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October 2007 Stories from the small town of Whisper Gap where one life, one tale invariably reaches out to touch the next. by Jo Janoski.
Among Friends
And go he did. Even as a four-year-old, his whining and screaming assured that poor mom would transport him wherever he wished, be it another room or another store or if he wanted, another planet. Sue granted his every desire. Is it any wonder the child was set in life to always have his way?When he grew into an unruly ten-year-old, endowed with intelligence and self-propulsion to travel far and wide, kicking up inclement dust along the way, his mother Sue found it was too late to rein him in. Complaints from teachers and neighbors fell on her deaf ears. She gave up. Richie was a free spirit. What could she do? He was who he was, end of story. "Auntie Brenda" was disturbed the most. She ran her household with rigid rules, and the boy blew the program to smithereens. Besides the infernal racket the kid made and vague insinuations of thievery, he was hurtful and mean to her daughter. The girl, an unexpected leftover from an attractive overnight boarder ten years ago, had been her dearest heartbeat. Her older children were grown and gone off to college; but this girl, her precious Becky, filled her days with light and wonder. If only Jim had lived long enough for them to have another baby. And that beast of a boy tormented her little one constantly. "Wanna go for a walk, shit face?" Richie glared at Becky, hands on his hips, superior. "Don't call me that!" "Okay, wanna go for a walk, moron?" "Why should I?" "Because I found something you're gonna wanna see!" "How do you know what I want to see?" Becky turned away, tossing her hair. "I found a cave." She looked up. "A cave? Where? There's no caves in Whisper Gap." "Is, too. Over beyond the cuts. You gotta come with me if you're ever gonna get to see it." "Okay," the girl said with weary resignation. Another one of Richie's stupid tricks, perhaps. But a cave, that was worth the gamble. They walked in silence while Richie picked up a stone now and then to throw, with each try attempting to make it go farther. One of the rocks, traveling at high velocity, smashed into a tree before it could sail across the field. "Damn!" "Don't talk like that. I don't like you using those words." "So? Who cares what you think?" "You'd think you'd show a little more gratitude, after I covered for you the other night when you broke your mom's crystal goblet." "Ah, you did it because you like me." "I do not." "Then why'd you come along today, shit face?" "Because I care more about seeing a cave than I hate you." She stuck her nose in the air. He ignored her. Teasing Becky was one of his favorite things in the world. It was fun to get her riled. Stopping short, he pointed with one grubby finger. They'd reached Raccoon Creek. It bubbled and flowed, sparkling and clear, but their dirt path continued on the other bank. "We have to swing across the creek," Richie announced. That being said, the boy took off and scurried up the nearest tree, grabbed a vine, and testing its strength with a tug, proceeded to soar across the water like Tarzan, whooping and hollering as he flew, legs flailing, hair blowing in the wind. He arrived, gasping with excitement on the other side to stand there, laughing at the bewildered girl he'd left behind. "Come on over, shit face!" "I don't know how to do that." "You'd better learn fast if you want to see the cave!" No way Becky was climbing a tree and riding on a vine. The poor girl scratched her head in confusion and surveyed the surroundings. The creek appeared only knee-deep, and she was wearing shorts. She could walk across and not even get her clothes wet. Shooting him an uneasy glance, Becky took the plunge, starting off in small steps into the water. As expected, it wasn't deep. The monkey on the other shore roared with laughter, clutching his stomach, falling to the ground in a giggling fit. Becky shot him a furtive look. As she spied his crazy antics, her foot slipped, sending her flying. She pounded into the water and slid to a soft landing. The girl felt mud oozing under her behind on the creek floor. By this time, Richie was out of control. His laughter reduced to hoarse squawks, he sounded like a sick chicken. Becky looked at him in dismay and proceeded to pull herself out of the muddy creek. The slippery muck on the bottom was an ice rink. Her foot slipped again and sent her flying face down in the water. When she tried to get up, her legs slid every which-way. With every attempt she flailed and fell. Would she be stuck in the Raccoon Creek forever?Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. "You want some help?" Richie yelled over. "It'll cost ya." to be continued... Copyright 2007 JO Janoski Jo Janoski is a poet, author, and photographer from Pittsburgh, PA. who also writes a blog at Musecrafters. |
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The boy. He was a calamity waiting to happen. Even
as a infant his restless spirit broke loose in efforts to mobilize
the crib as he jumped up and down, rattling it across the nursery
room floor fueled by sheer baby power. The others complained
of the noise, but his mother ignored them. She had no intention
of dampening his sizeable spirit. Her baby was born to go places.
