by Darrel Bird
tied to a fence post and was beating the mule with a trace chain. My dad got out of the truck and just walked over and knocked that feller clean out cold, turned the mule loose and got back in the truck and he never said a word. The feller threatened to call the sheriff and press charges, but he was too afraid of Dad to do it.
We skidded logs all that week, and by the weekend I was getting the soreness worked out and getting toughened up to the work. Come Sunday we went down to Culpepper Baptist church like we always done every Sunday since I could remember anything at all. That went pretty far back when you’re all of 14 years old.
When we got to the church house, there was Julie all dressed up and looking pretty. Her dad was keeping a close eye on her as usual, but I was tired of getting the run around from him, so when we walked in I sat down beside her on the last pew, and we sat and held hands all through the service.
Her dad kept looking over his shoulder and glaring at me, but he never said a word. My heart was filled to overflowing so bad I couldn’t hardly walk or talk, and I was in love; there weren’t no doubt. I caught Dad grinning out of the corner of my eye, he just never grinned in church neither that I could remember. Fact is, he never grinned anywhere else much neither.
Julie and I walked out to their truck still holding hands, I stumbled twice I felt so awkward, but I got through it.
“Pokey, are you and your dad going to the woods too skid logs again this week?”
“Yeah, I reckon we are, why?”
“I made something for you; my mother helped me sew it, could you come over to the house this afternoon?”
“Yeah, I reckon I can do that.”
About that time her folks walked up to the truck, her dad looking like he had been at a green persimmon patch.
“Get in the truck, Julie.”
“See you later Pokey.”
“See you.”
After Sunday dinner, I got on my bicycle and rode the two miles down to Julie’s house and knocked on the door. Her Dad was in the sitting room reading the paper.
“Well come on in boy and close the door, what do you want?”
“I’m here to see Julie, Mr. Bates.”
He sat there and looked over his spectacles like he had just spotted a rattlesnake in the door.
Mrs. Bates came from the kitchen, “Julie’s up in her room Pokey, go on up.”
“Yes ma’am, thank you,” I said as gracious as polite as I could with my ball cap in my hand like a real gentleman.
I stumbled twice going up them stairs; my heart was beating like a jack hammer as I knocked gently on her door.
“Come in, Pokey.” I opened the door and there stood the most beautiful girl this side of heaven, I do believe.
“Here is the gift I made for you.” She got the shirt off the bed where it was laid out, and held it up for me to look at. The shirt was light blue and had hand stitched guitars on the front. Her mom was known to be the best seamstress in sheep skin valley, or any other valley for that matter, and it looked like Julie was following in her footsteps. That was the most beautiful shirt I have ever laid eyes on.
“Do you like it?” I saw a glint of fear dart through her eyes.
“Of course I like it, Julie; who wouldn’t? Wow!”
She stood there looking picture perfect with that big smile on her face, and I almost melted and ran into my shoes.
We talked awhile, and then I declared I had to go. She walked with me down the stairs to the door, “See you at church next Sunday, Pokey.”
“Yeah, soon as we get in from logging.”
Then she done something completely unexpected; she reached up and kissed me on the cheek, then turned around and walked through the sitting room past her dad.
Her dad glared at me and spoke right directly to me, “Ya’ll be careful up there in them woods, boy.” Then he turned back to his paper.
I went away with a bunch of confused feelings that day for sure, Dad and I headed back up to the woods on Monday morning, but the trip in seemed shorter, and I had something in my heart that I can’t quite explain. It made the whole world seem like such a pleasant place to be in.
I had heard my Mom talking to my Dad that Sunday evening, “Tom, do you think kids can fall in love at 14?”
“Well, there’s something going on in the boy and that Bates girl.”
We got back to the felled timber the next morning by ten. Dawg was running around barking at the mules and making a nuisance of his self.
“Shut that dog up, boy.”
“Ok, Dad.” I walked over and whacked him across the nose with a limb, then turned to setting the tongs on a big oak log, and about the time I got the tongs set in the end of the log, a swarm of hornets come from somewhere out of a nearby tree and hit the mules. The mules jumped hard, sideways into the traces, and the log swung around and pinned Dad between it and another standing tree. It knocked me down and drug the log over my legs.
The mules had broken the traces and kept on going.
Dad lay about 13 feet away, not moving, “Dad are you ok?” I heard him moan so I knew he wasn’t out. I tried moving my leg, but pain shot up through my hip, and the leg looked weird and crooked.
Dad pulled himself to a sitting position at the bole of the tree he had gotten pinned against.
“You ok boy?”
“I think my leg is bad broke dad, it looks funny and it hurts like the dickens to move it.”
“I don’t think I can help you, son. I think my chest is caved in, and my hip feels like it’s broke.”
He sounded like he was having a hard time breathing and talking. His voice sounded so weak too.
“We in a hell of a mess ain’t we, dad?”
“Now boy don’t you be using unnecessary language, but yeah, I think we are in trouble, ain’t no gettin’ around it. Can you crawl over here by me?”
“Owwww! No, I don’t think I can right now, Dad.” When I tried to move I very near passed out, the sickness and the pain left me bathed in sweat.
“How we going to get out of here, Dad?”
“We ain’t unless someone comes and fetches us. It’s just gone bad wrong for us, son.
Dawg came over and licked my face and whined, he knew something was wrong, he just couldn’t figure out what. He began making the rounds between dad and me. He quit going back and forth after about an hour, and came back and laid down by me, his head on his paws with his back legs spread out behind him in that funny way he had of laying.
Dad wasn’t moving, “Dad, you ok?” He didn’t answer, panic went through me like a shot, and I knew we were in some bad trouble.
“Dawg, come here, boy.” The dog got up and ambled over, I took him by the scruff of the neck, “You got to go home and get help boy, we ain’t got nobody else, you hear me now… go on. Git!”
Dawg whimpered, but he just looked at me with them eyes and one pointed ear.
I never had prayed before, not really. Mom had taught me to say prayers at bedtime, but I had left that off a long time ago.
“God, you have got to hear me and send that dog for help. Dad’s in bad shape, so it’s up to you to get us out of here. Please God, I’ll do anything, just let my dad get help. You know he loves you, and he’s a good man. Me, I ain’t so much, but I need help for my dad.”
I was met with the silence of the forest, the wind sang softly through the trees and a crow cawed somewhere off in the distance. Dawg laid there whimpering like he was disappointed in himself because he couldn’t figure out what to do.
We laid there another hour, I tried to crawl to where Dad was, but every time I moved I got dizzy and near to passing out.
Once the woods and the air turned all gray and a roaring set up in my head like a gushing water fall. I felt real sick in my stomach, but either it passed or I was out and woke up. My face was laying in the leaves, and ants were on my face and hands.
All of a sudden that dog got up and took off running like a shot, and it didn’t look like he was coming back an
y way soon. I figured he had seen him a rabbit or something.
“Well, I guess two injured people ain’t much entertainment for a dog.” My voice sounded strange in the hush of the forest.
Pain washed over me in waves if I moved. The rest of the time it was a dull thud every time my heart beat.
Dad moaned and sat up, sweat layered his forehead, “What time is it do you reckon, son?”
“Its getting nigh onto four o’clock I think, it’ll be sundown soon, you was out for a long time, Dad. Do you reckon Mom will send someone when we don’t come home?”
“I don’t know, son; I’ve stayed a many a night up here if I had just a half day’s work next day. I got to quit talking, boy, but you can talk to me if you want.”
We laid there for the better part of the next two hours, and somewhere along the line, Dad passed out again.
“God, don’t let my Dad die up here.” I prayed softly. I was wishing Dawg was around to keep company anyhow. I was about the most scared and the most hurt I had ever been.
The sun slowly sank behind the trees. We were down in a hollow, and I knew dark would come on fast.
“Dad…dad!” I got no answer and the tears of frustration came unbidden as darkness fell in
