"A Backward High" by David Inserra

 –He called me scaredy pants.

Move, stop, and swing. Over and over.

David Inserra lives on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina with his wife Ellen Titus and their dog, Mindy. David’s most recent work appears in the PSPP release, Now or Never. He is a member of the Island Writers Network and works at the local Unitarian Church. David’s first novel, a speculative thriller titled “In Your Own Backyard,” is currently being queried to agents. He is also a musician who has written over 400 songs, most being about his wife. Visit davidinserra.weebly.com.

Author’s Talk

David Inserra

Childhood imagination can urge little minds onto adventure. How many times have you seen a child play with the box that contained the gift instead of playing with the gift itself? Other times, imagination can bring about foolhardy actions that could be dangerous. Once, when I was little, I had the brilliant idea to slip inside my toy box, close the lid, and play an exciting game of caves. The walls closed in on all sides. I reached high and pounded on the cover, looking for a way out. I imagined the surrounding rocks closing in, maybe from a cave-in, maybe from an attack. While seeking freedom and a release, it hit me. Overwhelming exhaustion. I yawned. My eyes became jumpy. Then they closed. As I lay there, a deep, dreamless sleep overtook me. 

The next thing I remember was seeing my dad standing over me. He shook me by the shoulders. Over and over, trying to rouse me. Later, from what my parents told me, they searched the house for hours before finding me unconscious in the toybox. 

I don’t recall if my brother, Steve, ever did anything so stupid. He is two years older than me. We are as different as all the cliches you can think of. My brother went into the Marines when he got older, and later, he became a cop. I formed a band and wrote stories. Even though we have taken different paths in life, we love each other and if needed, we would be there for each other. 

This personal story is about a childhood adventure in New Jersey. My dad got transferred to Philadelphia. Mom and Dad built their dream house in Jersey and we moved south from New England. Everything was great. We often had family nights like the one relayed in this story. Out behind the Strable School, we enjoyed the annual carnival, the rides, and each other. These outings were always a blast, that is, until the time that I rode the Ferris Wheel, and my imagination got the best of me. 

This story is dedicated to Steve, who, even after all these years, still likes to call me scaredy pants. 

Thanks to Randell and his team at Daniel Boone Footsteps for bringing so many wonderful writers to the world.