“That’s big! What did that say?” Josh asked.
“I wrote it down and then left it in the car but it said something like “the wallet of a Red Creek man was found at the scene of last week’s train robbery. It is said to have belonged to a guy named Arthur Otis,” Giselle improvised, “a mountain man who lives mostly self-sufficiently.”
The tire began to catch fire and began to cast a glow down onto the dock.
“But here’s the thing,” she continued. “The article said that Otis could not be found for questioning.”
“Yeah….he took the gold and split!” Eddie commented. “It’s like I was telling you a little bit ago, Josh. You make a heist like that, you leave town.”
“And that was about it. The article said that he was, most likely, one of the southern sympathizers who was unfortunate enough to leave his identity behind and that he would eventually be caught and questioned.
Eddie noticed the end of his pole slowly begin to pull down….just a little.
Josh said, “How did they know whose wallet it was? It’s not like they had drivers’ licenses back then, right?”
Eddie’s pole relaxed for a second and then was pulled toward the water about three inches again and held there.
Josh looked over as Eddie sat down on a cinder block and got into fishing position. “Current?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” Eddie replied.
“I would imagine those guys back then would carve their name or initials into their wallets, or something, don’t you think?” Giselle asked.
Eddie’s pole relaxed again.
“Could have,” Eddie said, while watching his pole.
“Yeah…think of all the saddle makers back then. I imagine leather work was pretty common and they were probably pretty good at it, too,” Josh said. “We did some in shop class last year.”
Eddie’s pole was pulled once more toward the water, only this time about six inches, and he reached down to grab it.
“Not yet!” Said Josh.
“I know, I’m not.”
“Well, anyway, I’m sure they probably made a positive identification before they put it in the paper. I mean, maybe there was just something in the wallet with his name on it. Simple as that,” Giselle said.
Eddie’s pole relaxed quickly this time and then boing, boing, boing! The fish was off and running with the chicken liver. Eddie grabbed his pole and quickly jerked backwards to set the hook, and the fight was on.
The big cat immediately ran downstream with the current and Eddie stood up to adjust his position to be able to land the monster that had swallowed his chicken liver. The boys were using their heavier catfish rods tonight strung with 10-pound test monofilament line, so line strength shouldn’t be a factor in landing this one, unless it turned out to be one of the big “leg swallowers” from upstream.
“Watch your drag,” Josh offered, excitedly.
Eddie’s line whizzed out as the big fish ran with his bait about twenty yards and then turned to come back. It’s a fish’s trick to get slack in the line and then shake the hook out of his mouth but Eddie was ready for him. As soon as he made his turn, Eddie quickly cranked his reel to take up any slack the fish was trying to gain. Seeing that Eddie was an experienced fisherman, Mr. Catfish then turned toward the shore and swam hard.
“Oh, here he comes, Eddie. Crank it, crank it, crank it!”
Giselle stepped toward the front of the dock behind Josh to get a better view of the action as Eddie retrieved ten-pound line as quickly as he could. The whole time the fish was swimming in toward the dock, he was shaking his head back and forth to try to throw the hook out of his mouth. Unsuccessful, the fish then turned and headed straight towards the other side of the river. When the tension on the line reset itself, Eddie’s reel screamed once again as the drag control let the line spool out to prevent breaking.
Giselle piped up, “He’s headed towards the sand bar.”
Josh turned around and looked at Giselle, a little bit surprised that a girl was even paying attention to what was going on as Eddie fought the fish. Giselle sensed what Josh was thinking.
“Hey, I fish,” Giselle said. “And you better hope he doesn’t go over there and wrap it around a rock.”
Josh knew she was right and so did Eddie. Eddie reached down and tightened the drag just a little bit on his reel. It was time to get the line back in. The cat would begin to tire soon and it should be just a matter of reeling him in. The fish swam right, downstream almost to the spot where, just a few days ago, Josh and Eddie washed the mud off an old, red milk can across the river. Just a few feet off the sand and rock bar the cat broke the top of the water with his tail, which is unusual for a catfish whose environment is primarily on the bottom of the river. This fish wanted off.
“He’s stretching my line,” Eddie said, while trying to gain some ground on the big guy.
“Yeah, pull on him Ed. Your line will hold,” Josh said.
Eddie pulled back on his rod and the fish gave in. Eddie reeled in the slack and did it again and again until he had the fish coming his way. Eddie was making steady progress and got the fish within twenty feet of the dock until he turned once more to head out to sea. Eddie would have nothing of it and pulled back hard on the rod as the fish gave in and Eddie turned him back toward the dock and reeled him in little by little. Josh lay down on his belly on the dock as Eddie reeled him up close and Josh reached down and grabbed the monster cat, being careful not to get knifed by the very sharp fins.
Josh pulled the fish up and onto the dock and Giselle looked on, very impressed. While Eddie held the rod, Josh reached into his tackle box and pulled out a pair of long-nosed pliers and extracted the hook. Eddie laid his pole down and lifted up the fish to claim victory.
“Look at his mouth. He’s been caught before.” Giselle said, noticing the other hole in the fish’s mouth.
“I could tell that when I was fighting him. He knew just what do, that’s for sure.” Eddie was excited.
“Lemme get the scale,” Josh said.
Josh reached in and got the scale from his box and hooked it on the fish’s mouth. The big cat pulled the scale down a good way as all three kids looked on.
Seven and a half pounds,” Josh said officially. “Nice fish, man.”
“What’s he, about twenty-eight inches or so?” Eddie asked, smiling big.
“Yeah, he’s big,” Josh said, smiling too. “Wow.”
The catfish flipped its tail hard. The boys were very excited about the catch but knew they needed to get it back in the water to fight again another day.
Eddie jokingly said, “Good bye Mr. Fish. Thanks for the fight.” He then leaned over and carefully placed the fish back in the water and with another flip of his tail he was off! Eddie washed his hands off in the river and stood up, still smiling big and proud.
“Good job,” Giselle said, smiling too.
“Man, that’s fun,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans.
Josh picked up his rod, reared back and flung his line far out into the water once again, and then bent down and placed the rod in its holder. The three were silent for a minute as Eddie baited his hook once again and threw his line out far to the right of Josh’s line. The fire above them had grown large and had begun to provide that glow on the riverbank that gave them light and kept the bugs in check.
If one were able to stand on the sand and rock bar and look back across the river at the three friends, one would see the picture of Americana: three young kids on the dark riverbank, illuminated by only the fire, enjoying each other’s company and the nature around them. No Ipods, no cell phones buzzing text messages, and no annoying ring tones to spoil the sounds of crickets, frogs and things that splash into the water at night. Just three friends doing what was meant for kids from West Virginia to do; enjoy the beautiful, outdoor life in simple, wholesome, country style.
Softly, Giselle said, “Hey Guys?” She paused a moment. “We need to find out who Arthur
Otis was.”
They all stood silent once again with the fire crackling above them.
CHAPTER NINE
The boys had fished until late at night and had taken full advantage of summer vacation by sleeping in the next morning. Giselle, on the other hand, had left at about ten o’clock to go home because she had to be at the library the next morning by nine. The three had made plans for the next day to go search town records for a man named Arthur Otis. This was Giselle’s’ idea, for she knew this information was public record. The boys both knew having her involved with their adventure was paying off already.
Josh heard the phone ring as he lay there with his head buried in the pillow at ten-thirty in the morning. A few seconds later his mom called upstairs, “Josh? Josh, are you up?”
“Not really,” he called back, with his head still buried.
“Honey, it’s Giselle O’Conner. I’ll tell her to call you back.”
“NO! I’m up! Hang on, hang on!”
Josh flung off the light blanket and sprung out of bed. Walking out of his bedroom, he rubbed his face and slapped himself with both hands to wake up. He met his mom half way down the stairs as she handed him the cordless phone from the kitchen and gave him a curious look, but said nothing more.
“Hello?”
“Did I wake you up? What a light-weight you are,” she teased.
“We were out there ‘til, like, one in the morning.” He pleaded his case.
“I know,” she laughed. “Your mom told me she heard you come in really late. I’m just kidding. But hey, listen, the town records are in the building beside the police station and Mayor’s office right there at the Red Creek Bridge. I’m getting out of here at two o’clock today. I was thinking that I could drive right to your place and we could walk up there. It’s not far.”
“Yeah, OK. That sounds good,” he said with a yawn. “Do you know how to look all that stuff up?”
“Never done it before, but how hard could it be, right?” she said. “They’ll tell us how, anyway. Mr. Mansfield said the records go way back to the origin of the town and everyone who has paid taxes here or was born here or died here would have some sort of record on file. They have all the construction records of every building that has ever been put up here, so if Arthur Otis lived here, we should be able to get some information about any descendents he may have and then maybe we can learn something from them about the Southern Jewel.”
“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”
“No, no, no. I just asked him how to go about looking up dead people in town records. That’s all,” she replied.
Josh thought, what an excellent thing it is having her on the team.
“Alright. I’ll call Eddie and have him over here at two o’clock, ready to go.”
“OK. Hey by the way, did you guys catch any more after I left?”
“Yeah, we caught ‘em all night. Nice ones, too. Nothing as big as the first one, but they were all nice!”
“Good. Hey I gotta run but I will see you guys at two or a little after, OK?”
“OK. See ya at two.”
Josh clicked off the phone and went into the upstairs bath to brush his teeth and hair, and to get ready for the day.
At about twelve-fifteen the phone rang again at the Baker house. Mrs. Baker glanced at the caller ID and saw it was the county library. “Hmm,” she said. “Hello.” She paused. “Oh yes, hang on just a second. Josh…it’s for you.”
Josh hopped up from his seat at the computer to get the phone.
“It’s Giselle.” His mom smiled.
“Hello.”
“Hey,” Giselle said on the other end of the line. She was sort of whispering so no one could hear her. “I had to wait ‘til Mr. Mansfield went to lunch to call, but I think he’s a little more than curious about what you guys have been looking up here.”
There was a brief moment of silence while Josh thought about what she had just said. His stomach knotted just a little.
He said, “Well, he asked if he could help us the other day. Why? What happened?”
Josh noticed that his mom glanced over at him and, as casually as he could, walked out the back door and onto the porch.
“You know the three microfiche films we were scanning the other day?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“He had the same exact films down here a little bit ago, cranking through them. I saw him as I walked past to return some books to the children’s area. Numbers 150, 151, and 152.”
He paused. “Out of all those films he was looking at our three?”
“Yeah.” She hesitated. “And Josh?”
“What?”
Josh heard her take a deep breath.
Slowly and softly she said, “He had that yellow piece of legal paper you were showing me.”
Josh’s stomach knotted a lot.
“Oh no.” Josh’s mind raced.
Giselle said, “Remember how you guys left here yesterday when it began to thunder?”
“Yeah….Oh my gosh. I left it lying right on the table, didn’t I? I forgot all about it. Oh man!”
“Yeah, and I had left the microfiche area when you guys did to go finish restocking upstairs, so either someone found it and turned it in to him or Mr. Mansfield found it himself.”
“I didn’t even realize it wasn’t in my back pack. I haven’t been in it since we left.”
“Well, what’s done is done. I just wanted you to know,” she said
“But why would it interest him?” Josh asked.
“I don’t know. We can talk about it when I get there. I need to get off the phone; I’m supposed to be watching over the place.”
“OK,” Josh said with no exuberance. “I’ll see ya in a while.”
“Alright, bye.”
“Bye.”
Josh’s heart was in his stomach and his head was now spinning. What did this all mean? Why would a local librarian be curious about vague words written on a yellow piece of legal paper by a couple of teenagers? Most of the writing on it was simply rows of unfinished words. The only legible line on it was Southern _ewel, and that would mean nothing to the average person in a library unless that person happened to be a local historian. And how could they find out why he was curious about their research? They couldn’t really just come out and ask him, because they didn’t want him to dig any further or try to trick any information out of them. Maybe he was just curious and that was all. Maybe that would be the end of it. Maybe not.
Josh decided to call Eddie and have him come over a little early so he could break the news to him. Mrs. Debord told Josh that Eddie was out with his father today but was expected to be back soon and that she would have Eddie call him back. Josh thanked her and hung up.
Josh hoped that Mr. Mansfield didn’t know enough to figure out what the three were up to. Prior to Giselle coming on board their team, the boys had decided not to let their parents in on their little secret. Parents just seem to have a way of squelching a good adventure for reasons known only to them. Mostly safety. The boys were afraid that their moms and dads would want to let the proper authorities investigate the matter, if there was anything to investigate, and he and Eddie would be left out of it altogether. They figured at the proper time, or if things got too hairy, they would reveal their secret and all would be OK. Giselle had agreed to this also, but now the team had suffered an information leak and Josh couldn’t feel worse about it.
At ten minutes ‘til two, Eddie showed up at Josh’s door. Mrs. Baker told Eddie that Josh was in the garage and Eddie thanked her and then walked around to the side door. Josh was putting air into his bike tires when his friend walked in.
“Hey,” Eddie said casually as he walked in. “Mom said you called. I thought I would just come on over.”
“Hey, Ed,” Josh said as he pulled the hose from the tire. “Giselle called. I guess I messed up. I left my yellow copy at the library yesterday and Mansfield found it.”
Eddie’s eyebro
ws raised a bit as he thought for a second.
“So. What could he get out of it?”
Josh shrugged and walked over to roll up the air hose.
“Something caught his attention on it because Giselle said he was scanning through the very same films that we were scanning. Why would he do that?”
“Wow.” He paused. “I don’t know. What could have caught his eye?”
“The only thing I can figure is the Southern Jewel part. With just the “J” missing, it’s not hard to figure out. I mean, we figured it out!” Josh said.
“What would it mean to him, though?”
“Beats me.”
Eddie thought for a moment while his friend wrapped the hose and then opened the valve on the bottom of the air compressor to release the unused air and free any water that accumulated in the bottom of the tank.
Don’t worry about it. Let’s just keep on doing what we are doing. I don’t think it’s a big deal,” Eddie reassured his friend.
“Probably right.”
“Were your tires low?” Eddie asked, changing the subject.
“Both of them. We’ve ridden a lot of miles lately.” Josh grinned. “Ya wanna check yours?”
“No. I’m good.”
Josh hit the button beside the door to the house to raise the double garage door and, at that moment, a silver 2012 Pontiac Grand Prix pulled into the driveway. Giselle pulled off her sunglasses and tucked them away. As she opened her door, the boys walked over.
“Nice,” Eddie said, looking over the well-designed Detroit model.
“Yeah, and the car looks good, too,” Josh added. He said it without any forethought, then immediately turned red as a beet when Giselle smiled and winked a “thanks” back at him.
The car had a flawless silver and black paint scheme with charcoal grey interior. Not a bad ride at all for an eighteen-year old. The deal she had made with her parents was to go to a local school so they would not have to pay for dorm expenses, and, in turn, they would buy her a reliable late model car to get to and from school for the next four years. The deal was good for all involved.
River Rocks: A West Virginia Adventure Novel Page 6