Lightning at 200 Durham Street

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Lightning at 200 Durham Street Page 2

by Ron Finch

With that, everyone was out the door. The weekend beckoned.

  The assignment was a surprise. It was the first out-of-class field assignment that Mr. Graf had given us. As a matter fact, no other teacher had ever given us this type of assignment before. We were used to homework assignments based on textbook questions or readings, but this was new to us.

  “This almost makes me feel kind of grown up,” said Jay, excited. “It’s almost like an adventure.”

  “Don’t get carried away,” I said. “We’re not the Hardy boys. This is just another kind of homework.”

  “Hey Joel, you’ll enjoy this despite yourself,” said Jay.

  Most students have obligations after school. Chaseford is not that big a town – the population is still under 10,000 – so everybody either walks or bikes to school. Some kids from the country board in town during the week. Jay and I and our friends Georgie and Sylvia live in the same part of town, so we usually walk home together. It gives us time for chitchat.

  Jay and I are both 17. We both do well in school. The similarity ends there. Jay is a more outgoing person than I am. I have a medium build, with blond hair and blue eyes, and trying my best to be 6 feet tall. Jay is about 3 inches shorter than me. He’s also broader, stockier, and stronger. His black hair and brown eyes go well with his darker complexion. We’ve been best friends since I moved into the neighbourhood several years ago. We’re always joined on our walk home by our good friends Georgie Harkness and Sylvia Grayson. Georgie’s a tall girl with auburn hair. Sylvia is much shorter, maybe 5 foot 2, with blonde hair and brown eyes. The girls are both 16 years old. The four of us have been friends all through high school.

  I started today’s conversation by saying: “So, Jay, do you want to team up with me on this trig assignment?”

  “Sure,” said Jay. “Sometimes two heads are almost as good as one. Depending on who the heads belong to.”

  “That’s a pretty weak attempt at a joke,” said Georgie. “What assignment are you talking about?”

  Georgie lives just two doors down from me. Both of our families have lived on Durham Street for more than10 years. Georgie isn’t always on the best of terms with Jay. She’s told me a couple of times in the past that Jay thinks he’s smarter than the rest of us. But the real difference is that Jay is very confident and not very polite.

  “Mr. Graf gave us an assignment in class today,” I explained. “To use what we learned in trigonometry in a practical way. We have to determine the distance to a landmark without measuring it directly. Our first big problem is to decide what landmark to focus on. Once we decide that, we can do the measurements and complete the assignment.”

  “What do you mean by a landmark?” said Sylvia.

  “Just something that stands out on the horizon,” said Jay. “Something that people would notice as they walk or drive through town, or drive through the countryside. It could be the town hall, for example, which is the tallest building in town.”

  “Let’s not go with that,” I said. “Let’s try to find something a little more original. Any suggestions?”

  “Maybe the flagpole in front of the library?” said Georgie.

  “What about that real tall monument in the cemetery?” said Sylvia.

  We kicked the idea around some more as we covered the next three blocks, but nothing really seemed to stand out so we switched topics.

  “I’m probably going out to visit my cousins on Sunday afternoon,” said Georgie. “It’s not that far. They only live about 12 miles away, near Goshawk. Just on the south edge.”

  “You know, there’s a very large bush near there,” said Jay. “I have relatives out that way, too. They own some of that bush land.”

  “That’s kind of a scary bush,” said Georgie. “It’s very dense. There seems to be a hill in the middle of it with a big tree on it. The top of the tree stands above everything else.”

  “You know what?” Sylvia interrupted excitedly. “Maybe that big tree is a good thing to use in your assignment? I don’t imagine anybody else will think of it. Maybe you guys will get a bonus mark!”

  “Great idea! Let’s do it!” Jay and I said at the same time.

  Saturday, May 12

  EVERY SATURDAY, I WORKED in my parents’ grocery store. Franklin’s Groceries opened at seven in the morning and closed at six. I usually worked with my dad in the morning. That was our busiest time of the week. I got a lunch break from about noon until 12:30 while my dad served the customers. Then dad headed home for his lunch. My mom came in usually from 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM to help, then I was on my own until 6:00 PM, when I locked up.

  It wasn’t too bad. The mornings were usually very busy, with people getting ready for Sunday dinner and maybe company on Saturday night, as well as groceries for the week. Business usually died off about an hour after lunch time and by two in the afternoon things slowed down a lot. My mom mainly came in to check on me and see if there were any problems. My brother Ralph came in occasionally on Saturdays if we were really busy. Ralph was 12 years old and a very good athlete. Baseball took up most of his Saturdays during the summer, but he was gradually being introduced to the business.

  Our parents were really good to me, my younger brother Ralph, and my baby sister Emmylou, who was 8. They tried to think of everything. They’d set up a little cubicle in the store, at the end of the row of canned goods, where I could sit down and work on my homework on Saturday afternoons when business was slow. It was a great location because, if someone came in, I was facing the door. Of course, the rule was that I had to be on my feet as soon as I heard the bell ring that let us know the door had been opened. Then I was up and greeting customers with a smile. The smile was also a rule.

  That Saturday afternoon, just after my mom left, at about ten minutes after three, Jay came in for a visit. I wondered if he’d been watching the door, waiting for my mom to leave. I was happy to see him. Conversation with Jay beat working on my English essay.

  “Are you ready for a Hardy boy’s mystery?” he said.

  “What are you talking about, Jay?”

  “You know, the Trigonometry Bush Mystery.”

  I smiled. “You mean the Trigonometry Bush Misery?”

  Jay smiled at that. “We need to make plans for tomorrow afternoon if the four of us are going to go,” he said. “It’s a Sunday, so we’re going to have to be very persuasive. I told my parents how important the assignment is. I said your parents will probably okay our expedition, since it’s school related. My mom knows how important education is to your mom, Joel. And it’s supposed to be a beautiful afternoon. Maybe we can make a picnic out of it? I hope Georgie and Sylvia can come.”

  “That idea has good possibilities. There’s just one problem,” I said. “The location isn’t very handy.”

  “That’s not a problem,” said Jay. “If you get permission from your parents, my dad says he’s willing to take us out in the used car he bought last week. He’s pretty excited about it. It’s a 1925 Flint E 55. It was built in Flint, Michigan. Nice car with lots of room. It has a six cylinder Continental engine. New, they go for about 1200 bucks. I know that’s kind of expensive, but my dad got his for just a little under $600. I’m really hoping to drive it soon. Remember, I have relatives out there. I think my dad wants to show the car off to my uncle Herbert. My uncle owns part of that Bush the big tree is in.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Now it’s up to you to find out if Sylvia can go. Remember, Georgie’s supposed to be visiting her relatives out that way anyway, so maybe our plans will work out.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Jay.

  “I’ll get in touch with Georgie and you get in touch with Sylvia,” I said.

  We agreed to meet again that night at about 8 o’clock, after supper, to make sure we had everything we needed for the assignment, and to see if our plans had fit together. With that, Jay was out the door and on his way.

  That night, after supper, at about 7 o’clock, I went down the street and knocked on Georgie’s d
oor. I had a nice chat with her parents and then Georgie appeared. Georgie and I had been friends for a long time and her parents think I’m an okay kid. Actually, a ‘fine young man’, in their words. So they trust me.

  They talked a bit about the trip to their relatives out near Goshawk the next day and about the possibility of Georgie meeting us at Jay’s uncle’s farm. I told them a bit about the assignment and that we were hoping that we could make a picnic out of it, too. Georgie was excited. Her parents agreed that Georgie could go on the picnic with us. They said they thought our plan would work. Jay’s uncle Herbert’s farm was one concession from the road where Georgie would be visiting her relatives and was only about a mile away. The plan was for Georgie to use one of her cousins’ bikes and bike over to Herbert’s farm. She would meet us there at about 2:00 PM. So far so good.

  I went home.

  When Jay appeared at my front door, he was carrying some kind of angle measuring device. It was easy to tell that this was something that Jay had concocted, or, as he would say, ‘invented’. It was composed of a small protractor attached to a couple pieces of 1x2 about 2 feet long. He deserved credit for ingenuity, but the workmanship could be improved. In any case, it looked like it might work. Jay told me he had a big roll of rope at home. It was 300 feet long. He also had a couple of sturdy wooden stakes. Jay’s dad ran a small construction company and he’d agreed to supply the rope, the wooden stakes, and a small sledgehammer.

  “Did you find out if Sylvia could go?” I said.

  “Yeah. Her mom and my mom have been very good friends since high school, so she can go. As a matter of fact, she’s going to go in the car with us. Dad will pick her up.”

  I told Jay about Georgie and how she was getting there.

  Now our plan was in place. We would all meet at Herbert’s farm at 2 o’clock. We would head off from there to do the measurements and have a little bit of a picnic. It seemed like we were going to have a great Sunday afternoon.

  Sunday, May 13

  CHURCH AND SUNDAY SCHOOL were over. We made it home by 12:45, then we had a light lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers. Reheated meat pie and potatoes, followed by some early fresh strawberries from the back garden. It made for a delicious meal.

  Our garden was doing well. My brother Ralph and my sister Emmylou helped quite a bit. It was part of their after-school chores. It was a large garden for a town. We had a double lot, 132 feet wide by 166 feet deep. Our house, which was two stories plus, sat on one lot. The other lot was dedicated to the garden. This garden provided hours of entertainment for my younger brother and sister. The reward was lots of fresh vegetables and berries. We planted a little bit of everything in that garden, including a scarecrow.

  “What time are you going out this afternoon?” asked my dad.

  “I’m pretty sure Jay and his dad, and maybe Sylvia, will be here a little after 1:30,” I said.

  It was already 1:15 and I was ready to go. I usually had Kitchen Patrol – or KP – duty Sunday at lunchtime, but I had talked my younger brother Ralph into switching with me. He’s quite an astute bargainer. It cost me two KP duties next week.

  Just then, I heard a knock on the door and heard my dad say: “Hi Jay. How are you this afternoon? Is that your dad out there with his new vehicle?”

  With that, my dad was out the door and in a conversation with Jay’s dad about the car.

  “That’s a pretty nice looking car you have there, Brad. It’s a Flint’s isn’t it? There aren’t too many of those around. They built a really good product at a reasonable price. But if memory serves me right, the company went out of business last year.”

  “You’re right,” said Jay’s dad. “The price was too enticing for me to refuse. And I happen to know that the Flint Company was taken over by Durant Motors, and they say they have lots of replacement parts stockpiled for repairs if local garages run out of them.”

  “Well, it’s a great looking car,” said my dad. “And it looks like you’ve got everything ready to go this afternoon. Except for Joel.”

  With that, I was out the front door, over to the car, and into the back seat with Sylvia and our supplies. Jay sat in the front with his dad. I think he was hoping to drive today. He’s had his beginner’s license for a few weeks now and has been driving regularly with his dad beside him in the front seat. I hope his dad’s blood pressure medication does its job. Jay’s positive comments about the car and his good behaviour over time will give him an opportunity at driving the Flint.

  We took the main street out of Chaseford, which became Highway 8 past the edge of town. We drove out about 3 miles, turned right down a major concession road, and headed for Goshawk. Goshawk’s just a village but there’s lots of good farmland around it. We went through Goshawk to the first corner outside of town and turned left, then proceeded about two concessions. At the beginning of the next concession we were at Jay’s uncle Herbert’s farm. There, just beyond the farm, was the bush looming up above everything and stretching out along the road for some distance.

  We pulled into the barnyard and circled around to the large porch that ran along the side of the big two-story farmhouse. Then we all climbed out of the car.

  Jay’s uncle Herbert came out to greet us. He told us aunt Emeline was busy in the house baking pies. Jay’s aunt was renowned locally for her baked goods and thoughts of warm pie momentarily distracted me from the task at hand. Even before introductions Sylvia blurted out:

  “Where is that big tree? All I see is a very large woods.”

  Uncle Herbert looked at us. “You must’ve just escaped from town. I guess you don’t know too much about the countryside. From this farmyard, you are far too close to the woods to be able to see anything but the tops of the nearest trees.”

  “I’m sure I saw that tree when I drove by with my parents a week or two ago,” said Sylvia.

  “I’m sure you did, too,” said Uncle Herbert. “From one concession over. There’s a bit of a rise along that road. It’s highly visible from there. So don’t take your project supplies out of the car yet. I think you’re going to need to set your stakes up one concession over if you want to be able to focus on that large tree.”

  Our plan had been perfect up until now. Now we’d encountered a minor flaw. A problem that we were able to solve with practical advice from Jay’s uncle.

  Jay’s dad smiled and said: “I think that rise that Herbert was talking about starts just about one farm past where Georgie’s relatives live. When you do your project, you’re going to be a lot closer to Georgie’s relatives farm than you are to this one. Get back in the car. I’ll drive you over to Georgie’s relatives and then to the rise in the road.”

  Jay’s dad turned to Herbert. “I’ll need a little time to drop these guys off and then I’ll come back and visit with you. I’ll let you tell me what a terrible year you’re having on the land, despite what appears to be lush growth of all your crops. Then you can admire my car while I tell you what a great vehicle it is and what a good deal I made.”

  They both laughed. They knew there was just a touch of truth in what he’d said.

  Georgie appeared on the bike that she’d borrowed from her cousin just as we’d gotten back in the car. She stopped at the entrance to the lane, smiled, and waved hello. This sent a chill through me. I knew that sunny smile was about to change into a storm cloud.

  Georgie biked up to the car. I readied some words I felt I might have to use again from time to time, and, before anybody could say anything, I said: “Please let me explain.”

  “Explain what?” said Georgie, the first hint of a frown crossing her smile.

  Sylvia stepped in to rescue me. She explained that the tree wasn’t visible here because we were too close to the woods and that we would have to go back to the rise in the next road. The road that ran right past her cousin’s place.

  Georgie continued to look at me. Her smile was gone, her eyes had hardened, the storm was approaching, and I was very uncomfortable.
/>   “Your plan seems to have a flaw in it,” she said. “I biked all the way here and now we’re going back to where I started?”

  Rather than risk more hot tongue and cold shoulder, I said: “Guilty as charged. Please let me explain.”

  “I didn’t like your first explanation,” she snapped.

  “Okay,” I said. “How be you ride back in the car and I’ll bring the bike?”

  “That’s an improvement,” she said, somewhat mollified.

  Everyone else chuckled. I was the centre of attention but I wasn’t enjoying it. Georgie got in the car and I got on the bike. I knew that, secretly, she really wanted a ride in the Flint.

  Off we went. I began to trail further and further behind as the Flint picked up speed. We stopped briefly at Georgie’s relatives to explain what was going on and there I enjoyed another dose of embarrassment. I guess it was good for me: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Anyway, it was great to hear the laughter of lots of people. I just wished it hadn’t been at my expense.

  We bid Georgie’s relatives goodbye and Jay’s dad delivered us and our equipment about another mile up the road, just over the rise. From there, you could really see that large tree in the middle of the bush. We decided to call it Trigonometry Bush, or TB, for short. It’s our inside joke.

  Jay’s dad dropped us off. It was now about 2:45 in the afternoon. He said he’d come back and pick us up at about 4:30 at Georgie’s relatives, then away he went, back to visit with his brother-in-law in his Flint.

  NOW WE COULD GET TO work.

  “Remember,” said Jay, “Mr. Graf told us to make a rough sketch before making any measurements. He said it was important, whenever possible, to make sure that your baseline was hopefully at least as long as the distance the landmark appeared to be away from you. So let’s think about this for a couple of minutes. How far away would you think the big tree is?” Before we could answer, he continued by reminding us: “We’re now about one concession from the edge of the bush. So that’s a mile and a quarter at least, and that big tree appears to be back in the bush quite a ways. Seems to me my uncle told me that that concession behind his farm doesn’t go all the way through the bush. The road ends in a T-intersection just before the bush. So, from here, it looks like the bush extends probably at least to the concession after that. So that tree is quite some distance from here. If that tree is in the middle of the bush, that would be about two concessions from here, or about two and a half miles.”

 

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