by Mary Knight
“I’m sorry, Jules,” I whisper. “I don’t know what came over me.”
I guess the mike picks up my words, because I hear a voice from the crowd shout, “I do!”
Oh, Lord, it’s JD.
People are starting to laugh, and I’m not sure if it’s a “laughing at” or a “laughing with.” What must JD be thinking? His own best friend kissing his girl—in front of a national audience. What was I thinking?
That’s just it. I wasn’t.
But JD’s not storming the porch, ready to tear my guts out. No. He’s applauding along with everyone else. How can that possibly be?
And Jules. She’s smiling, too. Shy, but smiling. Could it be that instead of stepping into something excremental this time, I actually stepped into something fine?
Right when I have no idea what to say next, I hear Mr. A’s booming voice start to chant, “Save our mountain! Save our mountain!” and I wonder if he knows he’s also saving my goat. He’s soon joined by everyone around him, including the man I’ve been addressing at the center of the crowd, who is now pumping his fist in the air to punctuate every phrase.
“Okay, you two.” Mrs. C covers the mike to talk to us while the crowd continues to chant. “I think it’s time to take some questions from the press—if you think you’re up for it.”
“Sure,” Jules says.
Bring ’em on, I want to shout, but I nod instead. Actually, I’m relieved to be fielding questions right about now. At least that’s something we’ve rehearsed.
What I’m not ready for is what happens next with Jules. Like … what do I do with her hand that’s still holding my arm? Should I take it in mine? I’d like to. And what do I do now that I’ve kissed her? Should I kiss her again? And when? Certainly not here. And dang, if they aren’t asking us about our relationship, right off the bat. What should I say now? Has it changed? Are we still friends?
“No comment,” says Jules, smiling coyly at the press, setting off that feeding frenzy Mr. A warned us about.
“No comment,” I add, catching the eye of our science teacher laughing his head off.
That’s when I also notice Helen winding her way through the crowd, followed by a short, heavyset gentleman in a white shirt and a dark brown suit, carrying a piece of paper in his hand.
I’ve never been so glad to see someone in all my life.
“Greetings from the Cherokee,” Helen begins as she steps up to the microphone. “We bring great news.” She looks straight down at the lineup of reporters and cameramen to make sure she has their attention. “We have confirmed the location of an ancient Cherokee burial site on Red Hawk Mountain.”
You can almost feel the whole crowd catch its breath. Loud murmurs ripple through the audience. Jules still hasn’t let go of my arm, and now she’s tugging on it like she’s milking a cow, not that I’m complaining.
“And there’s more to the site than we thought.” Helen turns around and winks at us. “We didn’t just discover one burial mound, but an entire system of mounds covering a large section of the mountaintop. In addition to this discovery, we’ve also discovered another site—ancient petroglyphs on a rock outcropping at the base of the mountain buried under trees and brush. The petroglyphs tell the story of ancient Cherokee life here in the mountains of Kentucky. There is no doubt in any of our minds that this mountain, Tsiwodi, was considered a sacred mountain by our ancestors going back to the beginning of time.
“Some folks would like to believe that our people only used Kentucky as a hunting ground—that we were just passing through. This discovery puts that myth to rest for good.”
Jules’s eyes look like they’re about to bug right out of their sockets, and I’m sure mine do, too. Helen hands the microphone over to the man standing next to her, introducing him as Justin Henry, a Cherokee tribal lawyer.
“Not only have the experts found human remains,” he begins, “they have also found Cherokee artifacts dating back two thousand years, complete with symbols of the Bird Clan. This discovery is exciting to the Cherokee—as it should be to all of us—because it connects the people of the present with the people of the past. Because of this, the archeologists are designating this site as one with ‘national historic significance.’ ”
I’m noticing a lot of puzzled faces when Mr. Henry quickly adds, “That may sound like a mouthful, my friends, but it has led to this.” And he holds the piece of paper above his head.
“This is a copy of a federal injunction I’ve just delivered to Tiverton Coal. It orders them to halt their mining operation here on Red Hawk Mountain.”
Cheers erupt. Jules and I are holding on to each other’s arms at the elbows, jumping up and down … until Mr. Henry raises his hand again.
“Unfortunately, this order is only effective until the federal court rules on whether or not the site should be preserved. That could take a while. A lot depends on what more the archeologists find … and a lot also depends on you.”
Ever since Tiverton Coal has been threatening to blow up Red Hawk Mountain, I’ve had a fire in my gut to save it. Now that I’ve met Helen and stood in a circle with her and her friends? That fire has flared into a raging bonfire at the thought of their sacred burial grounds getting all torn up. There’s so much more to lose.
Helen hands Mr. Henry a clipboard.
“This is a petition to the federal court to rule in favor of preservation,” Mr. Henry continues. “There’s power in numbers, and there seems to be a whole lot of folks who have heard about our mountain recently … and they care.” He smiles at me and Jules. “This petition could be the very thing that not only saves our sacred sites, but saves Red Hawk Mountain for good.”
The crowd is applauding like crazy now. Mr. Henry hands the petition down to Mr. A, who immediately signs it and starts passing it around. JD is giving Jules and me another thumbs-up. I return it, wishing he could be up here with us.
“My friends,” Mr. Henry continues once the applause has died down. “There is much to celebrate here, but … we can’t afford to celebrate for long. Please hear me. Although we’re cautiously optimistic, we need everyone to remain vigilant of the mountain until the process is complete. Orders such as the one I hold in my hand can sometimes be ignored by those who would just as soon pay a fine than compromise their bottom line.”
I don’t know about the rest of the folks, but those of us who come from the mountains know all too well that what he says is true, and there’s a whole lot of boo-hissing going on. Mr. Henry steps back from the microphone, inviting Helen forward again. Everyone hushes to hear her final words.
“What started as a young man’s plea to save his mountain has now become so much more. That, my friends, is the power of a single voice.” She holds up one finger in the air. “Imagine the power of many.” She raises both arms to encompass the crowd, letting her invitation hang in the air.
“These two young people here beside me—Curley and Jules—have cast a vision for Red Hawk Mountain,” she says, almost in a whisper. “And it’s up to all of us to keep that vision alive.”
“Aho,” Jules and I both say, laughing shyly at each other. It certainly feels like the perfect time for an “amen.” I sure do hope the Creator knows Jules and I could use some help watching over our mountain right now, especially since I might not be around to watch it with her.
Fortunately, the press is now focused on Helen and her lawyer friend, because I’m in no shape to be “on” anymore. I know that sounds strange, what with the good news we just heard and all, but the thought of leaving Wonder Gap has sent me sliding. I feel like I’m sinking into a mudhole so deep, no vine or stick could possibly pull me out.
I’m staring at the gray floorboards of our porch when I feel the weight of Papaw’s arm across my shoulders. “You did well, son,” he says, giving me a big hug and then drawing Jules into it, too—bringing us gently together in the room of his arms. “The two of you made all of us here in Wonder Gap real proud.”
“Yeah, C
urley,” Jules says. “We make a good team.”
And then she kisses me on the cheek.
“I guess that makes us even.” I smile, staring at her dimple.
“For now,” she says.
Wonder—noun
1 : that emotion which is excited by novelty, or the presentation to the sight or mind of something new, unusual, strange, great, extraordinary, or not well understood; surprise; astonishment; admiration; amazement
2 : a cause of wonder; that which excites surprise; a strange thing; a prodigy; a miracle
Wonder—verb
1 : to be affected with surprise or admiration; to be struck with astonishment; to be amazed; to marvel
2 : to feel doubt and curiosity; to wait with uncertain expectation
Papaw declares a hiatus (h word, last summer) on our words for the next few weeks. He says we need to catch up to our alphabet, and I need to catch up with school. He’s right, of course. Now that Tiverton Coal has pulled out of Wonder Gap, hopefully for good, and the press ran our story, I only have three weeks of school left to study for final exams and to bring up my grades.
“Besides,” Papaw said with that twinkle in his eye, “it’s May in Wonder Gap and it makes sense to leave wonder running for a while.”
There’s plenty to wonder at, that’s for sure. For one thing, we’re finally getting warmer weather. The wild rhodies are out, dotting the woods in lavenders, reds, and flaming pinks. And Ma’s white peony bushes on either side of the porch are throwing off a powerful scent.
Jules and I have been hanging out on top of Ol’ Charley, soaking up the sun as much as possible and studying. We quiz each other on history dates, biology terms, and such, so it’s not as if we’re sharing intimate secrets or anything. That is, until one pops out. It’s about a week after our press conference, and we’re studying for Mr. A’s biology exam.
Somewhere between osmosis and diffusion, Jules blurts out of the blue, “JD and I broke up.” She must see the blank look on my face, because she asks, “Aren’t you surprised?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Well, no … Maybe?” Here Jules is telling me the news I’ve longed to hear ever since JD came to town, and I don’t know what I think. “You guys have been acting differently ever since that day in the cafeteria when you stalked off in a huff. What happened?”
“Actually, we broke up that afternoon. He caught up with me after study hall and told me he was sorry about Ol’ Charley, how he had been insensitive and all. You know me, I forgave him immediately.” Yes, I do know her, which was why I told JD what she wanted to hear in the first place.
“Well, I wasn’t sure what to say after that. I’d been thinking about breaking up with him for a while, but then, he was being so sweet about Ol’ Charley, I just didn’t have the heart.” She drops her notebook off the trunk and pulls her knees up to her chin, facing me. “That’s when he told me his dad is kicking him out of the house. He’s moving back to Indiana to live with his mom right after school gets out.”
Well, I about fall off Ol’ Charley. I knew things were rough between JD and his dad, particularly since we posted our video on the Internet, but I had no idea it was this bad. Poor JD. He must feel like one of those transplanted elk that doesn’t know where home is.
“Anyway, he thought it was best to break up now,” Jules continues. “ ‘No use postponing the inevitable,’ he said.” I overheard those exact same words the other night when Papaw and Aunt Gertie were talking about moving us up to Cincinnati.
Jules starts running the tasseled top of a long blade of grass up and down my bare arm, and I’d swear it’s giving me goose pimples inside and out. “JD said I deserve somebody who understands me,” she says, “somebody who shares my love for the mountains, that kind of thing.”
All of a sudden, this change comes over her that’s hard to describe. It’s like she gets all soft and gauzy, and it’s scaring me to death.
“When I asked him if he had anybody in mind, he just smiled and said he wasn’t ‘naming any names.’ I think that’s kind of weird, don’t you?” And then she gives me this really pointed look. I mean, if it were any sharper, it would stick to my face.
So what do I do?
I shrug.
Yeah, that’s right, I shrug, like I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about.
“Honestly, Curley. You’re impossible,” she says. And she packs up her book bag and stomps off in a huff. It’s a familiar huff.
I know, I know. I missed my chance.
Believe me. I’ve been kicking myself for the last three weeks for not driving my truck straight through that barn door she was holding wide open for me. I mean, she had my name painted all over it.
In red.
With hearts.
I’ve tossed and turned and knotted up my bedsheets, fretting over what I should have said and what I should have done. Dang! I know I should have kissed her.
But how could I? I knew something I didn’t have the heart to tell her yet.
I’d be leaving, too.
If you’ve ever looked up the x section in the dictionary, then you know there’s not much to it, not even half a page. Papaw and I ran out of all the good x words several years ago, which is why he now gives me words in which the letter x plays an important part, as in excellent or exasperate (x word, last spring).
Papaw must know that leaving Jules and Wonder Gap is wringing my guts out, because the Sunday before school lets out, he gives me excruciating. It reminds me of the Cruciatus Curse in the Harry Potter books I devoured a few years ago—the curse that Voldemort inflicts on Harry that causes him such unbearable pain. I’m tempted to give Papaw the word right back, but I know he’s just trying to be helpful.
“Sometimes, when you can put a word to something, it helps take the sting out,” he said, but honestly, I think that’s wishful thinking.
Jules knows by now, of course, that we’re packing up to go. She stayed away for a whole week after I told her, but then her ma convinced her she was wasting valuable time that could be spent living.
We’ve taken to sitting on my front porch in the evenings having rocking chair races. I know that sounds crazy, but we like to pretend we’re horses at the Kentucky Derby. The one who counts the most rocks from tip to tip “out of the gate” in sixty seconds wins. When we really get going, I’d swear you can hear the sound of hooves pounding the track. Anyway, it helps keep our minds off things. At least, that’s what we’re trying to do.
I don’t know. If excruciating were a curse you were concocting like the one in the Harry Potter books, it would surely contain a pinch of play or a memory of joy. It seems that every second I spend with Jules these days makes the thought of leaving that much more painful.
It’s even hard to say good-bye to JD.
Jules and I are racing rockers on my porch again when JD’s ma drops him off for a few hours to hang out with us one more time before he leaves for Indiana the next day. I guess she came down for the weekend to pick him up.
We hand him the stopwatch and run a race to show him how we’ve been spending our time now that we’re done with school and have saved our mountain—at least for now. We get him laughing so hard he about pees his pants, or so he says.
“You crazy hillbillies. It’s a good thing I’m getting out of this God-forsaken place. If I stayed any longer, I might lose my cool.”
I grab the stopwatch from his hand. “Too late, JD. You lost your cool as soon as you stepped foot in Wonder Gap, didn’t he, Jules?” But Jules is sitting silently in her rocker with tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Ah, chill out, spunky girl.” JD pulls her up and gives her a hug. “We said we weren’t going to do this, right? Heck, we’ll see each other more on the Internet than we ever did here in these hills.”
“Not the same” is all she says, and we know she’s right.
Later, we go in and watch a special news report I downloaded last Sunday about our campaign to save Red Hawk Mountain. They added a really
nice interview with Helen sitting on Ol’ Charley by my family’s graves with Red Hawk rising in the background. Afterward, we check the counter on our You2CanChangetheWorld.com video for old times’ sake.
Topless in Wonder Gap: 2,344,712 views and counting.
“Sweet,” JD proclaims. “Not only are they featuring us up front now, but we’re even attracting a few advertisers. Not bad for three scrawny, renegade teenagers from Wonder Gap, Kentucky. We rock, man!” We all exchange fist bumps, which is another thing I’ve learned how to do since JD came along.
“Yeah, man … we rock,” I echo, but my words fall as flat as roadkill.
“Stick to your own way of talking, Curley, my man.” JD slaps me on the back. “You’ve got way more cool than I’ll ever have.” High praise from the bad boy himself, and I’m basking in it when he adds, “Those Cincinnati chicks are gonna love you.”
No sooner do those words come out of his mouth than we both know where and how they’re going to land. Sure enough, Jules looks like a load of bricks just crashed right over her.
“Jules …” JD starts, but Jules gets up and gives him a hug.
“Don’t worry, JD. You’re fine. I need to get going, okay?” It’s obvious that she’s holding back tears.
“Sure,” he says. “I’ll call you this weekend … from Indiana, okay?”
“Sure,” she says. “See you later, Curley.”
Her hair curtains her face.
She slips out the back door.
All the joy in the room goes with her.
Excruciating—adjective
: extremely painful, distressing, torturing, racking
By now, you might think that Papaw only gives me words that no kids my age have ever heard of. Sometimes, I think that, too. But then, after I get to know one of those words and use it? It climbs down from that hoity-toity tower I’ve put it on and lives with me where I walk.
Not all the words Papaw gives me are like that, though. Sometimes, he gives me a commonplace word that we use all the time—to wake me up to it, he says. I’ve learned those are the ones to watch out for. “Never take any word for granted,” he tells me. “They all have the power to shape our world.
