It is wintertime. It is cold. The calendar has turned and it’s New Years Day. Gone are the warm days of summer that end with glowing sunsets across the lake. Gone is the beauty of fall when trees burst into glory and display their brilliant coats of red, yellow and gold. It is wintertime. It is cold.
Sparks jump and crackle, the oversized stone fireplace of the lodge in full blaze. Outside the floor to ceiling windows, snow flurries dance in the brisk wind to add a touch of white to the otherwise gray winter day.
Above the mantle, the iron hands of the clock continue their trek as the top of the hour draws near. With each passing minute the lodge begins to fill. When I first arrived there were just a few others here, now the room is crowded, cheers and best wishes to the New Year filling the air.
Looking to the front door I see a familiar face scurry in, “wow, it’s cold” says Patty, rubbing her arms and curling her body as she tries to warm herself from the winter air. “Take your coat off and stand by the fire,” I say to her as she walks across the room drawn to the promised warmth of the now roaring fire.
From across the room we hear a loud voice shout out, “Are you ready? Are you ready?” he says again. There is a noticeable rise in the energy of the room. The leader of the club makes his away to the front of the lodge, a piece of chalk in hand.
Approaching the blackboard positioned for all to see, he begins to write. This is what we have been waiting for; this is why we are here. The numbers say it all, ‘Air Temperature 20, Water Temperature 36’
In unison we rise from the couches and chairs scattered throughout the warm lodge. The time has come. One by one we exit the lodge through the large glass doors overlooking the grassy slope leading to the lake at the bottom of the hill.
Like a flock of penguins herded together to battle the harsh winter air, we pull at our hats and tug at our coats as the wind rips across the lake and smacks us in the face. “One minute” yells the leader of the flock, “one minute.”
It begins, we shed the outerwear that has protected us from the cold of the day. Off go the coats and sweatpants that have kept us warm. Off go the gloves and hats we were wearing when we left the lodge. I look around, it’s 20 degrees as nearly 100 people stand at the lakeshore. We are in bathing suits.
The leader of the club begins the final countdown, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.” We’re off, in a pack we run across the sandy beach and dive into the 36 degree water of the lake. It is wintertime. It is cold.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Night turns to Day
Early morning glow night turns to day
Rising sun chases the moon away
Twinkling stars begin to fade
End of heavens nighttime display
Gold and pink clouds sweep nights black away
Rays of sunshine cast light on the day
The sky now a clean canvas as night is torn
Gods paints the dawn sky each new morn
Listen to the birds as they awake in song
Morning dew not to remain long
Sunrise here to start the new day
Grab hold of the wonder let your spirit play
Sunrise glory for all to see
Morning beauty sets my heart free
----Don Bernitt
Rising sun chases the moon away
Twinkling stars begin to fade
End of heavens nighttime display
Gold and pink clouds sweep nights black away
Rays of sunshine cast light on the day
The sky now a clean canvas as night is torn
Gods paints the dawn sky each new morn
Listen to the birds as they awake in song
Morning dew not to remain long
Sunrise here to start the new day
Grab hold of the wonder let your spirit play
Sunrise glory for all to see
Morning beauty sets my heart free
----Don Bernitt
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Turtle In The Sky
“Shhh…if you listen you can almost hear them” he said, stroking his dark blond hair across his forehead and lifting his brown eyes skyward to point to the jetliner flying at 40,000 feet across the cloud spotted Wyoming sky.
Sitting next to him in the hayfield, their backs leaning against one of the large round bales of hay that decorated the field like a maze, she followed his eyes. “Hear what?”
“You can almost hear the engines” Brain said as his mind raced to meet the jet in flight. Almost without trying he imagined himself in the cockpit. Behind him in the cabin, row after row of people listening to I Pods, reading books, or looking out the windows while flight attendants in blue and white outfits slowly push their metal carts down the aisle serving soft drinks and chocolate covered pretzels to those not napping.
As she touched his outstretched arm in a manner somewhere between a child’s tap and a young lover’s grasp, Brian felt his blood warm and skin tingle. “Don’t be silly, you can’t really hear the engines from down here.”
He was now in two places at once, his mind at the controls of the jet; his body awash in the sensation brought on by her touch.
“See the turtle in the clouds?” Jennifer said excitably as she again reached to touch him and directed his attention to the distant clouds. “See the turtle in the sky?” she repeated as the teenage couple shared in a moment brought on by their imaginations and the beginning of what must have been love.
“No, I don’t see a turtle” he said as he laughed and gently swept her arm away. His intentions not meant to push her away, but instead to return her touch and feel the warmth that he had not felt before that day. “One of these days I’m going to be flying one of those” Brian proclaimed in the voice of a confident teenager as the jet streamed away, the twin contours of the exhaust stretching across the beautiful blue sky before disappearing into the shell of the turtle in the sky.
“Do you promise to take me on a ride if you do fly someday?”
“Not if, when!” Brian answered in a firm tone as he got up from the ground and shattered the calmness that the two had just shared. Realizing too that the moment had gone, Jennifer stood, brushed the loose strands of hay from her worn and faded jeans and followed Brian as he walked towards the John Deere Four Wheeler they had ridden from the barn to the remote corner of the farm.
With the smell of fresh baked bread and a home cooked meal quickly filling the air, the kitchen windows steamed over as Julia, Brian's mom, pulled her world famous meatloaf, then buttered red potatoes, fresh cut green beans and finally a tin pan of honey glazed cornbread from the oven. Placing the hot dishes on the cutting board counter top that wrapped the sink, Julia used her oven glove to wipe the window clear. “Here they come Ed” she yelled to alert Brian’s dad that he need not climb into the rusty old pickup truck and drive across the farm to look for the young couple.
As if planned to the minute, Brian and Jennifer rolled the Four Wheeler to a stop at the back door and bounded into the kitchen just as the table was finished being set.
“Are you staying for dinner Jen?’ Brian’s mom asked as she stooped and reached into the refrigerator to bring out a fresh gallon of milk.
“I wish I could, but I have to get home” Jennifer said taking a last minute to say goodbye to Brian and his parents before hoping on her own Four Wheeler and heading down the long pebble drive that led to State Route 22 and her family farm a mile and a half down the road.
Not missing the golden opportunity that lay in front of them, Brian’s sister Kate and a gaggle of friends who were over to celebrate her tenth birthday with an all night slumber party, broke out in song; Brian and Jennifer up in a tree… K- I- S- S- I- N-G, first comes love then comes marriage, then comes Brian pushing a baby carriage.”
With his face turning red with anger, and with his parents turning away to hide their smiles, Brian replied as any older brother would. “Oh yea, well you’re so ugly that no boy would ever kiss you.”
“Alright, that’s enough you two”. As was always the case, dad’s words were final.
With mom’s home cooked fixings spread across the red and yellow checked tablecloth that covered the large oak dinner table, and with hands washed and eight hungry mouths ready to be fed, it was time to eat. But first as with every meal served in the old farm house it was time for the blessing. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
“Where do you put it?” Brian’s mom said aloud, not speaking to anyone of them but rather to them all. In a matter of 15 minutes the meal that had taken hours to prepare was all but gone.
“That’s why we call it World Famous meatloaf mom” Brian answered as he swiped his cornbread across his plate to swipe up the crumbs and drippings leaving his plate almost as clean as it was when he had first sat down.
“That was delicious Mrs. Stevenson” chimed in one of Kate’s sleepover pals.
“Thanks everyone, I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now take your dishes and put them in the sink please.”
With the table cleared of dishes, and the scraps of leftovers spooned into the dog bowl, Kate and her friends ran from the kitchen laughing and screaming to finish the Wii tournament they had started before being called to dinner.
“Can I talk to you guys for a minute” asked Brian as quiet returned with just the three of them now left in the large country kitchen.
“Sure, how about you let your mom and I grab a cup of coffee and we’ll meet you on the front porch?” his dad answered as he put the half empty gallon of milk back in the refrigerator.
Since the topic first came up nearly a year ago, Julia’s answer had always been the same, “No.” Now they were at it again.
Swaying gently in the hanging swing on the front porch, Julia, her skin weathered from years of working outside along with her husband on the farm, looked down the long driveway that ran past the pear trees and the duck pond on the east side of the drive. With a backhand flip of her wrist that nearly sent her loosely latched wristwatch across the porch, Julia swatted at the bee that had landed on her cup. “No” she said again.
For a moment he didn’t know if she was talking to him or the bee as it flew across the porch and joined the two blue chalk hill butterflies that fluttered among the flowers as the sun began to set on the western horizon.
Rocking slowly in the black oak rocking chair his father had made, Ed took the toothpick from his mouth and flipped it across the cracked white painted railing of the wraparound porch. “Honey, I know it’s painful to talk about, but we have to let him go” he said in a soft tone to his wife as he removed his weathered straw cowboy hat and began to massage his forehead in an apparent attempt to relieve the stress of the moment.
Julia’s reply was the same. “No” she said lowering her head to hide the tears that had swelled and redden her normally sparkling blue eyes.
Getting up from the rickety old rocker, Ed, all 6 feet 4 inches of him, shook his legs in a jerking motion to allow his blue jeans to fall back over the top of his brown leather boots before walking over to join Julia on the swing. He sat down and put his arm around his wife as tear drops fell from her eyes. “It hurts me too” Ed said hugging his wife and sweeping her long brown hair away from her face, her head hanging in pain. “It hurts me too” repeated Ed in a voice that cracked with emotion as the magnitude of the thought hit home with him as well.
For generations they had been farmers, it was Ed’s grandfather who laid the cornerstone of the house that following several additions and renovations was the very home they lived in to this day. Other then Uncle Joe who was drafted to serve in Vietnam, nobody ever left Wyoming. Why would they, from their home on the plains they were just hours from Yellowstone and the majestic Grand Teton mountain range. The State slogan said it all, “Wyoming – Like No Place Else On Earth”
Now after years of living off the land their son had other dreams. “I want to join the military, I want to be a pilot” Brian said as he sat on the top step off the porch hunched over with his arms wrapped around his knees.
As his mother swayed softly in the swing, his dad, arms still around his wife to help ease the pain of the thought of her only son leaving the farm, looked at him and nodded, “Why don’t you go up to your room Brian, we’ll talk about it more later.”
Brian’s bedroom, on the top floor of the family’s 100 year old farm house, was painted in a dull green earth tone with the walls covered by posters of the Navy’s F-16 Blue Angels Acrobatic Flight Team. Sitting behind a handmade pinewood desk that was checkered with grooves, gashes and burn marks from doubling as a workbench for generations, Brian his hair now hanging wildly as if almost to resemble one of the sheep on the farm, peered out the window and across the open farmland. Focusing his eyes and his imagination, he looked past the distant high voltage electrical tower with its red blinking light, to a dream and future that seemed so far away.
Returning his attention to the keyboard on the desk, he began to type away seemingly in rhythm with the raindrops from the evening shower dancing on the tin roof above. Glancing down at the families ten year old dog Bella, a yellow Labrador Retriever sitting at his feet, Brian said aloud, “I want to be a pilot” before hitting the enter key and sending his message into cyberspace and the Internet chat room he had joined.
What’s stopping you? was the nearly instant reply that came across Brian’s screen as he arched his back and stretched his arms to crack his knuckles with a loud popping sound that could have been confused for popcorn popping in a microwave oven.
I live on a farm in the middle of nowhere and the only person with a plane around here is some old crop duster who lives 30 miles away in a town called Cross he wrote to his chat room pal who was a thousand miles away.
Taking a break from his Internet chatting, Brian sat deep into his chair, his head pushed against the back as though he were being pressed by G-Forces and for a moment imagined himself as one of the Blue Angels pilots flying wing tip to wing tip at 300 miles per hour as red, white and blue smoke poured from the rear of the engines to add a visual spectacular to the ear shattering roar of the Angels.
“Like I said, what’s stopping you?” Len typed into his new laptop that was sitting on the table that had become sticky from the sugar powder and jelly that had fallen from the half dozen donuts he had eaten since he logged onto the computer in the kitchen of his 2 bedroom apartment in Huntsville, Alabama. “Heck, if you want to become a pilot then become a pilot” Len posted as he took a drink of Ginger Ale from his Roll Tide – University of Alabama coffee mug and waited for a reply from his chat room pen pal Brian who was two time zones away.
“Sorry Brian, gotta go, talk to you later” Len quickly typed into his computer as his wife, eyes darkened with exhaustion and what looked like vomit on her blouse walked into the kitchen carrying their newborn daughter Jenny who was in full breath and showing her lung power in a high pitched scream that only a baby with a dirty diaper could manage.
“She’s all yours” Len’s wife Angie said as she handed baby Jenny to him, the bottom of her Winnie the Pooh pajamas hanging low and reeking of the pea flavored baby formula she had eaten earlier in the evening.
“Thanks honey, I appreciate it” he said with a smile as he stood up from the table and wiped his own mess from the creases of his soiled denim shirt. “Does somebody need their diaper changed?” the proud new father said in a soft and loving voice as he took baby daughter Jenny from his wife just in time to see her throw up a stream of God knows what onto the new laptop and the near empty box of donuts left on the kitchen table.
Not knowing what had happened to his chatting partner Len, Brian as with most kids who are skilled at the art of multi tasking, immediately shifted gears and began to search for new chat room topics and games on the Internet. With his sister and her friends in full birthday party mode downstairs, it was apparent to him that other than to go downstairs for the singing of Happy Birthday and the blowing out of the candles, he would be spending the rest of the evening in his room. He wasn’t going to complain.
Knocking first before opening the door, Brian’s dad came into the bedroom to continue the after dinner conversation they had begun on the porch. “It’s just so hard for your mother and me to think about how different things would be around here without you” he started. “It takes a lot to keep this place going and you’re a big part of that” continued Ed as his son quit his Internet surfing to listen to his dad.
“It’s not that I don’t like it here dad, it’s just that I really want to be a pilot.” “Every time I see that old guy flying his crop duster around or see those jets flying over, I just know that’s what I want to do with my life.” Pausing to look at the Blue Angel posters hanging from the walls, Brain’s father spoke the words that he had been waiting to hear.
“OK, I’ll tell you what, I’ll see if I can get in touch with Mr. Carney and we’ll see if we can get you a ride in his plane.” “I suppose we’ll find out real quick if it’s something you really think you want to do or not.”
“That would be awesome” Brian said as he jumped from his chair with excitement at the idea put forth by his dad.
“Alright, don’t stay up too late, we have a lot of hay to cut tomorrow and I want to get it done before any more rain comes in” his father said as he backed out of the room and pulled the door shut with an eye on Brian who had already returned to the keyboard and was no doubt telling his exciting news to whoever in cyberspace might care.
“I’m going flying, I’m going flying” he said to Bella, still sitting at the side of the desk now chewing on one of the rawhide bones that she had scattered around the house.
Saturday couldn’t have come quick enough. His dad had driven to the Carney farm earlier in the week and arranged for Brian’s maiden flight on board the small crop dusting plane. For years he had watched old man Carney streaking across the sky in the yellow and brown plane, rising and then diving to strafe the fields as he sprayed pesticides across the Springtime plantings. Today was the day. He was going to finally fly.
Running down the stairs like a kid at Christmas, Brain could hardly wait. He was to be outside along State 22 at 10:00 AM to meet Mr. Carney who would be landing right there in the middle of the normally traffic free country highway. “Let’s go, let’s go” he shouted to anyone in ear shot as he pushed open the front door and jumped to the ground flying over the steps as if the weren’t there.
“Hold your horses Brian, it’s still early” answered his dad who had walked out onto the porch as he prepared to drive the family down the drive to meet the plane that would be setting down any moment.
“I see him, I see him” yelled sister Kate as she looked down the straight and flat highway and got the first glimpse of old man Carney as he approached from the south. Getting closer you could hear the roar of the engine as Carney gently glided the plane to picture perfect landing on the remote highway turned runway. Bringing the plane to a slow rolling stop, the crop dusting pilot removed his leather goggles and climbed out of the open cockpit covering for a moment the hand painted side, ‘Carney the Crop Duster’
“Who’s ready to go flying” Carney asked as he walked towards the pickup truck that had brought the Stevenson family to the meet the plane.
“I am” shouted Brian as he waived his arm high and grinned from ear to ear as he realized the moment he had been dreaming of was finally here.
Almost as if he didn’t see him, Carney sidestepped Brian and instead approached his parents. “Good Morning Ed, Good Morning Ma’am” he said in a polite tone as he reached to shake hands with Brian’s father.
“Thanks for doing this” Ed replied as the two men shook hands with the strength and authority of two seasoned farmers.
“Not a problem, my pleasure.”
“Let’s go son” he barked as the two soon to be flyers began to walk towards the plane.
“Just a minute, give your mother a hug” Julia said has she stepped forward to give Brian a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder.”
Looking down towards the tail of the dual open cockpit machine, Carney noticed something off in the distance coming their way. “What do we have here” he asked aloud as all looked down the road at the familiar sight approaching. With her black hair flying loose in the wind it was Jennifer, throttle wide open as she raced up the highway on her Four Wheeler to take part in the day.
As he was instructed to do, Brian climbed into the front seat of the plane. As he sank into the old cracked leather seat he suddenly felt a wave of fear rush through his body. I’ll be fine he told himself as the butterflies turned in his stomach and his palms began to sweat.
“Go ahead and put those goggles on” yelled Carney as he started the engine and the plane again came to life.
“Yes Sir” replied the rookie co-pilot as he strapped the bug eyed goggles over his ball cap and prepared for takeoff.
“Have fun” yelled Jennifer, waving as Carney the Crop Duster slowly began to roll. Looking over his right shoulder, Brian smiled wide and gave the age old pilots signal of “thumbs up” as they quickly accelerated down the road. Before he knew what had happened, Brian was flying. They had lifted off and were climbing away. Looking out to the side, his fear was gone. He loved the feel of the wind rushing against his face as the plane banked to the right and the whole farm, his whole life, was now below him.
It was everything he thought it would be. He had been in the air for less than a minute and he knew this is where he would spend the rest of his life. He was going to be a pilot. Circling around the backside of the barn, Carney then leveled the plane and made a direct pass over the house and the spot on the road where they had taken off. Five hundred feet below on the ground they could see Brian waiving a big smile as Carney pulled the stick back and the plane began to climb.
Buzzing around the far side of the farm, Brian could see the hay bales below where he had told Jennifer that he would someday fly, and now it had come true. Looking first out the right side, and then the left, he took in the thrill of flying as old man Carney made long slow turns as the crop duster effortlessly soared in the sunny morning sky.
“OK, let’s make another run over them” Carney yelled as he maneuvered the stick and set them on line for another flyover of his family below.
“Here they come” yelled Jennifer, shading her eyes to pick the plane up in flight as it approached again.
“I wonder what he is spraying” asked Brian’s dad as he saw a white smoke coming from the rails that ran below the engine in the front of the plane as the crop duster got closer. “Looks like they’re going to land” he added as the plane began to lose altitude as it approached. As Brain and Mr. Carney flew directly overhead, they heard it. A loud pop followed by a flash of fire from the engine. In what seemed like both just a second and an hour at the same time, it was over. Ed, Julia, Kate and Jennifer stood in stunned horror as they watched the plane barrel roll and nose dive into the highway exploding into flames and tragcially killing the old crop duster and the young pilot who had a few minutes ago been standing next to them on the ground.
Two days later the entire community gathered at the cemetery. With the sound of grief filling the air, she sat alone in her pain as she remembered her friend Brian and the touch of first love they had shared in a life that was now so far away.
Wiping her tears, Jennifer then looked to the sky and as had happened just the other day she saw a jetliner flying in the cloud spotted sky. For an instant she felt Brian's touch and heard his spirit say, "Do you see it? Do you see it?" as the jet streamed away, the twin contours of the exhaust stretching across the beautiful blue sky and disappearing into a cloud that was the turtle in the sky.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Sitting next to him in the hayfield, their backs leaning against one of the large round bales of hay that decorated the field like a maze, she followed his eyes. “Hear what?”
“You can almost hear the engines” Brain said as his mind raced to meet the jet in flight. Almost without trying he imagined himself in the cockpit. Behind him in the cabin, row after row of people listening to I Pods, reading books, or looking out the windows while flight attendants in blue and white outfits slowly push their metal carts down the aisle serving soft drinks and chocolate covered pretzels to those not napping.
As she touched his outstretched arm in a manner somewhere between a child’s tap and a young lover’s grasp, Brian felt his blood warm and skin tingle. “Don’t be silly, you can’t really hear the engines from down here.”
He was now in two places at once, his mind at the controls of the jet; his body awash in the sensation brought on by her touch.
“See the turtle in the clouds?” Jennifer said excitably as she again reached to touch him and directed his attention to the distant clouds. “See the turtle in the sky?” she repeated as the teenage couple shared in a moment brought on by their imaginations and the beginning of what must have been love.
“No, I don’t see a turtle” he said as he laughed and gently swept her arm away. His intentions not meant to push her away, but instead to return her touch and feel the warmth that he had not felt before that day. “One of these days I’m going to be flying one of those” Brian proclaimed in the voice of a confident teenager as the jet streamed away, the twin contours of the exhaust stretching across the beautiful blue sky before disappearing into the shell of the turtle in the sky.
“Do you promise to take me on a ride if you do fly someday?”
“Not if, when!” Brian answered in a firm tone as he got up from the ground and shattered the calmness that the two had just shared. Realizing too that the moment had gone, Jennifer stood, brushed the loose strands of hay from her worn and faded jeans and followed Brian as he walked towards the John Deere Four Wheeler they had ridden from the barn to the remote corner of the farm.
With the smell of fresh baked bread and a home cooked meal quickly filling the air, the kitchen windows steamed over as Julia, Brian's mom, pulled her world famous meatloaf, then buttered red potatoes, fresh cut green beans and finally a tin pan of honey glazed cornbread from the oven. Placing the hot dishes on the cutting board counter top that wrapped the sink, Julia used her oven glove to wipe the window clear. “Here they come Ed” she yelled to alert Brian’s dad that he need not climb into the rusty old pickup truck and drive across the farm to look for the young couple.
As if planned to the minute, Brian and Jennifer rolled the Four Wheeler to a stop at the back door and bounded into the kitchen just as the table was finished being set.
“Are you staying for dinner Jen?’ Brian’s mom asked as she stooped and reached into the refrigerator to bring out a fresh gallon of milk.
“I wish I could, but I have to get home” Jennifer said taking a last minute to say goodbye to Brian and his parents before hoping on her own Four Wheeler and heading down the long pebble drive that led to State Route 22 and her family farm a mile and a half down the road.
Not missing the golden opportunity that lay in front of them, Brian’s sister Kate and a gaggle of friends who were over to celebrate her tenth birthday with an all night slumber party, broke out in song; Brian and Jennifer up in a tree… K- I- S- S- I- N-G, first comes love then comes marriage, then comes Brian pushing a baby carriage.”
With his face turning red with anger, and with his parents turning away to hide their smiles, Brian replied as any older brother would. “Oh yea, well you’re so ugly that no boy would ever kiss you.”
“Alright, that’s enough you two”. As was always the case, dad’s words were final.
With mom’s home cooked fixings spread across the red and yellow checked tablecloth that covered the large oak dinner table, and with hands washed and eight hungry mouths ready to be fed, it was time to eat. But first as with every meal served in the old farm house it was time for the blessing. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
“Where do you put it?” Brian’s mom said aloud, not speaking to anyone of them but rather to them all. In a matter of 15 minutes the meal that had taken hours to prepare was all but gone.
“That’s why we call it World Famous meatloaf mom” Brian answered as he swiped his cornbread across his plate to swipe up the crumbs and drippings leaving his plate almost as clean as it was when he had first sat down.
“That was delicious Mrs. Stevenson” chimed in one of Kate’s sleepover pals.
“Thanks everyone, I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now take your dishes and put them in the sink please.”
With the table cleared of dishes, and the scraps of leftovers spooned into the dog bowl, Kate and her friends ran from the kitchen laughing and screaming to finish the Wii tournament they had started before being called to dinner.
“Can I talk to you guys for a minute” asked Brian as quiet returned with just the three of them now left in the large country kitchen.
“Sure, how about you let your mom and I grab a cup of coffee and we’ll meet you on the front porch?” his dad answered as he put the half empty gallon of milk back in the refrigerator.
Since the topic first came up nearly a year ago, Julia’s answer had always been the same, “No.” Now they were at it again.
Swaying gently in the hanging swing on the front porch, Julia, her skin weathered from years of working outside along with her husband on the farm, looked down the long driveway that ran past the pear trees and the duck pond on the east side of the drive. With a backhand flip of her wrist that nearly sent her loosely latched wristwatch across the porch, Julia swatted at the bee that had landed on her cup. “No” she said again.
For a moment he didn’t know if she was talking to him or the bee as it flew across the porch and joined the two blue chalk hill butterflies that fluttered among the flowers as the sun began to set on the western horizon.
Rocking slowly in the black oak rocking chair his father had made, Ed took the toothpick from his mouth and flipped it across the cracked white painted railing of the wraparound porch. “Honey, I know it’s painful to talk about, but we have to let him go” he said in a soft tone to his wife as he removed his weathered straw cowboy hat and began to massage his forehead in an apparent attempt to relieve the stress of the moment.
Julia’s reply was the same. “No” she said lowering her head to hide the tears that had swelled and redden her normally sparkling blue eyes.
Getting up from the rickety old rocker, Ed, all 6 feet 4 inches of him, shook his legs in a jerking motion to allow his blue jeans to fall back over the top of his brown leather boots before walking over to join Julia on the swing. He sat down and put his arm around his wife as tear drops fell from her eyes. “It hurts me too” Ed said hugging his wife and sweeping her long brown hair away from her face, her head hanging in pain. “It hurts me too” repeated Ed in a voice that cracked with emotion as the magnitude of the thought hit home with him as well.
For generations they had been farmers, it was Ed’s grandfather who laid the cornerstone of the house that following several additions and renovations was the very home they lived in to this day. Other then Uncle Joe who was drafted to serve in Vietnam, nobody ever left Wyoming. Why would they, from their home on the plains they were just hours from Yellowstone and the majestic Grand Teton mountain range. The State slogan said it all, “Wyoming – Like No Place Else On Earth”
Now after years of living off the land their son had other dreams. “I want to join the military, I want to be a pilot” Brian said as he sat on the top step off the porch hunched over with his arms wrapped around his knees.
As his mother swayed softly in the swing, his dad, arms still around his wife to help ease the pain of the thought of her only son leaving the farm, looked at him and nodded, “Why don’t you go up to your room Brian, we’ll talk about it more later.”
Brian’s bedroom, on the top floor of the family’s 100 year old farm house, was painted in a dull green earth tone with the walls covered by posters of the Navy’s F-16 Blue Angels Acrobatic Flight Team. Sitting behind a handmade pinewood desk that was checkered with grooves, gashes and burn marks from doubling as a workbench for generations, Brian his hair now hanging wildly as if almost to resemble one of the sheep on the farm, peered out the window and across the open farmland. Focusing his eyes and his imagination, he looked past the distant high voltage electrical tower with its red blinking light, to a dream and future that seemed so far away.
Returning his attention to the keyboard on the desk, he began to type away seemingly in rhythm with the raindrops from the evening shower dancing on the tin roof above. Glancing down at the families ten year old dog Bella, a yellow Labrador Retriever sitting at his feet, Brian said aloud, “I want to be a pilot” before hitting the enter key and sending his message into cyberspace and the Internet chat room he had joined.
What’s stopping you? was the nearly instant reply that came across Brian’s screen as he arched his back and stretched his arms to crack his knuckles with a loud popping sound that could have been confused for popcorn popping in a microwave oven.
I live on a farm in the middle of nowhere and the only person with a plane around here is some old crop duster who lives 30 miles away in a town called Cross he wrote to his chat room pal who was a thousand miles away.
Taking a break from his Internet chatting, Brian sat deep into his chair, his head pushed against the back as though he were being pressed by G-Forces and for a moment imagined himself as one of the Blue Angels pilots flying wing tip to wing tip at 300 miles per hour as red, white and blue smoke poured from the rear of the engines to add a visual spectacular to the ear shattering roar of the Angels.
“Like I said, what’s stopping you?” Len typed into his new laptop that was sitting on the table that had become sticky from the sugar powder and jelly that had fallen from the half dozen donuts he had eaten since he logged onto the computer in the kitchen of his 2 bedroom apartment in Huntsville, Alabama. “Heck, if you want to become a pilot then become a pilot” Len posted as he took a drink of Ginger Ale from his Roll Tide – University of Alabama coffee mug and waited for a reply from his chat room pen pal Brian who was two time zones away.
“Sorry Brian, gotta go, talk to you later” Len quickly typed into his computer as his wife, eyes darkened with exhaustion and what looked like vomit on her blouse walked into the kitchen carrying their newborn daughter Jenny who was in full breath and showing her lung power in a high pitched scream that only a baby with a dirty diaper could manage.
“She’s all yours” Len’s wife Angie said as she handed baby Jenny to him, the bottom of her Winnie the Pooh pajamas hanging low and reeking of the pea flavored baby formula she had eaten earlier in the evening.
“Thanks honey, I appreciate it” he said with a smile as he stood up from the table and wiped his own mess from the creases of his soiled denim shirt. “Does somebody need their diaper changed?” the proud new father said in a soft and loving voice as he took baby daughter Jenny from his wife just in time to see her throw up a stream of God knows what onto the new laptop and the near empty box of donuts left on the kitchen table.
Not knowing what had happened to his chatting partner Len, Brian as with most kids who are skilled at the art of multi tasking, immediately shifted gears and began to search for new chat room topics and games on the Internet. With his sister and her friends in full birthday party mode downstairs, it was apparent to him that other than to go downstairs for the singing of Happy Birthday and the blowing out of the candles, he would be spending the rest of the evening in his room. He wasn’t going to complain.
Knocking first before opening the door, Brian’s dad came into the bedroom to continue the after dinner conversation they had begun on the porch. “It’s just so hard for your mother and me to think about how different things would be around here without you” he started. “It takes a lot to keep this place going and you’re a big part of that” continued Ed as his son quit his Internet surfing to listen to his dad.
“It’s not that I don’t like it here dad, it’s just that I really want to be a pilot.” “Every time I see that old guy flying his crop duster around or see those jets flying over, I just know that’s what I want to do with my life.” Pausing to look at the Blue Angel posters hanging from the walls, Brain’s father spoke the words that he had been waiting to hear.
“OK, I’ll tell you what, I’ll see if I can get in touch with Mr. Carney and we’ll see if we can get you a ride in his plane.” “I suppose we’ll find out real quick if it’s something you really think you want to do or not.”
“That would be awesome” Brian said as he jumped from his chair with excitement at the idea put forth by his dad.
“Alright, don’t stay up too late, we have a lot of hay to cut tomorrow and I want to get it done before any more rain comes in” his father said as he backed out of the room and pulled the door shut with an eye on Brian who had already returned to the keyboard and was no doubt telling his exciting news to whoever in cyberspace might care.
“I’m going flying, I’m going flying” he said to Bella, still sitting at the side of the desk now chewing on one of the rawhide bones that she had scattered around the house.
Saturday couldn’t have come quick enough. His dad had driven to the Carney farm earlier in the week and arranged for Brian’s maiden flight on board the small crop dusting plane. For years he had watched old man Carney streaking across the sky in the yellow and brown plane, rising and then diving to strafe the fields as he sprayed pesticides across the Springtime plantings. Today was the day. He was going to finally fly.
Running down the stairs like a kid at Christmas, Brain could hardly wait. He was to be outside along State 22 at 10:00 AM to meet Mr. Carney who would be landing right there in the middle of the normally traffic free country highway. “Let’s go, let’s go” he shouted to anyone in ear shot as he pushed open the front door and jumped to the ground flying over the steps as if the weren’t there.
“Hold your horses Brian, it’s still early” answered his dad who had walked out onto the porch as he prepared to drive the family down the drive to meet the plane that would be setting down any moment.
“I see him, I see him” yelled sister Kate as she looked down the straight and flat highway and got the first glimpse of old man Carney as he approached from the south. Getting closer you could hear the roar of the engine as Carney gently glided the plane to picture perfect landing on the remote highway turned runway. Bringing the plane to a slow rolling stop, the crop dusting pilot removed his leather goggles and climbed out of the open cockpit covering for a moment the hand painted side, ‘Carney the Crop Duster’
“Who’s ready to go flying” Carney asked as he walked towards the pickup truck that had brought the Stevenson family to the meet the plane.
“I am” shouted Brian as he waived his arm high and grinned from ear to ear as he realized the moment he had been dreaming of was finally here.
Almost as if he didn’t see him, Carney sidestepped Brian and instead approached his parents. “Good Morning Ed, Good Morning Ma’am” he said in a polite tone as he reached to shake hands with Brian’s father.
“Thanks for doing this” Ed replied as the two men shook hands with the strength and authority of two seasoned farmers.
“Not a problem, my pleasure.”
“Let’s go son” he barked as the two soon to be flyers began to walk towards the plane.
“Just a minute, give your mother a hug” Julia said has she stepped forward to give Brian a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder.”
Looking down towards the tail of the dual open cockpit machine, Carney noticed something off in the distance coming their way. “What do we have here” he asked aloud as all looked down the road at the familiar sight approaching. With her black hair flying loose in the wind it was Jennifer, throttle wide open as she raced up the highway on her Four Wheeler to take part in the day.
As he was instructed to do, Brian climbed into the front seat of the plane. As he sank into the old cracked leather seat he suddenly felt a wave of fear rush through his body. I’ll be fine he told himself as the butterflies turned in his stomach and his palms began to sweat.
“Go ahead and put those goggles on” yelled Carney as he started the engine and the plane again came to life.
“Yes Sir” replied the rookie co-pilot as he strapped the bug eyed goggles over his ball cap and prepared for takeoff.
“Have fun” yelled Jennifer, waving as Carney the Crop Duster slowly began to roll. Looking over his right shoulder, Brian smiled wide and gave the age old pilots signal of “thumbs up” as they quickly accelerated down the road. Before he knew what had happened, Brian was flying. They had lifted off and were climbing away. Looking out to the side, his fear was gone. He loved the feel of the wind rushing against his face as the plane banked to the right and the whole farm, his whole life, was now below him.
It was everything he thought it would be. He had been in the air for less than a minute and he knew this is where he would spend the rest of his life. He was going to be a pilot. Circling around the backside of the barn, Carney then leveled the plane and made a direct pass over the house and the spot on the road where they had taken off. Five hundred feet below on the ground they could see Brian waiving a big smile as Carney pulled the stick back and the plane began to climb.
Buzzing around the far side of the farm, Brian could see the hay bales below where he had told Jennifer that he would someday fly, and now it had come true. Looking first out the right side, and then the left, he took in the thrill of flying as old man Carney made long slow turns as the crop duster effortlessly soared in the sunny morning sky.
“OK, let’s make another run over them” Carney yelled as he maneuvered the stick and set them on line for another flyover of his family below.
“Here they come” yelled Jennifer, shading her eyes to pick the plane up in flight as it approached again.
“I wonder what he is spraying” asked Brian’s dad as he saw a white smoke coming from the rails that ran below the engine in the front of the plane as the crop duster got closer. “Looks like they’re going to land” he added as the plane began to lose altitude as it approached. As Brain and Mr. Carney flew directly overhead, they heard it. A loud pop followed by a flash of fire from the engine. In what seemed like both just a second and an hour at the same time, it was over. Ed, Julia, Kate and Jennifer stood in stunned horror as they watched the plane barrel roll and nose dive into the highway exploding into flames and tragcially killing the old crop duster and the young pilot who had a few minutes ago been standing next to them on the ground.
Two days later the entire community gathered at the cemetery. With the sound of grief filling the air, she sat alone in her pain as she remembered her friend Brian and the touch of first love they had shared in a life that was now so far away.
Wiping her tears, Jennifer then looked to the sky and as had happened just the other day she saw a jetliner flying in the cloud spotted sky. For an instant she felt Brian's touch and heard his spirit say, "Do you see it? Do you see it?" as the jet streamed away, the twin contours of the exhaust stretching across the beautiful blue sky and disappearing into a cloud that was the turtle in the sky.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
The Rocking Horse
"Mom, can we go the Mall?" asked Robby as he lay on the living room floor flipping through the weekly advertisements stuffed inside the Sunday paper. "We'll see" was the response, a response that he and all children have heard before and which was actually meant more to allow the moment to pass and not to answer his question.
"But mom, we start back to school soon and I need to get the stuff on the list" continued Robby as he waived the 15 item list of school supplies sent in the mail to the houses of all students announcing the start of another school year.
With that, Robby shuffled the newspaper back to its original neatly folded form, bounced to his feet and headed to his room stopping first by the couch to kiss his mom on the forehead. "I love you mom" he said in a tone that came from the beauty that is the innocence of childhood and was in no way a premeditated attempt to sway his mothers decision as to whether she would take him to the Mall or not.
As the morning slipped away, Robby thought about the day. With first a text message, and then a phone call, he was sure his plans would work out and he would be able to join his friends for an afternoon at the local Mall. "Mom, Gary said his mother will take us to the Mall, is that OK?" yelled Robby from his bedroom.
"Why don't we wait and go tomorrow afternoon when it's not so crowded" replied his mother, knowing full well that it was in fact because the Mall would be crowded with teenagers from around town that Robby was so set on going Sunday afternoon.
"OK, you can go, but be home for dinner by 6:00." said his mother as she handed him $40.00 to buy the basic papers and pens that were on his back to school list. "And make sure you have your phone with you in case I want to call you" she added as she picked up her phone to check with Gary's parents about the two teenagers plans for the day.
"Bye Mom, I'll be home later" Robby shouted as he bolted out the front door and ran to the driveway to join his best friend for the trip to the Mall and an afternoon of teenage adventure. "Call me when you get there" echoed across the yard as his mother pointed and waived from the doorway left open by his energetic dash from the house.
As he most always did, Robby followed the rules of the day set out by his mom. He called her when got to the Mall, he left his phone on, and most importantly, he was home by 6:00. "Well, did you get all your school supplies" his mother asked as he plopped a handful of bags on the kitchen table. "Yea, except I couldn't find a notebook I like so I need to go to another store before school starts" was his reply.
"I also got you something Mom" he said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. Reaching into one of the many bags spread in front of him, Robby pulled out a small rocking horse and handed it to his mother. "Do you like it?" he asked as he continued to gush with pride on his most special buy of the day.
"It's beautiful, and I will cherish it forever" said his mother as she bent down to hug him. "But how did you pay for it dear?" she asked as she felt her heart warming and tears swelling in her eyes. "It was from the money I got last Christmas" answered Robby as he pushed the tail of the rocking horse down and set it in motion on its maiden rock in its new home.
After a few moments of chatter as he showed his mom the school supplies he had purchased, Robby checked the items off his list one by one and then repacked the bags and hurriedly carried them off to his bedroom for safety as the new school year drew near.
Now standing alone in the house, years removed from those childhood school years, Robby once again pushed the tail of the rocking horse and set it into motion. With the horse slowly rocking in a smooth and soothing cadence, Robby thought back on those days. He thought about the smiles and loving hugs of his mother and of the day he gave her a gift. He reached again to the mantle and bobbed the tail of the horse to continue it's motion and as he did so, a warm tear streamed down his face.
If his mom could help take away his pain he knew that she would. Instead, he now stood alone in the house and in a world that seemed empty and gray. As Robby watched the horse rock in a quiet gallop, he realized that his days would never be the same. He loved his mother so much, there was nothing that could prepare him to hear that she had passed away.
Robby's mom had given her life to her family to help show and teach the way, and as he now stood alone he thought of her love and cried a small smile. For it was for his mother that he wiped away his tears, rocked the horse, and walked away.
All Rights Reserved
"But mom, we start back to school soon and I need to get the stuff on the list" continued Robby as he waived the 15 item list of school supplies sent in the mail to the houses of all students announcing the start of another school year.
With that, Robby shuffled the newspaper back to its original neatly folded form, bounced to his feet and headed to his room stopping first by the couch to kiss his mom on the forehead. "I love you mom" he said in a tone that came from the beauty that is the innocence of childhood and was in no way a premeditated attempt to sway his mothers decision as to whether she would take him to the Mall or not.
As the morning slipped away, Robby thought about the day. With first a text message, and then a phone call, he was sure his plans would work out and he would be able to join his friends for an afternoon at the local Mall. "Mom, Gary said his mother will take us to the Mall, is that OK?" yelled Robby from his bedroom.
"Why don't we wait and go tomorrow afternoon when it's not so crowded" replied his mother, knowing full well that it was in fact because the Mall would be crowded with teenagers from around town that Robby was so set on going Sunday afternoon.
"OK, you can go, but be home for dinner by 6:00." said his mother as she handed him $40.00 to buy the basic papers and pens that were on his back to school list. "And make sure you have your phone with you in case I want to call you" she added as she picked up her phone to check with Gary's parents about the two teenagers plans for the day.
"Bye Mom, I'll be home later" Robby shouted as he bolted out the front door and ran to the driveway to join his best friend for the trip to the Mall and an afternoon of teenage adventure. "Call me when you get there" echoed across the yard as his mother pointed and waived from the doorway left open by his energetic dash from the house.
As he most always did, Robby followed the rules of the day set out by his mom. He called her when got to the Mall, he left his phone on, and most importantly, he was home by 6:00. "Well, did you get all your school supplies" his mother asked as he plopped a handful of bags on the kitchen table. "Yea, except I couldn't find a notebook I like so I need to go to another store before school starts" was his reply.
"I also got you something Mom" he said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. Reaching into one of the many bags spread in front of him, Robby pulled out a small rocking horse and handed it to his mother. "Do you like it?" he asked as he continued to gush with pride on his most special buy of the day.
"It's beautiful, and I will cherish it forever" said his mother as she bent down to hug him. "But how did you pay for it dear?" she asked as she felt her heart warming and tears swelling in her eyes. "It was from the money I got last Christmas" answered Robby as he pushed the tail of the rocking horse down and set it in motion on its maiden rock in its new home.
After a few moments of chatter as he showed his mom the school supplies he had purchased, Robby checked the items off his list one by one and then repacked the bags and hurriedly carried them off to his bedroom for safety as the new school year drew near.
Now standing alone in the house, years removed from those childhood school years, Robby once again pushed the tail of the rocking horse and set it into motion. With the horse slowly rocking in a smooth and soothing cadence, Robby thought back on those days. He thought about the smiles and loving hugs of his mother and of the day he gave her a gift. He reached again to the mantle and bobbed the tail of the horse to continue it's motion and as he did so, a warm tear streamed down his face.
If his mom could help take away his pain he knew that she would. Instead, he now stood alone in the house and in a world that seemed empty and gray. As Robby watched the horse rock in a quiet gallop, he realized that his days would never be the same. He loved his mother so much, there was nothing that could prepare him to hear that she had passed away.
Robby's mom had given her life to her family to help show and teach the way, and as he now stood alone he thought of her love and cried a small smile. For it was for his mother that he wiped away his tears, rocked the horse, and walked away.
All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
It's A New Day
It may have started from hearing stories about the farmers who get up each day before the crack of dawn. Or, perhaps it was the commercial and the catch phrase, “we do more before breakfast then most people do all day.”
However it was that I got started, I too am a member of the early risers club. Although my work does not require me to leave the house each morning until just before eight, it is almost for certain that I am awake and out the door many hours before.
The early morning hours have become “my hours.” I feel as though I have the world to myself as I walk in the peace and quiet of what is both the end of the night, and the beginning of the new day.
During fall and winter, “my hours” are spent in the dark as I walk in the cold crisp air and enjoy the beauty of the night’s moon, and heavens still starlit display. I hear a question from my childhood as it echoes from within. “Did you see that?” Heard from afar, as the shooting star streaks across the sky and quickly fades away.
Come spring and summer, “my hours” are spent in the cool fresh air as I walk in wonder and watch the night turn to day. With beautiful clouds of blue, pink and gold, it is as if the sky is a canvass with a new painting each morn. I listen to the birds as they begin to wake, their morning songs adding sound to the new day.
As with the seasons of the year, our lives change as we walk along our way. It is with joy that I have found “my hours” and in doing so, see the beauty of each new day
All Rights Reserved
However it was that I got started, I too am a member of the early risers club. Although my work does not require me to leave the house each morning until just before eight, it is almost for certain that I am awake and out the door many hours before.
The early morning hours have become “my hours.” I feel as though I have the world to myself as I walk in the peace and quiet of what is both the end of the night, and the beginning of the new day.
During fall and winter, “my hours” are spent in the dark as I walk in the cold crisp air and enjoy the beauty of the night’s moon, and heavens still starlit display. I hear a question from my childhood as it echoes from within. “Did you see that?” Heard from afar, as the shooting star streaks across the sky and quickly fades away.
Come spring and summer, “my hours” are spent in the cool fresh air as I walk in wonder and watch the night turn to day. With beautiful clouds of blue, pink and gold, it is as if the sky is a canvass with a new painting each morn. I listen to the birds as they begin to wake, their morning songs adding sound to the new day.
As with the seasons of the year, our lives change as we walk along our way. It is with joy that I have found “my hours” and in doing so, see the beauty of each new day
All Rights Reserved
Friday, October 2, 2009
The School Bus
Chapter 1
Before the words came out of her mouth, panic had already filled her mind and body. "Where is Wil?" blurted his mother Joyce. "Oh my GOD, where is Wil?" she repeated as the sounds of her first question still hung in the air.
With fear now racing through every fiber in her body, Joyce stepped onto the school bus, looked from front to back, turned to the part time school district bus driver and pressed, Oh my GOD where is Wil?"
With first a blank stare that in and of itself could answer her question, the driver turned to Joyce and said, "I'm sorry ma'am, who are you looking for" With that, Joyce as would any parent, felt the blood pounding in her heart as she shouted, "my 3rd grade son, Wil. This is his bus stop, Oh my GOD, where is my son?"
"Wait! wait!" hollered Joyce as she jumped from the bus and quickly approached the toddlers who had already climb off the bus. "Where is Wil?" she frantically asked as she grabbed the arm of one of Wil's classmates and a neighborhood companion Alex Archer.
"I don't know Mrs. Sims, I was playing tick-tack-toe with Bobby ever since we left school." As thoughts of the unknown now raced through her mind, Joyce tried to calm herself as she squeezed young Alex's arm a little tighter before saying,"Look at me Alex...did Wil get on the bus before it left the school?"
"Yes ma'am, I saw him yelling out of the window at Scotty McCarver right before we left" answered Alex, oblivious to the significance of his answer or to the panic that had now overtaken Joyce, the bus driver and all the adults who happened to be at the bus stop to pick up the children.
"Call 911.. call 911" someone yelled as Joyce stood on the street corner now in tears and feeling sick in the pit of her stomach. "It's ringing now" said the bus driver has he paced in short circles as the magnitude of the event closed in on him.
"My name is Shawn Charlton, I drive a school bus for the district and I need to report a missing child." said the bus driver to the 911 operator who had answered the call."OK sir, what happened?" asked the voice of the other end of the phone that was now visually shaking in the bus drivers hand.
"I'm not sure exactly, but" continued the driver, "we made a stop on the bus route and one child is missing." "I'm pretty sure he got on the bus at the school but he's not here now" said the driver sounding confused and shaken.
"I need you to calm down sir" replied the operator to the bus driver who had become increasingly more animated as he tried to replay in his mind the stops and starts he had made on his afternoon route.
In what seemed like both 30 minutes, and 30 seconds at the same time, sirens could now be heard racing through the tree lined streets of the normally quiet neighborhood as local police raced towards the bus stop that was now the center of the world to a mother facing her worst imaginable nightmare. Her child was missing.
All Rights Reserved
Before the words came out of her mouth, panic had already filled her mind and body. "Where is Wil?" blurted his mother Joyce. "Oh my GOD, where is Wil?" she repeated as the sounds of her first question still hung in the air.
With fear now racing through every fiber in her body, Joyce stepped onto the school bus, looked from front to back, turned to the part time school district bus driver and pressed, Oh my GOD where is Wil?"
With first a blank stare that in and of itself could answer her question, the driver turned to Joyce and said, "I'm sorry ma'am, who are you looking for" With that, Joyce as would any parent, felt the blood pounding in her heart as she shouted, "my 3rd grade son, Wil. This is his bus stop, Oh my GOD, where is my son?"
"Wait! wait!" hollered Joyce as she jumped from the bus and quickly approached the toddlers who had already climb off the bus. "Where is Wil?" she frantically asked as she grabbed the arm of one of Wil's classmates and a neighborhood companion Alex Archer.
"I don't know Mrs. Sims, I was playing tick-tack-toe with Bobby ever since we left school." As thoughts of the unknown now raced through her mind, Joyce tried to calm herself as she squeezed young Alex's arm a little tighter before saying,"Look at me Alex...did Wil get on the bus before it left the school?"
"Yes ma'am, I saw him yelling out of the window at Scotty McCarver right before we left" answered Alex, oblivious to the significance of his answer or to the panic that had now overtaken Joyce, the bus driver and all the adults who happened to be at the bus stop to pick up the children.
"Call 911.. call 911" someone yelled as Joyce stood on the street corner now in tears and feeling sick in the pit of her stomach. "It's ringing now" said the bus driver has he paced in short circles as the magnitude of the event closed in on him.
"My name is Shawn Charlton, I drive a school bus for the district and I need to report a missing child." said the bus driver to the 911 operator who had answered the call."OK sir, what happened?" asked the voice of the other end of the phone that was now visually shaking in the bus drivers hand.
"I'm not sure exactly, but" continued the driver, "we made a stop on the bus route and one child is missing." "I'm pretty sure he got on the bus at the school but he's not here now" said the driver sounding confused and shaken.
"I need you to calm down sir" replied the operator to the bus driver who had become increasingly more animated as he tried to replay in his mind the stops and starts he had made on his afternoon route.
In what seemed like both 30 minutes, and 30 seconds at the same time, sirens could now be heard racing through the tree lined streets of the normally quiet neighborhood as local police raced towards the bus stop that was now the center of the world to a mother facing her worst imaginable nightmare. Her child was missing.
All Rights Reserved
Sunday, September 27, 2009
The School Bus
Chapter 2
"Slow down,I can't understand you dear, what's going on?" said Joyce's husband, and Wil's father, Jim Sims as he swiveled in his desk chair trying to grasp what was being said to him.
"It's Wil, he's not on the school bus" cried Joyce as she spoke to her husband at his office. "I walked to the corner to meet the bus and he's not here" continued Joyce, her voice now trembling. "What do you mean he's not there?" snapped Jim in a tone that although sounding harsh and aggressive, was actually now riddled with the same fear that had already overtaken his wife.
"I'm leaving right now, I'll be there in twenty minutes." Jim said as he sprang from behind his desk and began to sprint down the hall towards the front door that would lead him to his car. "I've got a family emergency, I'll call you when I can." Jim yelled to a co-worker as he rammed through the double glass doors and darted from the building, then across the courtyard leading to the parking lot.
After jumping into his car and screeching from the employee parking lot, Jim mashed his foot on the cars accelerator and sped towards the gated community on the outskirts of Red River Valley. Still learning the back roads to the house that he and his family had moved into just two months earlier, and with thoughts of his son Wil racing through his mind, Jim, as he had done on several occasions over the summer, found himself once again questioning why he had taken the new job and uprooted his family from the only home they had ever known back in Myatt, Indiana.
First one, then two, and within five minutes, the third and fourth Red River Valley Police cars arrived at the corner of Rapids Street and Pebble Avenue. With lights flashing and microphones squawking, the normally calm intersection now took on the appearance of a police crime scene or made for television reality show as police offers converged on the school bus, which was still idling with its red traffic stopping lights blinking to alert oncoming traffic that students were unloading from the bus.
"What do we have?" asked Police Sergeant Bruce Anderson as he joined fellow officers already on the scene. "Not totally clear yet" responded Officer Fain. "But, it appears we have a missing child." "This is his mom over here", said Officer Fain pointing to Wil's mom as she stood at the front of the bus speaking with the first officer who had arrived, Leo Arnley. "And", continued Officer Fain, the gentlemen with the pig - tail is the bus driver for the school district.
"Give me the details" said Sergeant Anderson as he reached to turn the radio volume down on the small walkie - talkie attached to his shoulder that under normal circumstances would keep him within earshot of all radio traffic taking place in the fifth police precinct of Red River Valley of which he was the on the ground commander.
"Well, best we can tell" started Officer Fain, "we have a 3rd grade child who according to other students, got on the bus at the school and when his mother came to this stop to meet him, he didn't get off." With that, Sergeant Anderson interrupted the officer to ask, "are there cameras on this bus and are we sure that the child was on the bus when it left the school?"
"I'm sorry but I can't answer those questions Sir, perhaps we can speak with the driver" replied Officer Fain as he began to feel perspiration running down his forehead at the thought of not being able to answer the basic questions asked of him by his boss Sergeant Anderson. "Get him over here, now!" barked Sargent Anderson as he from this point on would take control of the investigation into the disappearance of 3rd grader Wil Sims.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
"Slow down,I can't understand you dear, what's going on?" said Joyce's husband, and Wil's father, Jim Sims as he swiveled in his desk chair trying to grasp what was being said to him.
"It's Wil, he's not on the school bus" cried Joyce as she spoke to her husband at his office. "I walked to the corner to meet the bus and he's not here" continued Joyce, her voice now trembling. "What do you mean he's not there?" snapped Jim in a tone that although sounding harsh and aggressive, was actually now riddled with the same fear that had already overtaken his wife.
"I'm leaving right now, I'll be there in twenty minutes." Jim said as he sprang from behind his desk and began to sprint down the hall towards the front door that would lead him to his car. "I've got a family emergency, I'll call you when I can." Jim yelled to a co-worker as he rammed through the double glass doors and darted from the building, then across the courtyard leading to the parking lot.
After jumping into his car and screeching from the employee parking lot, Jim mashed his foot on the cars accelerator and sped towards the gated community on the outskirts of Red River Valley. Still learning the back roads to the house that he and his family had moved into just two months earlier, and with thoughts of his son Wil racing through his mind, Jim, as he had done on several occasions over the summer, found himself once again questioning why he had taken the new job and uprooted his family from the only home they had ever known back in Myatt, Indiana.
First one, then two, and within five minutes, the third and fourth Red River Valley Police cars arrived at the corner of Rapids Street and Pebble Avenue. With lights flashing and microphones squawking, the normally calm intersection now took on the appearance of a police crime scene or made for television reality show as police offers converged on the school bus, which was still idling with its red traffic stopping lights blinking to alert oncoming traffic that students were unloading from the bus.
"What do we have?" asked Police Sergeant Bruce Anderson as he joined fellow officers already on the scene. "Not totally clear yet" responded Officer Fain. "But, it appears we have a missing child." "This is his mom over here", said Officer Fain pointing to Wil's mom as she stood at the front of the bus speaking with the first officer who had arrived, Leo Arnley. "And", continued Officer Fain, the gentlemen with the pig - tail is the bus driver for the school district.
"Give me the details" said Sergeant Anderson as he reached to turn the radio volume down on the small walkie - talkie attached to his shoulder that under normal circumstances would keep him within earshot of all radio traffic taking place in the fifth police precinct of Red River Valley of which he was the on the ground commander.
"Well, best we can tell" started Officer Fain, "we have a 3rd grade child who according to other students, got on the bus at the school and when his mother came to this stop to meet him, he didn't get off." With that, Sergeant Anderson interrupted the officer to ask, "are there cameras on this bus and are we sure that the child was on the bus when it left the school?"
"I'm sorry but I can't answer those questions Sir, perhaps we can speak with the driver" replied Officer Fain as he began to feel perspiration running down his forehead at the thought of not being able to answer the basic questions asked of him by his boss Sergeant Anderson. "Get him over here, now!" barked Sargent Anderson as he from this point on would take control of the investigation into the disappearance of 3rd grader Wil Sims.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
