Travis Lee: Letter To Belinda Part 43

"I don't know about that," Cory replied. "They kind of like to run their own itinerary down there. They would be p.i.s.sed if someone came in and up-staged their ghost stories."

"Yes, you are probably right. Well, good luck."

The boys walked into Dari-Delite, Jesus leading the way, with Lazurus bringing up the rear, walking stiffly. They ordered burgers and fries, then looked at the time.

"We're going to have to hurry, if we are going to hit the Tiger Hut, and get back in time to unload the casket at our house before the curfew." Joey said.

"No problem," Cory said. "We should have plenty of time to spare."

"Yeah, but we need to allow time for a flat tire, or something."

"My dad has good tires on this truck, and it's running like a top. What could go wrong? We'll do fine. Don't worry. When you start worrying, that's when you will something to happen. Believe me, nothing is going to happen to keep us from getting home on time."

"Are we getting our food to go?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, that will save time."

They got their food, then went out and sat on the tailgate to eat most of it before they loaded up to go.

"Chris, are you going to ride up front with us?"

"Nah. I'll ride in the casket. It's less cramped." He climbed in, taking his fries and drink with him. The other three loaded into the cab, and off they went. It was a ten mile ride to West Blocton, even taking the shortcut across Turkey Ridge. It was a less used road, and was full of sharp curves, and steep hills to climb, but it was the shortest rout. Their Dad had once told them, in jest, of course, that the dozer operator who made this road must have been either drunk, or chasing a snake, or both.

As Cory negotiated the curvy road, he took the curves a little fast, and the casket slid from one side of the truck bed to the other. Joey was getting concerned. "Be careful on these curves, Cory. We don't want to ding up Dad's casket!"

"The handles on the sides keep it from hitting anything. Trust me! I'm the son of an undertaker. I know these things."

The steepest hill on the rout lay before them. Cory got up some speed to make the hill, knowing that there was a hair-pin turn at the top of the hill. They braced for the sharp turn, and again the casket banged against the side of the bed.

"Whoa! Enough of that, Cory! Pull over and let me put something on each side of the casket, to pad it from the sides."

"Hey, you were the one complaining about us not getting back in time."

Joey jumped out to see about the casket, and returned a couple of seconds later with a shocking report.

"He's gone! The casket and all is gone!"

"Can't be!" Cory said. "We just heard it bang the sides."

"Then it just fell out!"

"How did it fall out? That's what I want to know!" All three of them went to inspect the back of the truck. In the moonlight, they saw the answer to that.

"Calvin, you forgot to close the tailgate!"

"I did not! I remember closing the tailgate!"

"Well, it's open now!"

"It don't matter, guys! Let's just go back and get him!"

"Don't back up! You might run over him!"

"I'll get my flashlight."

With the flashlight, they ran back toward the sharp curve, where they were sure to see the casket lying on the side of the road damaged, and Chris shaken up. They even joked about how funny that must have looked, to see the casket sliding out of the truck. There was certain to be damage to the casket, and they hoped that Chris was okay. But when they got to the curve, they saw nothing.

"Where did he go?"

"He's got to be right here! We heard the casket bang against the side of the truck, as we turned sharp. He's got to be here somewhere!"

"Come look at this!" Calvin said. On the very sharpest part of the curve, where the road topped the crest of the ridge, there was fresh dirt sprayed over the gra.s.s. The arrival of the flashlight told the whole story.

"Look, the end of the casket hit the ground right here, and slid over the gra.s.s, and over the hill! He's on the other side of the hill!" They stepped over the hump and s.h.i.+ned the flashlight down the steep hillside, but still saw nothing.

"Where did he go?"

"See the gra.s.s and leaves flattened out? He obviously slid down the hill! Come on, let's find him!"

"You guys go on. I left the truck running in the middle of the road. I'll go pull it back to here and park it, then I'll help you get the casket back up the hill."

"He couldn't have gone too far." Joey said to Calvin, as they followed the flattened foliage down the steep hill. "He had to have hit a tree somewhere along the way."

"Yeah, and it probably destroyed the casket! Dad's going to kill us!"

"Let's not think about that right now. We gotta' make sure Chris is okay."

"Look! See where he side-swiped that tree! There's a piece of trim off the casket."

"Save it. Maybe we can super-glue it back on."

"There's another piece!"

"Save them all."

"And there's another piece! I got a feeling there ain't going to be enough to put back together!"

"Just save them! We'll figure that out later. CHRIS! CAN YOU HEAR ME!"

"The slide marks keep going down the hill!"

"I can't believe he slid this far down the hill without catching on something!"

"Chris might be dead!"

"Don't say that! Just keep walking! He's got to be down here somewhere!"

"I bet that casket was moving on, by the time it got this far!"

"You know it was!" The boys looked at one another, and burst out laughing. "You know this is going to be one of the funniest things that Chris has ever done!"

"He'll never be able to live it down!"

"Yeah, we'll be laughing about this for years, if it didn't kill him!"

"Look, more pieces of trim."

"Yeah, and see here? Bronze colored paint on the side of this rock. The casket is going to be totally destroyed by the time we catch up with it!"

"That will be a.s.s whupping number one, with many more to follow."

The trees were getting thicker, the farther down in the valley they went, and still no casket, but a clear path told them that it had been here. It had bounced off the sides of trees and rocks for what seemed like a quarter mile, before they got to the river valley, where the hillside sloped right down to the river itself. The two boys stopped on the river bank.

"Oh my G.o.d! He went into the river and drowned! See the fresh dirt, where he hit the bank?"

"And went right into the river! Yeah, he had to go into the river. Ain't nowhere else he could'a gone!"

"Did he sink?" Calvin asked.

"I'm looking! The water ain't deep here. See? Nothing on the bottom. If he didn't sink, then he had to have floated! See anything down-stream?"

"Can't tell. There's a bend in the river. If the casket is floating, he probably already went around that bend. Want to follow him on the river bank?"

"No, too many briars and snakes, and besides, the water is too swift. We couldn't ever catch up with him."

"Suppose he snags on the bank somewhere along the way? Or suppose the casket leaks and sinks somewhere?"

"Yeah, you're right. Okay, you go back up the hill and get with Cory, and go down river with the truck to try to intercept him somewhere. I'll take this flashlight, and walk the riverbank, in case he snags on something."

"What's the nearest place we can drive around and fish him out?"

"Probably the railroad bridge at Piney Creek. But by the time you walk out, and drive around, he probably will be drifted past that point. You and Cory stop and check anywhere along the river you can get to. I'll follow on this side of the river."

"Where do we pick you up at?"

"I don't know. If I don't see him, I'll probably walk the river all the way to the Presbyterian Retreat. He's sure to hang up on something or sink somewhere before he gets that far."

"Do you think Chris is okay?" Calvin asked.

"How should I know? Either way, we got to find him!"

"What's our story going to be, in case we see Mom before we see you?"

"Hey, this place is on the way to the Retreat, where we were supposed to be going anyway. We tell her that Chris was riding in the casket, because it was cramped in the truck, and somehow, because somebody didn't close the tailgate, he slid out the back, and down the hill, and into the river!"

"I told you, it wasn't me! I closed the tailgate!"

"But apparently not good enough, and it fell open!"

"But it wasn't my fault that the tailgate latch came open! It's an old truck! Old things fall apart! Cory was driving like a bat out of h.e.l.l!"

"Okay, we can blame it on Cory!"

"So we ain't going to say anything about going to McDonald's, or Dari-Delite?"

"No, we leave that part out. No sense digging our graves any deeper than we have to. Pa.s.s that on to Cory too."

Calvin paused and looked at Joey. "Mom is going to be p.i.s.sed about us missing our curfew."

"Don't you know it! She'll be even more p.i.s.sed if we can't find Chris. We'll be grounded until we're 40!"

When Miranda heard the screech of tires on the highway, and the dull thud, she was just arriving at her house, having walked through the woods in the dark. She could think of only one thing: I hope that wasn't Lennie that someone hit! She quickly got into her car and drove up the driveway to her mailbox and stopped. She saw a large 4x4 pickup truck with monster wheels, stopped in the middle of the highway, between her driveway and the Judge's. The headlights were on bright, and two men were standing in the road in front of the truck, looking down at something they had hit. As an almost involuntary response, Miranda found herself running toward them. To herself she was saying: Let it be a deer! Please, please don't let it be Lennie! But as she got closer, she saw Lennie's smashed bike on the far shoulder of the road. She yelled at the men. "You killed him! You ran him down!" The two men turned to see her approaching them, they themselves looking like deer in the headlights.

"It wasn't my fault!" one of them said. "He rode right out in front of me, and there was nothing I could do!"

"Yeah," the other guy said. "He tried to avoid hitting him, but the fellow just steered right into him!"

"Oh, I don't care about that! Is he okay? Is he still alive? Have you called an ambulance?"

"No, I don't think an ambulance can help him. He was pretty much killed instantly."

"Let me see him!"

"He's pretty messed up, Ma-am. You don't want to see him!"

"Yes I do! I want to see him! Do you have a cell phone?"

"Yes."

"Then call the police!" She brushed past them, dreading what she was going to see, but she had to see it. She saw Lennie lying in an awkward position, with a ma.s.sive head wound. It looked like he hit the radiator of the truck head-first. "Oh Lennie! No, no, no!" She had to look away.

"Like I said, Ma-am, it wasn't my fault!"

"Yeah, I'll testify in court that it wasn't his fault!"

"I told you, I don't care about that! He's dead! What does it matter who's fault it is!"

"Well I've got a few speeding tickets. I don't want this to get my license pulled."

"My G.o.d! Is that all you're worried about? This man is dead!"

"Are you related to him, Ma-am?"

"No, but I know who he is. He's a r.e.t.a.r.ded man who lives down the road. He rides his bike all the time. Now call the police!"

"Yes Ma-am!"