River Rocks: A West Virginia Adventure Novel

by Steve Kittner

  “That sounds good,” Brad replied. “Let’s get to it.”

  Josh Baker’s cell phone rang just after 8:00 am that same morning. The boys had spent the night in the old Otis boys’ bunkhouse. This was a separate room, wood construction, not attached to the house but built very close to it. The room was rectangular and about 20 feet long and maybe 12 feet wide. Bunk beds were built into the construction, two on each long wall. Right in the middle of the floor stood an old pot belly wood-burning stove. Chucked full of wood at bedtime, this stove kept the Otis boys plenty warm through the winter nights in the hills of West Virginia down through the years. The stove was not needed on this warm summer night, however, and both boys had slept like rocks with the windows open for clean mountain air.

  Josh swung his legs around and his feet hit the old wooden floor. He reached for his phone with a sleepy face and checked the caller I.D. It read “Giselle.” Josh touched the answer button and with his morning voice said “Hello.” Eddie looked down on him from the top bunk on the other side of the room. Josh mouthed the word “Giselle.”

  “Did I wake you up again?” a sweet voice said on the other end.

  “Getting to be a habit, Giselle. What’s going on?”

  “Well, I was up a little later after I talked to you last night and guess what? The Charleston Gazette, the newspaper?”

  “Yeah, Yeah.” Josh was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and shaking the cobwebs out of his brain.

  “Well, it was founded in 1873 and at that time it was called the Kanawha Chronicle and was a weekly paper. By 1902 it was well established and, lucky for us, kept very good records even in spite of a fire in 1918.”

  “OK, good history lesson.”

  “No, wait. What I found online was one last article about this robbery.”

  “Oh really?” Josh’s eyes widened a little bit and he sat up a little straighter. With this reaction Eddie rolled up to attention, too. Josh hit the speaker button on his phone. “Another article,” he told his friend.

  “You won’t believe it” she said slowly and deliberately, “There was a reward for the recovery of that gold and for solid information about who took it!”

  “Well, that’s cool, I hadn’t thought about that but it doesn’t seem real unusual for a heist this big and high profile,” Josh said while stretching out his sleep-deprived body. Eddie shrugged in agreement.

  “True, but here’s the thing; I did some legal research, too, and if the reward was never officially rescinded, then it is still valid. You getting what I’m saying?”

  “Oh wow, OK then.” Josh looked at Eddie. “The incentive program. I like it.” They smiled.

  Giselle went on, “And that could explain why anyone who knows anything about this on the river would practically devote their life to finding it.”

  “Including Collins and Billingsworth,” Josh replied.

  “That’s right.”

  Eddie jumped down from the top bunk. “Giselle, what does the article say exactly. Who offered the reward?”

  “Ok, I’ll read it. It’s short.”

  Reward Offered for Missing Gold from C & O

  Railway Heist

  Officials in Washington D.C. are offering a reward for the missing gold stolen from a train in Mountain County, West Virginia. Officials say they are willing to pay an undisclosed but generous amount for the return of the gold or information leading to the return of the gold that was stolen from a train a year ago in central Mountain County. Anyone with information as to the whereabouts of the gold may contact their local town officials and your information will be officially documented and forwarded to the proper authorities in Washington.

  “Well I don’t think I would want to go to our local officials with the information we have,” Eddie said.

  “No way,” Josh agreed. “And you know what I want to do?”

  Eddie looked at his friend.

  “I want our original copy back. The one that we found.”

  Giselle said, “Yeah, just walk into Town Office and take it.”

  Josh shook his head. “Town Office? I don’t think it’s there. I’m thinking it’s at his house.”

  “Ah, ok. That’s easier. Walk into the Sheriff’s house and take it.”

  “Well maybe there is something that we missed, another clue.”

  Eddie said, “He does live alone, and his house would be empty during his shift hours at the office.”

  “No way guys; the risk is not worth the reward. And it’s a big risk. You know he has security in that house. And what do you need it for really? You copied it well. You have all you need.”

  Giselle made sense. It would be tough and if they were caught, the party would be over. No more adventuring for these two.

  “She’s right!” A big voice boomed from outside.

  The door to the bunkhouse was knocked open with a size 12 work boot as Burl Otis came walking in with a tray of biscuits, butter, blackberry jam and thick-cut fried bacon.

  “Morning Boys! Old fashioned Otis breakfast is ready!”

  “We’ll let you go now, Giselle,” Josh said.

  “Alright, let me know if you learn anything else.”

  “Ok, you too!”

  “Bye.”

  “Hope this is OK for you boys. Just whipped it up kind of quick.”

  Burl sat the old wooden tray down on the table. The tray itself looked like an Otis relic and each biscuit was as big as a coffee saucer.

  “Oh man, it looks and smells great!” Eddie exclaimed, jumping from his bed to grab a sample.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing when I was at the door, but I think your friend is right. We now have all the information we need to try to interpret the meaning of the document.”

  “Just aggravates me that he can do that and get away with it. Come into my garage and walk out with it like that. And he’s the sheriff! That just makes me suspicious of him and Billingsworth. Those guys are up to some kind of no good. I know it!” Josh said.

  “Well boys, what I would suggest is don’t try to get back the original unless it becomes necessary. And maybe it won’t be necessary at all. We have a lot of good information for now so I would say move on with that and I’m here to help you if you need it.”

  “Really?” Eddie exclaimed. “You’ll help us out?”

  “Of course. I just need a day to get some things done around here and then I’m free. I can go upriver with you guys and stay in my old trapping shack for a few days. I have some repairs to do on some traps down there. That way if you need me, I’m there.”

  “Trapping shack? Where is that?”

  Burl Otis grinned a mountain man’s grin that said my secret.

  Josh and Eddie looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. They had been all over the hills within a three-mile radius of their home and never saw a trapping cabin in the woods. But they were thrilled at having the help and local knowledge of Mr. Otis. He could be a great asset in their adventure!

  After eating and cleaning up, Josh and Eddie emerged from the bunkhouse to a beautiful summer morning up on the mountain. The warm rays of a sun rising through the trees and hitting their faces felt like heaven. Josh noticed a newly-stretched cougar hide tacked to the wall beside the rabbit hide Otis had tanned previously. Burl Otis got up really early. The cougar dominated the side of the shed.

  Josh stared at it and shook his head as the recollection of the terror stirred him once again. That was so close, he thought to himself.

  “She’ll make a nice jacket,” Eddie commented.

  The three guys spent the rest of the morning splitting firewood, feeding the various farm animals around the homestead and moving some goats from the hill below the house to the area over behind the barn. Nature’s weed-eaters! In a week that brush would be clear!

  In the afternoon they took turns shooting an antique re-curve bow hand made by a previous Otis boy. The arrows flew true and the boys were impressed. In the evening they all sat around the table by
lamplight and discussed the meaning behind the riddle on the map. They kicked around a few ideas about the reference to sand and an island bank and also decided that it may benefit them to stop and talk to a river legend, a man who knows everything about the river, a man who knows every catfish for ten miles: Tiny Brooks.

  Once again the night was spent in the bunkhouse and the next morning, as the sun rose, so did the boys. It was the day that they were supposed to meet Captain Brad at the river’s edge for their trip back upstream. This time Burl Otis would join the ride--a true test of the raft’s buoyancy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  The trio set out from the Otis homestead and entered the pathway at the end of the property that led into the woods to go back in the opposite direction from which they had come a couple days ago. Daytime let them see better where they were going now and they could observe nature and the sights around them. The main path was well trodden and had many smaller paths that led off of it to different parts of the hills and valleys that surrounded the Otis house and the woods where Josh and Eddie so often frequented a few miles away. Morning dew still lay on the leaves and two squirrels stirred a few yards ahead of them, gathering nuts and playfully chasing each other around a tree as they spiraled their way to the top.

  They worked their way up to the ridge and to the point where Burl Otis had made an expert shot on a cougar. They paused and both Josh and Eddie walked over to the spot and silently replayed the event in their minds. They looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. They were lucky to be alive and had Mr. Otis to thank for it.

  As they started down the other side, the rugged portion of their hike just a couple days earlier, Mr. Otis redirected them to a different route that was a little longer but much, much easier to descend. The almost undetectable path wound around the sides of the holler and snaked its way to the bottom. The beautiful scents of the forest helped to make this long walk a pleasure, and Josh would periodically inhale deeply to take in the bouquet of the hickory nuts lying on the ground and the wild lilacs that grew along the hills and in the coves. About half way down the hill towards the river Josh stopped and carefully took up by its roots a rhododendron plant to take home to his mom to transplant into their yard. It was a nice, healthy young plant and was his mother’s favorite.

  The three hikers made their way down the mountain by about noon and, sure enough, Brad was there with his raft, waiting for the boys to return. He was sitting on his vessel with a fishing pole stuck in a makeshift rod holder, just killing time as they approached and stepped onto the small rock bar. The boys and Mr. Otis noticed the heat of the day building for the first time as they stepped from the shade of the forest.

  Brad heard their steps and casually turned around to see his two passengers and a surprise guest. He didn’t say anything at first as he sized up Burl Otis and looked at him as if he were trying to remember if he had seen him before.

  “What’s going on guys? How was camping?” He broke the ice.

  “Hey Brad, camping was awesome, never took the tents out of the backpack!” Josh joked.

  Brad and Burl were still sizing each other up; neither were too comfortable meeting strangers.

  Finally Eddie said, “Uh, Mr. Otis, I’d like you to meet our friend Brad; Brad this is Burl Otis.”

  Brad stepped off of his raft and onto the river bank as Burl Otis stepped a little closer to him. The two stuck out their hands in a gentleman’s handshake, Burl’s hand all but enveloping Brad’s. They exchanged greetings as Burl studied the craft in the water before him.

  “Interesting-looking boat you have here,” Burl commented as he looked it over well, wondering if he should keep walking or take the ride with the boys.

  “Thank you sir. Eddie and Josh helped me put her together.” He gestured towards his new friends.

  Eddie shrugged, “Yeah it’s pretty stable and handles really well on the river.”

  The boys had already given Burl the story of the raft and had told him about Brad and his situation. The two friends moved on towards the raft and began to place their gear aboard as Brad turned around and reached for his fishing pole to reel in and get ready to launch. Burl nodded his head as if agreeing with himself to go aboard and stepped towards the raft. He gave Eddie a look and then pointedly looked toward Brad. Eddie shook his head slightly. Burl wasn’t sure if Brad knew anything about the document or the legend but wanted to be clear so he didn’t say anything he shouldn’t. Brad’s mind was working a little overtime, too, because he had had a little talk with Tiny Brooks the evening after they had made a passage through the shoals for the raft. Their discussion included Josh and Eddie and a place called Tater Holler, which concerned Tiny Brooks. He had always heard that nothing good ever came out of Tater Holler. Their discussion also included what possible intentions these kids could have in going up into those hills.

  “Well Mr. Otis, welcome aboard!” Brad said with a grin.

  Burl smiled and put one foot and then the other on board the raft and, to his surprise, it hardly wobbled with his 270 pounds. He nodded his head in approval. There was plenty of room for all four on board including their gear.

  “Well, let’s make our way upriver guys, what do ya say?” Josh said.

  Burl looked toward the baby blue bridge and the shoals. “Anchors aweigh!”

  Brad grabbed the long pole to shove off from shore as Eddie untied the line and coiled it up on deck, ship shape. With one hard push they were away from the bank and on their way to the middle of the river where they could line up for their approach through the new shoal passage. Burl stood in the center of the raft near the mast and watched the team execute the maneuver as if they had been doing it all their lives. He was quite impressed and thought the raft was a clever contraption and a cheap way for a few teenagers to have a way to get up and down the river.

  The raft poled nicely today and, as the boys neared the middle of the river they felt a perfect breeze from the southwest. Perfect for sailing!

  Eddie untied the sail as Josh readied the lines for hoisting.

  “Make sail!” Brad called out as Josh pulled smoothly on the main sheet.

  The sail climbed the mast and as soon as it topped out, the wind snapped it tight and Burl noticeably felt the acceleration, and he repositioned his feet for balance. The colorful paint tarp sail was stretched full and pulling them along impressively. Poling was not necessary today even though they were sailing against a slight current, upriver and with a full crew!

  They cruised along for about a mile. Josh was forward, cross legged, looking off the bow with his rhododendron beside him. He spotted the shoals maybe two hundred yards ahead and then noticed two brightly-colored milk jugs, one red and one green, sitting on top of the water. As they got closer Josh pointed them out to Eddie and they noticed that the jugs were connected to two steel rods driven into the river bed.

  “That’s super cool,” Josh commented.

  “And they rise and fall with the water level, too. If the river is up the markers will go up with it. Smooth like butter.”

  “That’s very clever,” Burl Otis commented. “Who helped you with that?”

  “Tiny Brooks,” Brad said, “just a couple days ago. Not sure if you know him or not. We must have moved three tons of rock just so we’d never have to do it again.”

  Tiny Brooks. Burl rolled that name around in his head. It sounded familiar to him and he remembered there were some Brookses who had lived along the river for many, many years here but he had somehow never become acquainted with them.

  “You guys did a nice job. How deep is it now?” Eddie asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  They neared to within about 20 yards of the passage.

  “We have about two and a half to three feet now. Plenty for any V-bottom on this river and way more than I need for the raft!”

  The wind was still strong and the raft was lined up straight. The passage was about twenty feet wide and the water rushed through it swiftly but wit
hout a ripple. Brad dug the pole in and gave a little push to overcome the increased velocity of the water through the gap. In just a couple of seconds they popped out the other side to the tranquil, deeper waters upstream of the rapids and just underneath the old baby blue bridge that was a landmark of their little town.

  Burl Otis clapped his hands and laughed. “Wow. Nicely done gentleman. Nicely done! I’m very impressed.”

  They all enjoyed a laugh and some back slapping for Brad and then set their sights ahead for the continued ride. They made their way along as the shade eluded them. The summer sun was directly overhead now, burning the tops of their heads. It was hot and getting brutally hotter, with no drinking water on board. Josh and Eddie had consumed their water supply on the hike from the woods to the river and Burl Otis was wiping sweat from his brow. All four were occasionally throwing river water on their faces and necks to cool off. Brad had an idea.

  Tiny Brooks’ house was just a quarter mile away and he had told Brad to drop in anytime he was on the river. Brad was going to take him up on his hospitality for a cold drink of water. Of course Josh and Eddie were good friends with Tiny, also, and agreed it was a good idea.

  As was the case most of the time, Tiny Brooks was sitting on his shady boat dock in a chair with a line in the water as he noticed the raft making its way up the river with the three boys and a huge man on board. He was wearing his signature “river wear” of old knee-length black work pants and white cotton button-up shirt. Long sleeved, but with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows. No socks. No shoes. Big smile.

  The raft drifted up to the dock as Burl, Josh, Eddie and Brad stood tall on the stable craft waiting to step off after a smiling but curious dock hand tied them off.

  “What’s going on fellas?” Tiny asked.

  “Just seeing if we could bum a drink of water,” Eddie said.