Children's Stories
They're NOT Real!
A true story . . . by Tilly Dorsey
Having positioned themselves in the middle of the pen, just outside the reach of grasping hands, the two alpacas lay quietly side-by-side. Their eyes were closed against the late afternoon sun, and as their lower jaws moved rhythmically back and forth, they seemed to be somewhere else, somewhere far, far away from the bustling Maryland Sheep and Wool festival.
All around the buzz of activity was punctuated by "Oh! Look at the llamas." "What’s an alpaca?" "Do they bite?" Crowds 2-3-4 people deep had surrounded the pen all day. Hands with fingers spread wide like tentacles had been constantly reaching out to "They're Not Real!" by Tilly Dorsey caress and stroke the soft fleece. We were exhausted by the unremitting onslaught of questions and nonstop calculations of sales tax for the fleeces, roving and yarn we sold in the adjoining booth, but while we continued to field all manner of inquires, the alpacas seemed to have retreated to some imaginary pasture in some other place.
As the multitude continued to flood our booth and press around the alpacas’ pen, a small boy about five years old wormed his way through a forest of adult-sized legs. He was covered with the grime of a day spent exploring the sheep pens and displays of the Festival. His T-shirt and shorts were decorated with smears of ketchup and dribbles of Coke. Tiny Nikes were covered with dust, as were his bare legs and arms. His mouth was surrounded by a sugary pink and blue ring – evidence of the copious consumption of cotton candy.
He came to position himself right in the middle of one side of the alpacas’ enclosure. Leaning forward, he pressed his face through the bars, sticky fingers grasping the rails. His expression vacillated from wide-eyed-amazement to squinty-eyed suspicion. His scrutiny continued for 15-20 minutes. As oblivious to the ebb and flow of the people around him as they seemed to be of him, he stood immobile, in deep concentration.
Then, his determination complete, he straightened as far as his small frame would allow, and with a scorching glare at the alpacas, he announced, with absolute conviction, to anyone who cared to listen, "They’re NOT real!"
As the startled crowd stared at the source of this proclamation, he turned on his heals and skipped away. Laughter followed his footsteps, but he was off to new adventures and did not even look back. If he had, he would have seen that the alpacas had gotten up, extended their long necks and were eagerly searching out-stretched hands for bits of grain and grass.
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