“Hello, little one.” said Mr.CC. “What are you doing up there?” His henchmen looked up, studied me, scoped out their chances- and smiled. I didn’t blame them- a 15 year old, dressed in riding breeches and a tee shirt, sitting in a tree must be like a day off to them. But they didn’t raise their guns to shoot- instead they glanced at their leader to see what he would do. He placed his hands in the pockets of his pants, strolling casually over to my tree.
“G-g-Go away!” I stuttered. My body was drenched in sweat, I moved farther up the tree, eyeing the guns nervously.
“Why, child, why are you so afraid? What makes you think I’m planning to hurt you?” I bristled. Little one? Child? He didn’t look much older that 21! And his question was absurd. I forgot my fear for a minute and spat back sarcastically:
“Well, for starters, you’ve got about 17 guy pointing guns at me!”