Dirty Faces - Book 2

Chapter 31: To the Ends of the Earth

Chapter 31: To the Ends of the Earth

The shape of what was left of the road quickly deteriorated, rendering it no different from the rest of the undergrowth beneath the trees. Ginny guessed no one had used this road since the Montgomery home place burned, because really, no one had any reason to be out here. The sun was rising higher in the sky, but the thick canopy of trees shaded them from much of the heat. Even the elevation could do little about the humidity, though, and it wasn't long before her hair clung to her neck and her clothes stuck to the rest of her.

Rowdy was doing practically all the talking, but she couldn't really say what he was talking about. Her head and stomach were still all over the place and she didn't have anywhere to digest her friend's words. Still, she was grateful for his chatter because she probably couldn't have stood the heaviness of silence along with the weight of the air and the situation. If not for Rowdy, she might have smothered.

It felt like they had been walking for much longer than they probably had when Ginny heard the gurgle of moving water up ahead. A few minutes later, the source of the sound revealed itself in the form of a spring. Rather than cross it, Tommy followed the path of the spring and Ginny and Rowdy followed Tommy. A couple hundred yards later, it led them to a clearing, or more accurately, what had been a clearing at one time. It was still a clearing in that there were only a few trees on the property, but it had otherwise gone the way of the road, overtaken by bushes and shrubs, with knee-high weeds replacing what had once been grass.

Even though only Rowdy had been talking, a hush fell over them all, the kind of hush that occurs when the breath catches in one's throat and he is forced to stop and take notice. Tommy had said little all day, but he was suddenly a different kind of quiet. On the far side of the clearing stood a lonely, stone chimney, the only remnant of the shack in which he'd been born and spent his early years. He started walking again, approaching the chimney, but his pace was slow and his gait awkward, as if he was in a daze. Ginny and Rowdy exchanged a knowing look, then followed him at a distance.

When Tommy arrived at the place where the shack once stood, he ran his fingers along the stones that made up the chimney. His dark eyes lingered on his fingers and the stones for a long while before he moved his gaze to survey the rest of the clearing. He homed in on something that Ginny couldn't see, dropped his hand from the chimney, and began walking with intention to his next destination. Ginny and Rowdy followed him, still at a distance.

Its top was barely visible above the weeds, the dry-rotted little wood cross hammered in the ground beneath the biggest walnut tree on the property. Tommy's pace slowed as he neared the spot where his mother lay, and curiously, he stopped a little ways from it and proceeded no further. Maybe, Ginny thought, it was holy ground to him.

She felt like they should ask him if he was OK, but she knew it would only be wasted breath. He would say he was fine, when they knew good and well he wasn't. Rowdy must have thought the same thing because he was quiet for a while before he finally swallowed and said, his voice raised so Tommy could hear, "We should dump out our water and fill up with that cold spring water, Ginny."

"Watch out for snakes," Tommy said dully, keeping his back to them.

Ginny and Rowdy returned to the spring and did as he'd suggested, then splashed their faces and wet their hair with the cool, clear water. When they were finished, they glanced in Tommy's direction; he was still standing there, just standing. Rowdy let out a deep sigh, then said, "I didn't even think about it." Neither had Ginny. But now they were here, Tommy was here, and all they could do was give him space and time. Time was not something they had a great deal of, but it was the least they could do. Ginny found a good rock for throwing, then sat down beside the spring, keeping her eyes peeled while she waited. Getting snake bit was not on the agenda.

When Tommy finally joined them by the spring, his eyes and nose were still red, and he didn't really look at either of them. Ginny figured he was probably embarrassed and she wanted to tell him he shouldn't be, but she didn't. It was just easier to say nothing at all. Rowdy handed him a canteen and he took a long drink, then rubbed his nose with the back of his arm, sniffed, and said, "Alright, this way."

                                                                              *****

It was funny how dry ground could be just as slippery as mud. There had been no rain for nearly a week, and the loose dirt, leaves, and twigs had a way of making the uneven ground near-treacherous. They each slid down on several occasions. Ginny rolled her ankle and skinned her palms and knees, but she had always kept up with the boys and she wasn't going to let anything change that now, of all times. Once, Rowdy lost his footing and went tumbling down a steep bank; the only thing that stopped him was the tree trunk he finally rolled into. And probably the only thing that kept him from breaking his back when he came to that abrupt stop was the knapsack of supplies, which had miraculously stayed in place.

No longer was the shade doing them any favors. The hottest part of the day had arrived. Aside from the occasional sweat bee that stung Ginny's neck, the animals all seemed to have found some place cool to bed down. They clearly had more sense than the battered, wilting threesome. Rowdy hadn't talked as much since they left the Montgomery home place, and that tumble he took knocked the wind out of him. Ginny knew he was running out of steam when he quit talking altogether.

Finally, Tommy stopped walking, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and beckoned with his fingers in Rowdy's general direction. Rowdy understood and removed the pack from his back, withdrew a canteen, and gave it to him. He turned the canteen bottoms-up and drank greedily, then said, "We should eat."

"Are we not even close?" Rowdy asked, taking the canteen back and getting a swig himself.

"We are," said Tommy. "Almost there, actually. But we need to eat or we're not gonna make it much further." Ginny didn't want to waste any more time, but she was getting swimmy-headed and she knew Tommy was right.

The exposed roots of a nearby oak tree formed what looked like a natural staircase, and they each sat down on different levels. Rowdy pilfered through the bag and handed Ginny Ralph's thermos, then continued digging. Ginny took a drink of the cold water they'd gotten from the spring and eyed the canteen from which Tommy was drinking. "Where'd y'all get those canteens?" she asked. "They look like they're from the army or something."

"They are," Tommy replied.

"So's the knapsack," Rowdy added. "Those boarders leave behind neat stuff sometimes." He gave Ginny a shiny Granny Smith apple, then dug out another for Tommy.

Tommy immediately bit into his apple and asked, his mouth full, "We got anything else to eat in there?"

"Ginny brought some biscuits."

"Yeah? Give me one!"

Rowdy snorted. "Nah. We'll uh...we'll save them for hard times."

"You hush!" Ginny snapped.

Tommy looked terribly disappointed. Rowdy chuckled. "We got plenty apples, though."

It turned out the little meal was exactly what they needed. They'd gotten their second wind, and they all talked and joked like it was any other day. For a brief, glorious time, Ginny got lost in the moment and was actually able to forget about what was going on back home in the holler.

Maybe they really had been almost there, as Tommy had said, or maybe time passed quicker because their mood had lifted, but it seemed only a brief few minutes before he shushed them. "There," he whispered.

Ginny followed Tommy's gaze and saw that, sure enough, they were there. Through the dense bushes and trees, she could make out the shack. It was still there, so maybe she was still there. Ginny's pulse quickened and she wanted to run as fast as she could to the door and bang on it, knock it down, even. She almost did, but Tommy grabbed her arm and held her in place. "Careful," he said. "It might not be her living there anymore, and even if it is..." He swallowed, then hesitated. "Just gotta be careful."

"Right," said Ginny, nodding her understanding, but she couldn't keep her eyes off the shack. Beside her, Rowdy grinned, his eyes glued to the structure up ahead, too. They had made it. And to think she had ever thought seventeen miles was so far. She would have gone to the ends of the earth if it meant saving Mama.