“That would be mean to tell her that.”
“We won’t tell her that unless we have to,” said Charlie. “I think she’ll help us out anyway.”
“Yeah, I think she will too.”
“There’s a bridge up ahead here we’ve got to cross,” said Charlie.
“A bridge?”
“Yeah, a real tall one. It crosses over Drakes Creek. We got to cross over it, and if we fall off it, that’ll be the end of us, and we won’t have to worry about all this trouble we’re in.”
“I don’t remember a bridge like that.”
“How many times have you walked down this railroad track?”
“I’ve walked a little ways down these track before but not near this far,” I said, starting to get a little concerned about the prospect of crossing a tall bridge over a rocky stream.
“I’ve walked to the bridge before with my dad. It’s pretty scary,” said Charlie.
“I’m not much into heights, myself.”
“It’s time to start getting into heights real quick because that bridge is coming up.”
“Why don’t we just walk under the bridge and cross the stream?”
“You can if you want to, if you don’t mind rock climbing down a steep cliff and back up another steep cliff.”
“Oh my word,” I said, becoming ever more anxious.
The sky darkened some, and the wind started blowing as we approached the bridge. The trees around us shook and seemed to talk in whispers as the leaves rustled. When we reached the threshold of the bridge, the sight took my breath away for a moment. There stretched before us was the bridge. It seemed to stretch for a mile, high above the shallow creek below. I was ready to quit and go back home to whatever punishment awaited me. Anything would be better than walking across that monster of a bridge. “We can’t go across this,” I said, terrified.
“Sure we can,” said Charlie. “It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal? What if a train comes while we’re about halfway across? We’d be goners for sure.”
“The train just went by. It’ll be hours before another train comes.”
“There’re no handrails to hold on to. We could just fall off.”
“We’re not going to fall off. We’ve been walking on the railroad tracks all this time and haven’t fallen off yet.”
“Yeah, but we weren’t a mile in the air either.”
“Just try to imagine you’re a foot off the ground.”
“Yeah, a whole bunch of foots off the ground. I can’t go over that.”
“I’m going to start calling you Chicken Little. Now, let’s get this over with. We don’t want to stand here all day.”
Charlie started walking across the bridge like he was on a city sidewalk. He got about twenty feet and turned around and saw that I was still frozen in the same spot.
“Now what’s the deal here,” he said. “I thought you was serious about this running away thing. Now here you got me dragged into this mess, and you’re about to quit because of a little old bridge.”
“That’s the biggest little old bridge I ever saw,” I said. “Anyway, I’m kind of tired. I was thinking about taking a break before I started across.”
“Oh please, that’s the sorriest excuse I’ve ever heard of: taking a break. You’re afraid to cross is what the problem is.”
“I’m not afraid. It’s just that I’m carrying all this heavy stuff, and I’m about worn out. Besides, this stuff is so heavy it might cause me to fall off the bridge.”
“You’ve been walking on these tracks all this time, and that stuff hasn’t caused you to fall down yet. What makes you think it will now?”
“I don’t know,” I said, running out of excuses. “I was just thinking, is all.”
“You can stand there and wait for the deputy to come if you want, but I’m going on across.” With that he continued across the bridge.
Afraid of being left alone, I finally took the first step. It was a small step, but it led to the next step, and before I knew it, I was walking across. I felt lightheaded. I was almost certain that any moment I’d trip and fall to the rocky creek below, plenty of time to think about the horror of what was happening on my way down. To make matters worse, the wind was getting stronger, stronger like it was intentionally trying to blow me off the bridge. I looked ahead and saw that Charlie was standing, waiting for me about halfway across. When I reached him, he patted me on the back. I jumped a bit, afraid his patting me on the back would push me over the side.
“Now, see?” he said. “It’s not so bad.”
“I guess not,” I said, starting to relax just a little.
“And look at the view from up here. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said, hardly able to look down, fearing that if I looked down too much, the weight of my backpack would shift, toppling me off the bridge.
“I guess we should get on across,” said Charlie. “Just in case a train did decide to come.”
“I thought you said another train won’t come by for hours,” I said in a near panic.
“Oh, it won’t. Just forget I said it. There’s no way a train would come so soon after one just crossed.”
Feeling slightly better, I followed Charlie as we continued to make our way across. We had walked about another fifty or so feet when suddenly he stopped. I nearly bumped into him.
“Listen!” he said.
A sudden wave of terror came over me. I just knew a train was coming. I thought I would pass out. I could hear my heart beating inside my chest.
“What is it?” I said in a whisper, barely able to form words.
“Can you hear it?”
“Sounds like a rumbling sound.”
“We’ve got to get on across right now,” said Charlie as he started a slow run. I followed him, my legs feeling like wet noodles.
“Run!” yelled Charlie. “There’s a helicopter coming. They’ll see us.”
And then I heard it—the repetitive thumping of a helicopter in the distance. I was so relieved, I almost cried. We made it across the bridge and dove into some tall grass just in time to see an Army helicopter pass overhead.
“That was an Army Chinook helicopter,” said Charlie. “It has the double propellers. My dad used to ride in one of those when he was in the war. I don’t think it was looking for us, though, although it might have been. It was probably just on some training mission.”
I started laughing.
“What are you laughing about?” asked Charlie.
“I thought a train was coming,” I said.
Charlie started laughing too. “I guess that probably did scare the crap out of you.”
“You know what?” I asked.
“What?”
“That was pretty fun.”
“What was fun?” asked Charlie.
“Crossing the bridge and running from the helicopter.”
“Yeah, I guess it was,” said Charlie.
“And you know what else?”
“What?”
“I’m glad you’re my best friend.”
“And I’m glad you’re my best friend,” said Charlie. “And now that we’ve got all that mushy stuff over with, I guess we should get going.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” I said, “I’m ready for anything now.”
“Look,” said Charlie. “Bruno’s still on the other side. He’s afraid to cross.”
“I almost forgot about Bruno,” I said, my enthusiasm leaving me like air out of a popped balloon. “I guess his feet are too tiny to cross the tracks. I wish I’d of thought and carried him across. I sure hate to have to go back and get him.”
“Just leave him over there,” said Charlie. “It’s better anyway. He’d be barking, and somebody would find us for sure.”
“But I can’t just leave him over there by himself. He’d be lost.”
“Dog’s never get lost. They always find their way back home. That’s what my dad says. They’re very smart. You could
take a dog to China, and it would find its way back home.”
“How would a dog cross the ocean?”
“Hop on a boat, I guess.”
“What if a train comes and hits him?”
“He’s got enough sense to get off the tracks. Besides that, when the conductor saw him, he’d blow the horn, and Bruno would know to step off the tracks.”
“I guess he’ll be okay,” I said. “But I sure am going to miss him. This is just the worse day ever.”
“Also, we don’t have anything to feed him, if you think about it.”
“I didn’t think of that,” I said.
“So see, it’s better. Bruno will be safe at home, and we won’t have to worry about feeding him. He’ll get plenty to eat at home.”
Note
1 This incident is based upon a true event, occurring in the 1920s, as described by Maurita K. Miller in a small publication called Rocky Hill Civil War Days, published in 2006.
Chapter 7
We walked on the tracks for about a mile through woods before reaching another open field.
“We’ve got to be more careful now,” said Charlie. “We should be getting closer to where some houses are. Look over there. You can see Truck Mountain. Stephanie’s trailer shouldn’t be too far from here. She lives right by the railroad tracks. At least I hope we’re going the right way. I’m pretty sure we are because the other direction goes toward Russellville, and she lives on the opposite side of town from Russellville.”
“I figured she lived in some kind of mansion, the way she talks,” I said. “And how do you know where she lives, anyway?”
“I ride my cousin’s school bus sometimes when I stay over there, and she rides the same bus. I like Stephanie, okay, but she likes to make up stories, if you haven’t noticed. She’s always talking about how rich she is. I’m sure you’ll be surprised when you see what kind of mansion she lives in.”
The sky was starting to clear, and the wind had slowed down. It looked like a storm would hold off for at least the time being. The sun had broken through the clouds and was bearing down on us. The humidity seemed thick enough to swim through. We were able to walk beside the tracks at this point as they were now close to the ground. Shortly, a few scattered houses began to appear in the distance, but we didn’t see any people out in the yards. After walking a little further, we came upon a country road. There was an old trailer on the other side of the road.
Charlie pointed and said, “There’s Stephanie’s big mansion.”
We climbed over a fence on the left side of the tracks and hid behind another fence, tangled with a honeysuckle vine, that faced Stephanie’s trailer. From there we waited for an opportunity to catch Stephanie out in the yard.
I was astonished at how dilapidated the place was. The trailer was small and painted two shades of faded green. A strand of multicolored Christmas lights hung loosely from a small porch that had been added on some years before. Hungry-looking chickens pecked around in the yard. There was no lawn to speak of, just trampled down dirt and weeds in some places. A sidewalk made of old rugs led from the house to a sparsely graveled driveway. There were some old tires stacked in a pile on the driveway, but there was no vehicle present.
“You mean she actually lives there?” I said, amazed. “She always acts like her mom is so rich and all.”
“Like I said, she likes to make up stories.”
“I figured she might be stretching the truth a little bit but good grief.” I contemplated on this a moment and said, conclusively, “It don’t matter to me where she lives or if she’s rich or not. I like Stephanie anyway. I don’t know why she thought she had to make up stories.”
“Yeah, that’s the way I feel about it too.”
“Do you think she’s home?” I asked.
“Probably, unless she walked to town or something. I think her mom stays gone half the time, from what I hear.”
“Since her mom seems to be gone, maybe we should just knock on the door.”
Charlie sat his backpack on the ground beside me and said, “Let me go first, just in case her mom is home. I’m not in quite as much trouble as you are. You hide here until I tell you it’s okay.”
He climbed over the honeysuckle-covered fence, walked across the street to the trailer, and knocked on the front door. Stephanie answered quickly and looked surprised. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but Charlie soon motioned to me that it was okay. I grabbed Charlie’s backpack, climbed over the fence with some difficulty, and headed over to the trailer.
“Hi Brian,” said Stephanie as she motioned for us to come in. We followed her inside, and I sat our backpacks down with much relief. Stephanie closed the door behind us. There was nothing fancy about the inside of the trailer, as I would have expected, but the place was neat, something I wasn’t expecting. A window air conditioner kept the place comfortable. The living room and kitchen were all in one room, separated by a small dining table. Clean dishes were placed neatly on a drain beside the kitchen sink. There was a green vinyl sofa and chair in the living room. A clean ashtray rested on a coffee table in front of the sofa. In one corner of the room there was a small entertainment center that house an eight-track player and a television with rabbit ears. The black and white TV was turned on to some soap opera, but the sound was down. The place had the musty smell of old cigarette smoke.
“Thank goodness I just cleaned the place up. I didn’t know you two were coming. This place is nothing fancy, but it will do until momma decides where she wants to build our big new house.”
“This place looks nice,” I said.
“Thank you,” replied Stephanie. “You’ll really love the new place when it gets built.”
“How’s your mom going to afford to build a big house?” asked Charlie. “I thought she worked at the truck stop out by the interstate.”
I could have punched Charlie for being so rude.
“She just works there to get extra spending money. She keeps most of her money in the bank.”
“Whatever you say, I guess,” said Charlie. “So, where’s your mom at, anyway?”
“Oh, she’s been gone quite a bit this week. When she’s not working, she likes to visit over at her new boyfriend’s house a lot. They’re all the time riding that big motorcycle of his. I don’t care much for her boyfriend. I’m glad he don’t come around here too much.
“So, anyway, what kind of big trouble are you two in?”
“It’s an awful mess,” I said. “I killed Miss Hazel by accident, and I’m afraid they’ll lock me up. I snuck her some cookies after my grandmother told me not to, and now she’s dead.”
“Were the cookies poison?” asked Stephanie.
“Not poison to regular people, but she was diabetic, and diabetics can’t eat cookies or anything else with sugar in it.”
“Just tell them you didn’t know,” said Stephanie.
“That won’t work because my grandmother told me not to take her any cookies because she was diabetic, but I took them anyway. I woke up this morning and found out she’s dead, and it was the cookies that caused it. I heard my mom say I’d probably be arrested.”
“Well, you know,” said Stephanie, “I did just see on the news last week about this woman that was arrested for murder because she gave her diabetic husband too much insulin.”
“What’s insulin?” asked Charlie.
“It’s some kind of sugar, I think,” said Stephanie. “I’m not sure why it’s called insulin.”
“This is worse than I thought,” I said. “Don’t you see? It’s the same situation. I’ll be arrested just like that woman. I can’t believe this is happening. And to think, I really liked Miss Hazel. She was one of my favorite people in the world, and now she’s dead because of something stupid I did.” I started to cry but quickly dried my eyes, embarrassed by my tears.
“It’ll be okay,” said Stephanie, patting me on the shoulder. “I’ll help you out if I can.”
“This is ri
diculous,” said Charlie. “I’ve told you before they’re not going to put you in jail. The worse that’ll happen is you’ll be grounded for a year. Like I said, you just need to hide out for a while and let everything cool down. When you get back home, your parents will be so happy to see that you’re still alive, they’ll forget about grounding you, same thing with my parents. We just need to think up a good story about what happened to us.”
“I think he’s right about that, Brian,” said Stephanie. “So, where do y’all plan on hiding?”
Charlie plopped down on the couch and said, “We’re thinking about going up to Truck Mountain and hiding there for a while.”
“So why are you going with him, Charlie? Are you in trouble too?”
“For one thing, Brian’s my buddy. But another reason is because I got in a fight with my cousin the other day at a wedding shower, and now I’ll be grounded until I’m at least in high school. On top of that, before we left the house, I took some money out of my mom’s drawer. When she finds out about that, she’ll want to kill me for sure. Maybe, now that I’m gone, my mom will wish she’d been nicer to me.”
“How do you want me to help? Do you want me to go with y’all?”
“No, we need you to bring us supplies like food and drinks,” said Charlie. “I’ve got two hundred dollars. That should last us a real long time. I’ll give you some money, and you can buy the stuff and bring it up to us.”
“That sounds like fun,” said Stephanie. “It’ll be just like in a movie. I’ll be like a secret spy or something.”
“Yeah, something like that,” said Charlie.
I started crying again. “I miss my mom already.”
“It ain’t like we’re going to be gone forever,” said Charlie, “just long enough for things to cool down.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” I said, drying my eyes.
Just then we heard a loud motorcycle pulling in the driveway.
“Quick! Grab your stuff and hide,” said Stephanie in a panicked voice.
“Where?” asked Charlie.
“You can hide in my room, but hurry.”
We picked up our rucksacks and followed Stephanie into her small room. She ushered us into a crowded closet and shut the door. Thru a crack between the doorframe and the poorly fitted door, I could see Stephanie’s simple room. There was a twin metal-framed bed in the corner to the right. On a small table beside the bed, there was a small collection of Barbie Dolls that seem to stare at us. Like the rest of the house, the room was cheaply furnished but neat.
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