A combination of working at a Young Author's Conference; grading finals and posting those grades and teaching a new semester left me FAR behind in my enjoyable writing. Here's Thursday's entry. If you want to read the story from beginning to end (I know, I know, this isn't exactly flash fiction...) go to the right and click on the link to get all of the episodes...
“Why are we still walking?” Freddie Merrill said.
“Because you look like you’re insane and people don’t pick up insane hitchhikers,” said Tommy Hastings.
“I don’t look insane!” Freddie exclaimed. He spun around and took as swing at Tommy. A car that had been slowing down behind them picked up speed again and roared past.
Tommy stared at Freddie without saying a word.
Freddie hung his head. The hot sun beat down on them as they rounded a bend in the road that ran alongside the
Freddie walked behind Tommy until they came to the spot where the road curved closest to the river. Freddie stopped and looked over steep railing and down the sheer drop off. “Maybe I should just jump.”
Tommy yanked him back. “Don’t be stupid. Now c’mon or we’ll miss the fireworks and we’ll have to sleep in jail.”
“Jail!” Freddie spun around, a look of horror on his face. “If I get thrown in jail, Dad will just leave me there!”
Tommy shook his head and started walking, saying, “You’re not gonna get arrested unless you waste the rest of the afternoon staring over that stupid cliff. Now, come on!”
They walked for hours as the sun started to sink toward the horizon and reached
Freddie and Tommy looked up at the boy – young man – and cringed. Freddie had managed to get behind Tommy. The other boys in the pick up laughed and two of them upended bottles of beer then threw them out on to the shoulder of the road. They shattered on the gravel. Another boy threw two full bottles after the empties. More laughter. Tommy was pretty sure they were drunk and felt Freddie pressing against his back. He had lots more experience with drunks that Tommy had, even though they sometimes rolled winos in
Tommy pointed past the little white chapel and said, “My grandma’s house is over there.”
The young man laughed and vaulted the tailgate. When he landed, he staggered, “That’s the Father’s chapel. Your grandma ain’t gonna live there!” He took another step toward them.
Tommy grabbed Freddie’s T-shirt. But white as a sheet, Freddie ripped free and raced like a bat out of hell into the park. Tommy couldn’t catch up until they reached the bank of the river. When his friend finally stopped, he was barely winded. Tommy was panting as Freddie said, “We don’t need to do that again.” He paused. “Can we walk to
Tommy shook his head. Upstream from them the
“They’ll see us!”
“Nah, they’re gone. There’s a place I heard about where we can hide. Maybe even sleep.”
“The amphitheater. It’s on the river an open air. We’ll hide and stay there tonight then head out in the morning. We should be able to see the fireworks from there.”