|main menu | forum | youngsters categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools|
|The Day I Fell in to the River (youngsters:adventure, 3148 words)|
|Author: Joe E.||Added: Jul 22 2003||Views/Reads: 2758/1080||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Jackie, an eighth grade student, reflects on a walk that he took by the river where he meets a magic coyote, gets off the main trial, and falls in to the river.|
"The Day I Fell In To the River." There's nothing I like better than a cloudy day. Well, almost nothing.... You know, I mean the big white puffy clouds that you get with the bright blue-sky way up above them. And, sometimes birds up above, too, gulls coming ahead of the storm, or a flight of long necked geese. We saw an eagle once when I was up in Mariposa hiking with Curt and Uncle Alex. It disappeared right into a cloud and then came out like miles later on the other side. Some of my best adventures have come on cloudy days. Like, the time I fell in to the river that was a cloudy day. It must have around one thirty or so when dad dropped me off at the freeway exit. It was late March, the last day of Spring break. It had been raining off and on the whole week. All morning, I tried to think of how to get away from the house. Can you believe my old man wouldn't let me go camping with Curt and his dad? "There's gonna be a big storm up there this weekend, Jackie" he told me. "Yea, right. Do you see a drop of rain?" "You went to the movies, yesterday!" He told me when I asked for the five bucks. "So. There's only one movie in the world?" Oh, big deal, he'll drop me down by the river on his way to town. "Now, be waiting here at three thirty, Jackie" he told me. I can wait to get my license.... When I go through the gate at the start of the dirt road, there's s a fresh smell from the damp earth, and the new green growth. Sunshine, blue sky, wind, shadows, and big white clouds are there to greet me. My feet press into the soft damp earth. I can't believe how much the vegetation has grown since I was down here last time before the rains started. To my left there's this big open field with tons of bushy green plants, to my right the freeway. As I start down hill, the trees begin, lot of oaks and some smaller trees and then, the blackberry bushes. There are these other bushes too with tiny pink flowers. It's really tight going under the freeway. First of all there's the shadows, the sound of the traffic over your head. And, then, it gets darker. I have to admit, it's a little scary. There's all this graffiti. Some guys from the city must come in. And, they are really good. There are a couple paintings down here like the ones I saw at the art museum in San Francisco last winter. I've never run into any of the painters. And they always clean up after themselves, too. You know, there's never no paint cans around or nothing. They leave messages for each other, too, like, "Peace! The Joker Rules!" And, "Too Bad You'll Never Reach This Level!" They leave some gang markings, too I can't tell if they're real or they're just fooling around. Figure if I ever see 'em, I'll just nod hello and keep on walking. When I exit the bridge, and go under the railroad tracks, I spot the river. It's not too wide here, but its moving fast. It's a lot higher than last time. Sunlight bounces off the water in millions of tiny sparkles as I pick up my pace. I'm telling myself if I really jam it, I can make it all the way to the state park. I figure it's almost two hours round trip. Last time, we turned back right before a big bend in the river. I know the park entrance is just around that bend. Better not be late, I'm thinking as I remember the old man telling me,” What, you can't even tell time, yet, Jackie?” Funny, how down by the river with the big white clouds, the trees, the water, time seems to be different. Like, when I come up to the section of road that's covered by trees, in the shadows it's like a whole different world. It's like you're out of the twentieth century. Like you're connected to the whole universe. I feel like a Greek hero or something. Around the bend in the road, I'm expecting one of Robin Hood's men, or a Native American. It gets you to thinking what it must have been like back then with no cars, walking wherever you go, more animals than people. The second time I was down here alone, was when I saw the coyote. Click here to read the rest of this story (232 more lines)
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Joe E. has 6 active stories on this site.
Profile for Joe E., incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.