, until, suddenly, it was getting bigger. And closer. I had to concentrate hard in order to suppress the shriek building inside of me. Instead of shrieking, I waited until just the right moment. {{ In hind-sight, this was probably more luck than actual knowledge of good timing. . .}}
     I closed my eyes, and yanked on the rope as hard as I could. As I dove under my sister's blankets again, I heard a crash, a thump, and a man's voice saying something in a tone of surprise. I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, waiting, trying to hold my breath, and feeling my heart pound out a rhythm that was probably morse-code for: 'Bloody fascist moose! It wants to mess with me?! Let me see it try!! I AM SO SCARED!! I bloody hate moose! WHY DID MY SISTER BETRAY ME?! Bloody bloody bloody! GO HOME, MOOSE~! AaaaaAAaarrrghhhaaa!'

     Many years later, I found out that this moose was actually my father, and that I had tripped him. When I discovered that I had actually tripped him, and that my contraption had indeed worked, I couldn't help but feel at least a little bit smug:

 

To this day, I am still a little bit afraid whenever I hear the word 'moose'.

Thank you. xxx