Mute Girl Ran To Scary Biker At Walmart Because She Knew His Secret
At Walmart, the silent six-year-old girl rushed into the enormous biker’s arms and began to sign something frantically as tears streamed down her cheeks.
As other customers fled in terror, I saw this huge, tattooed man wearing a Demons MC vest start signing back to her with ease and surprisingly graceful hand movements.
The girl, who was little more than forty pounds in weight, was clinging on the eerie-looking motorcyclist as if he were her lifeline, her tiny hands flying through gestures that I couldn’t make out.
The biker’s expression then shifted from worry to outright anger, and he got to his feet while still clutching the youngster close to his breast and looking around the store with violently promising eyes.
“This child was brought here by whom?” His voice reverberated across the aisles as he yelled. “HER PARENTS ARE WHERE?”
The girl signed feverishly once again as she pulled on his vest.
He signed something back, glanced down at her, and his expression darkened more than I had ever seen a human face do.
It dawned on me then that this young girl had not approached him at random.
She knew something about this biker that no one else in that store could have predicted since she had seen his vest and the patches.
Something that would soon reveal the true reason she was frantically turning to the most frightening-looking person she could see for assistance.
As I saw this scene play out, I froze. In some way, the motorcyclist, who was easily 6’5″, 280 pounds, and had arms like tree trunks, was conversing with this small youngster in sign language.
Without asking, he told me to call 911.
“Now. Inform them that a child has been abducted from the Walmart on Henderson.
“How do you know—”‘
“Give a call!” After yelling, he instantly lowered his voice and signed something to the female, which caused her to nod enthusiastically.
While the biker brought the child to customer service, I struggled for my phone. His brothers from the MC, four more giants in leather, formed a protective wall around them.
As her story spilled out of her fingertips, the girl continued to sign.
For the store manager and the assembling audience, the biker provided translation.
Lucy is her name. She can’t hear. Three days ago, she was removed from her Portland school.
Although he spoke steadily, I could hear the barely contained rage in his voice.
She can read lips, but the folks who took her are unaware of this. In the parking lot, she could hear them haggling over her sale. $50,000. To someone with whom they will be meeting in an hour.
My blood froze. The manager paled.
Someone questioned, “How does she know to come to you?”
A second patch, a little purple hand emblem, was visible beneath the Demons MC logo when the biker slightly drew back his vest.
“I work as a sign language instructor at the Salem deaf school. For fifteen years. The sign was familiar to Lucy. In the deaf community, it signifies “safe person.”
This motorcyclist was a teacher, and he looked scary.
Lucy quickly signed as she pulled on his vest once again. His expression changed.
“They’re here,” he said in translation.
The man in the blue shirt and the woman with the red hair. By the drugstore.
Everyone pivoted.
A couple who appeared normal were approaching us; their expressions changed from bewildered to frightened upon seeing the gathering, the motorcyclists, and Lucy in the giant’s embrace.
The woman exclaimed, “Lucy!” with a false sense of sweetness.
“There you are, my love! Visit Mommy!
With her entire body trembling, Lucy buried her face in the biker’s chest.
In a casual yet calculated move, the biker brothers blocked all exits.
The couple continued to move forward while trying to appear normal.
The man attempted to assert his authority by saying, “That’s our daughter.”
She exhibits problematic behavior. Sometimes it runs off. I appreciate you locating her.
The biker answered coolly, “Really?” “You can then give me her last name.”
The pair looked at each other. “Lucy Mitchell Mitchell.”
Lucy was feverishly signing. The motorcyclist gave a nod.
Lucy Chen is her name. Portland natives David and Marie Chen are her parents. Purple is her favorite color.
Mr. Whiskers is the name of her cat. And you are going to remain motionless until the police come,” he said, pointing to the couple.
There were loud noises as the man reached into his jacket.
At simultaneously, four bikers moved. Before he could remove whatever he was reaching for, the man was on the ground, face down.
The woman attempted to run but was stopped after only three steps by another rider who crossed her arms and simply stepped in front of her.
“Please,” she began to sob. “We were only contracted to deliver. Nothing is known to us.
The biker snarled, “You knew enough to rob a deaf child from her school.”
Lucy was pointing to the woman’s purse while signing once again.
“She says the woman has her medical bracelet in there,” the biker reported. The one with her parents’ contact details and the statement that she is deaf.
With lights blazing, six police units arrived in force. After giving the bikers a quick glance, the lead police reached for his firearm.
“Don’t move!”
The store manager interrupted abruptly, “Officer.” “This child was saved by these men.” They are heroes.
Sorting it out took an hour. The pair, whose names were obviously phony, had been involved in a trafficking organization that preyed on disabled children in the hopes of controlling them more easily.
They hadn’t anticipated Lucy’s brilliance, keen observation, and good fortune in identifying the only rider within a hundred miles who could relate to her.
I saw the biker hold onto Lucy until her biological parents showed up.
Playing patty-cake with her, he had her laugh through her tears while he sat on the manager’s office floor, a mountain of leather and tattoos.
Three hours later, after driving like crazy from Portland, Lucy’s parents finally arrived home to find their daughter dozing in what appeared to be their worst nightmare.
“Good fortune!” Her mom broke down in tears.
Everyone in the room was moved by Lucy’s happiness when she woke up and saw her parents.
However, she turned to the biker and signed a long document before rushing to them. After signing back, he nudged her in the direction of her parents.
The reunion exceeded all expectations. Lucy signed so quickly that her parents could hardly keep up, and there were tears and hugs.
Then her father, David, came up to the biker. She claims that you are her hero. claims that when no one else could understand her, you did.
The motorcyclist, who was obviously uncomfortable with compliments, remarked, “Just lucky I was here.”
“Fortunate?” Despite her tears, Marie, David’s mother, chuckled.
“Are you a sign language instructor who also belongs to a motorcycle club and was shopping when our daughter managed to get away from her captors?”
The other rider said, “God works in mysterious ways.”
At that moment, Lucy’s parents saw the purple hand patch the motorcyclist had previously displayed.
Tank Thompson, Marie exclaimed. “The ASL textbook, “Signing with Strength,” was written by you. Lucy has been gaining knowledge from your videos.
Tank, which was presumably his name, reddened. The fact that a mother recognized his educational effort made this giant, who had recently defeated slave traffickers, blush.
David exclaimed in astonishment, “That’s why she ran to you.” She knew who you were from the videos. She keeps bringing up the “funny signing man,” which is you.
Lucy was putting on Tank’s vest and signed once more. His laughter was deep and booming.
He explained, “She wants to know if she can have a motorcycle vest like mine.” “But purple.”
“Definitely not,” Marie began, then paused. Actually, what do you know? Indeed. Anything she want.
After what I had seen, I was unable to shop anyplace else, so I returned to that Walmart two weeks later.
The entry was a flurry of activity. Engines rumbling, the Demons MC had rolled up, twenty of them.
A little pink bicycle with training wheels was being escorted by them. Lucy was on it, dressed in a purple leather vest that had the purple hand emblem on the front and the words “Honorary Demon” on the back.
Her parents were laughing and crying as they followed her as she pedaled through the parking lot, Tank sprinting next to her and writing directions.
The staff of the store came out to observe. Consumers paused and gazed.
Twenty of the state’s scariest-looking men, who have all learned basic sign language in the two weeks after the event, are protecting this little deaf kid.
Lucy halted her bicycle in front of the shop and gave Tank a signature. He spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear his translation:
She claims that she was courageous in this situation. where, despite not speaking, she discovered her voice. where she discovered that fairy tale heroes don’t necessarily resemble princes.
She then added something that caused Tank to cry.
She also expresses gratitude to the angel who showed her that demons might serve as guards.
Lucy Chen’s courage in running to a biker whose instructional videos she recognized led to the dismantling of the trafficking ring three months later and the recovery of fourteen children.
Tank continues to teach at the school for the deaf. However, he now has a helper in the form of a young girl wearing a purple vest who assists in demonstrating signs and serves as a reminder that communication is more than just talking.
The goal is to be heard.
And occasionally, being heard entails sprinting into the arms of a man clad in leather and skulls.
You see, below all of that, is a person who learned to speak without words for fifteen years in order to give children like you a voice in the void.
The deaf school is presently sponsored by the Demons MC. Every year, they hold rides to generate funds for translators and equipment.
One young girl reminded twenty motorcyclists that power is more than just muscle, so they learnt sign language.
It’s about comprehension. Connection is key.
When someone needs to be heard, even if they are mute, it’s about being present.
Lucy continues to go to school wearing her purple vest. Other children have begun requesting them.
Deaf youngsters can now learn sign language and self-defense from bikers under the “Little Demons” program.
All because a six-year-old girl realized that the person with the scariest appearance in Walmart would be the most secure person for her to turn to.
She was also correct.
In the clubhouse, Tank’s thank-you card is mounted. It reads simply and has unsteady letters in purple crayon:
“I appreciate you listening to me when I was unable to speak.”
She added the following below it in pictures in sign language:
“Leather is also worn by heroes.”
Yes, Lucy, they do. Yes, they do.
