Sheer Terror on My Street

Jesse in the Fullerton, CA apartment with all his toys.

When the kids were little, we lived in a three bedroom apartment in Fullerton, California on a tremendously busy four-lane street.  We were fortunate that there were other nice families, with small children for our kids to hang out with, in our apartment complex.

Late, one warm summer afternoon, the neighborhood kids had gathered for a huge game of hide and seek.  Beau who was 11, Sarah who was 6, and Jesse who was 18 months old were all outside in the front of our apartment.  They were involved in the community game.  As it started to get dark, I stepped outside to check on everyone.  I reminded Beau and Sarah that they needed to keep an eye on Jesse.

It dawned on me, just as I said it, that I could not actually see Jesse from where I was standing.  Feeling kind of panicked, I turned to Beau with a questioning look.  “Where’s your brother?”  I urgently asked.  He said, “Mom, he was right here a second ago.”  Completely alarmed now, I ask Sarah if she has seen him.  She told me that the last time she saw him was in the front yard.

My heart felt like it had exploded with fear.  I ran as fast as I have ever moved in my life to the front of the apartment complex.  Beau and Sarah were following close behind.  As I emerged from between the two buildings to the front of the complex, I spotted my tiny toddler just about to step off the curb.

He was standing between two cars that were parked along the road.  He had his tiny little left hand on the front bumper of one car.  He was moving down the curb like it was a giant step.  He was having a bit of trouble balancing and was still hanging onto the car.

I was still running at break neck speed.  I felt like I wanted to scream to him at the top of my lungs, so he would freeze in his tracks.  But I had no idea what startling him would do.  So, I urgently spoke to him in my most “you better mind me” mom voice, and said, “Jesse come here!” 

Jesse turned to look at me.  He saw that I was running.  Once he focused on me, a huge smile appeared on his face.  He assumed I was playing a game with him.  I could tell he thought I was going to chase him as I had so many times before.  My panic now raged.   He started laughing and turned away from me to run . . . straight into oncoming, rush hour traffic.  The speed limit was 40 miles per hour and the cars were flying by.  Dusk has set in and the drivers had their headlights on in order to see.

Jesse squealed his adorable little laugh and took off between the cars.  I continued running at him.  I honestly did not have any idea what I would do if and when I caught up to him.  He had no idea the danger he faced.

Just as he emerged from between the two parked cars and into the street, I reached him.  The drivers could see me running into the street but were unable to see Jesse because he was so much shorter than the cars that hid him.  The cars started honking at me; it was deafening.  The noise added to the confusion of my running at him and yelling for him to stop.  He started to turn back and I could see the look of terror on his face.  He knew something was very wrong.

At the exact moment that I got to him, I grabbed him under his armpits and swung him up and around trying to move both of us out of the street.  The car that was closest to us had nowhere to go. There were cars to his left and I believed he was going to hit us.  Jesse’s feet actually swung over the hood of the car as I lifted him out of the street.  The car missed us by only a few inches.

Jesse hung on to me for dear life and I clung to him out of sheer fear.  I stepped back between the cars and up onto the sidewalk.  I held him close.  As I looked back toward the building, I saw both Beau and Sarah standing there frozen in shock.  I cannot imagine what it would have been like if they had witnessed both their mom and little brother get hit by a car.

 

I quietly asked both of the older kids to follow me into the house.  We were quite a stoic bunch that evening.  Beau felt bad; blaming himself for the near accident.  However, I was not worried about blame at that moment.  I walked over to the couch, sat down, and held Jesse in my lap.  I held him tighter than I ever had.  I would not let him down for nearly an hour.  I sat there and sobbed as the trauma from the ordeal subsided from my body.  It truly was one of the scariest moments of my entire life.

Last week, I asked Jesse if he had any recollection of the event.  He said that since I had told the story before, he was familiar with it, but that he did not remember it firsthand.  I asked Sarah if she remembered her reaction to the event.  All she had to say to me, with a mischievous smile across her face, was, “Yeah, all I remember is . . . it wasn’t my fault.”  

(c) 2014 Diane C. LeJeune and Tribal Tales.  (c) 2014 Feeling Good Entertainment, LLC