When I was fourteen, my mom and I took a Greyhound bus up to eastern North Carolina to visit her brothers and a sister who were still living there. Out in the woods I found a land turtle. My mom said I couldn’t keep it.My sneaky aunt, though, helped me by punching holes in a cigar box and making a nice nest for it inside. I hid the box by covering it with a sweater, then putting a Reader’s Digest on top to hide the rectangular shape.
I sneaked it onto the bus and kept the sweater draped over my arm. Mom kept asking me, “Why don’t you put on your sweater? Aren’t you cold?” “No,” I said. (I was freezing on the A/C bus.)
After awhile, we had to get up to change busses. The box slipped out of my grasp and landed on the floor, popping open and revealing the turtle. “Where did that turtle come from?” Mom asked. “WHAT turtle?” I said.
When I was fourteen, my mom and I took a Greyhound bus up to eastern North Carolina to visit her brothers and a sister who were still living there. Out in the woods I found a land turtle. My mom said I couldn’t keep it.My sneaky aunt, though, helped me by punching holes in a cigar box and making a nice nest for it inside. I hid the box by covering it with a sweater, then putting a Reader’s Digest on top to hide the rectangular shape.
I sneaked it onto the bus and kept the sweater draped over my arm. Mom kept asking me, “Why don’t you put on your sweater? Aren’t you cold?” “No,” I said. (I was freezing on the A/C bus.)
After awhile, we had to get up to change busses. The box slipped out of my grasp and landed on the floor, popping open and revealing the turtle. “Where did that turtle come from?” Mom asked. “WHAT turtle?” I said.
She let me keep it. She was great that way.