| "Where are you going?" "Out" "Out where?" 'Just out" "Are your chores done?" "Yes ma'am" "If your not back, by the time dad get's home" "He's not my dad?" "I didn't mean it that way. I've always called him dad. I guess I got in the habit of calling him dad, because my kids always called him that" "Cute story" he let the screen door slam as he left the house. He looked around to make sure no one was watching him. He went inside the garage, and grabbed the pack of Chesterfields, that he stole from Hank. He jumped on his bike and pedeled down the street. When he was sure that she couldn't see him anymore, he ditched down the access road, to the new cemetery. He had to walk his bike around the barricade. This being Sunday, none of the workers were around. He liked coming over here. It was quiet. No one bothered him. It gave him time to think. He struck a match, and lit the cigarette. He took a long puff, and blew rings of smoke from his mouth. He learned how to do that from the older kids at school. He got on his bike and began to pedal, enjoying the solitude. He began pedaling in parts of the cemetery that he had never been. Signs were posted to KEEP OUT. He ignored them, as he pushed forward. Something on his right caught his eye, and he turned to look. Nothing but a bird. When he turned back around, he barely missed the big rock right in front of him. He lost control of the bike, as it bounced out of control. The next rock, he couldn't avoid. He hit it head on. He was thrown from the bike. He went one way, and the bike went another. He heard what sounded like a splash. He realized he was the one making the noise. He had landed is some sort of pond. He tried to move, but his feet seemed to be stuck. Then he realized that he was sinking. He panic'ed. Pulling at the water, to try and break free. He only sunk more. Then he remember all those Tarzen movies on TV. Don't move. Keep your arms extended out in front of you. He did that. At first it seemed to work, and he began to laugh out loud. He looked around. The place was empty. Naturally! It was Sunday. It wasn't even opened yet. He began to yell for help. His voice faded off in the distance, but no one responded. "If you had stopped long enough to read the signs, you would have known about these sink holes" he screamed as he heard the voice behind him. "Please mister" "Can't you read boy" he was still sinking slowly. He turned his head towards the voice. The sun was bright, and all he could make out was the shadow of a very tall man. "Take hold of my cane and I'll pull you out" The handle looked like gold. It was as bright as the sun, and he squinted, as he reached out to grab it. He felt his feet on hard ground and he opened his eyes. He thank the man, and leaned over to brush off his pants, when he looked back up he was alone. He ran as fast as his legs would take him. When he finally got home he collasped on the porch, out of breath. He got up to go inside, and he saw his bike leaning next to the tree, in front of him. He didn't think anything of it, and the next day he was back in the cemetery with his bike. Riding along, he came across an outdoor service and he thought he saw the man that had helped him the day before. He leaned his bike next to a tree and slowly made his way towards the crowd. He was right he did see the man, only it was just a picture of him, on top of a casket. |