Echoes of Newtown. Blake Fite

Echoes of Newtown - Blake Fite


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      The Map says “Go North!”

      The next morning, Billy woke up with a fiery zest. First, I better tell Rascal, he thought. A loud racket downstairs reminded Billy that he needed to consider how to get around his Uncle John. Guess he’s stumblin’ inside after another long night on the porch, he thought.

      He leapt off the bed and flipped around to face it. Lifting up his quilt, he reached into the darkness underneath the bed frame and pulled out an old army box that belonged to his Pa. Let’s see what we got here. He rummaged a bit tempering his excitement with restraint so as not to damage any of his Pa’s old things. Just what I need—a map!

      Billy looked over the map to find his current location. So, we’re … here, Billy thought as he found Ladd on the map. And, Aunt Sunny is … HERE, Billy thought, putting his right index finger on the black dot marked “Harrisonburg”—a few inches due north of Ladd on the map. Billy inched his index finger along the map, measuring about 40 miles between the two cities. That ain’t bad, he thought.

      “We’re going north!” Billy exclaimed with satisfaction, slapping his hand down on the map. Realizing his outburst, he quieted himself to keep from exposing his plan to his Uncle John and re-folded the map along its well-worn creases.

      “I gotta tell Rascal!” Billy muttered as he rummaged through the rest of the contents of his Pa’s old army box. “A canteen! Perfect!” Billy exclaimed as he shuffled through other items: a few slices of old army soap, a partially used roll of medical tape, and a tin cup.

      What am I going to do with a Bible? Billy thought, as he moved his Pa’s worn Bible to the side to grab hold of what looked like fishing line. “Yes!” Billy whispered, “Line and tackle! Fish it is!” Billy continued as he imagined himself slapping a fresh young Bluegill onto a blazing fire.

      “That’ll do it for now,” Billy said, as he closed up the box and slid it back under the bed. “I’d better finish this later, or I’ll miss Rascal.”

      Without even so much as a creaking floorboard, Billy snuck out past his Uncle John and bolted toward the general store, where the boys had a habit of meeting over the summer months. Billy tried to suppress his hopes as he ran. Rascal has it good here. Maybe he won’t want any part of this. But by the time the general store was in view, all of Billy’s doubts gave way to excitement, and he almost shouted ahead of himself, “PACK A BAG, RASCAL! WE’RE GETTING OUT OF HERE!” Before he could, the clerk called out, “Whatcha up to, Billy?” Billy stopped and attempted to force his smile into one of those adult expression’s grownups make when they talk about the clouds moving in.

      “Oh, good morning, Sir. Good day for fishing, I reckon,” Billy responded.

      The interaction reminded Billy that he’d better keep his plan secret if he didn’t want to get sent right back to his Uncle John’s for a whoopin’. Rascal and I best get somewhere private, he thought.

      “That’ll be nine cents, son,” the clerk said to Billy—now with a handful of worms wriggling through his fingers.

      Just then, Rascal entered the general store, “Mornin’, Sir.”

      “Morning, boy,” the clerk responded. “You heading out for a fish, too?”

      “Uhhmm—” Rascal began before Billy grabbed his arm and answered for him.

      “Yeah, Rasc. I was just tellin’ the gentleman here how we were stocking up for a good long fish out at Mr. Pickett’s Pond.” Billy shot Rascal a long obvious wink. Rascal was always good at picking up secret messages, but the important messages still needed a wink just in case. “I got the worms right here. Let’s go!” Without hesitation, the boys ran down the front steps.

      “Them boys are up to no good,” the clerk said, shaking his head. Then, he hollered after them, “Ain’tcha gonna need a pole?!”

      The Plan

      “Okay, so what was that?!” Rascal asked out of breath at the edge of the pond. “You some kind of outlaw fisherman now? What’s the emergency?”

      “Rascal. We’re going to Harrisonburg!”

      “We’re what?!” Rascal said.

      “We’re hopping a train and getting out of here. Remember, today is the first—”

      “Yeah, yeah, the first day of the rest of our lives. I know, I know,” Rascal finished.

      “Right!” Billy said, pleased that Rascal had been listening. “So, whattya say we go to HARRISONBURG!”

      “What’s in Harrisonburg?”

      “My Aunt Sunny,” Billy said. “She has a piece of my story that just isn’t here. I can’t get anywhere else. Last I heard, she was in Harrisonburg”

      “But what’s the Shenandoah Valley got to do with me?” Rascal asked, still trying to keep up to Billy’s big idea.

      “Now, Rascal.” Billy began. “I know you don’t like it much at the orphana—err … the dormitory,” Billy corrected himself, “but they do feed ya’ right, so I understand you not wanting to get up and leave. But, see, well …” Billy struggled for words, “I need my best friend with me … to fight the dragons.”

      “Yeah, I’m a real dragon warrior,” Rascal interrupted with a scoff and a chuckle.

      “—but if you don’t want to give up your hot meals for me, I understand” Billy finished.

      “Listen, Billy. I ain’t got no family here. I ain’t got nothin’ at all but a beating every few days on the ball field and some slop called dinner at the dormitory. Sounds like you’re asking me to miss a meal or two, but by God, I’d miss more than that if you take off without me. I’m going.”

      “Really?”

      Something about the surprise in Billy’s voice shot a bolt of nervousness straight through Rascal’s unusually confident heart, so he responded, “You know what you’re doin’, right?”

      “Course I do,” Billy said with a false confidence that set them both at ease.

      “Course you do,” Rascal echoed. “Then, I’m goin’.

      The boys sat down at the edge of the pond and looked out at the ducks zigzagging across the surface of the waters.

      “Now, tell me.” Rascal said. “What’re we doin’ with all these worms?”

      Heading Out

      After a few hours of throwing worms into the pond, Billy got back to business. “Today is Tuesday. We’ll leave Saturday. You got supplies?”

      “Supplies? I have a blanket,” Rascal answered.

      “Great. Bring it. But we’re gonna need more than that,” Billy said, as he scratched a list into the dirt in front of them.

      Canteen

      “We can use Uncle John’s. That’s just about the only thing from the war that he doesn’t curse, that canteen.”

      Food

      “Uncle John says an army marches on its stomach. I’ll get rice, potatoes, onions and a jar of molasses. You get hardtack for making corncakes and some salt meat. The rest—like berries and fish—we’ll find on the way.”

      Blanket

      “Now, you say you got one of those, eh Rascal? Wye, I got one, too. If we can keep those dry, they’ll be good for the summer.”

      Pocket knife

      Rope

      “I’d say about 20 feet of rope should do it.”

      Train tickets

      “I suppose we’ll get those


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