The boys looked at each other and nodded their satisfaction.
“Where’d you hide the sleds?” Jack asked.
“They ain’t sleds,” Billy Joe corrected him, “they’re RC Cola signs. Just pieces of tin.”
“Now you know I know that,” Jack reminded him. “Don’t be so touchy.”
“I ain’t touchy. I just don’t like to pretend they are fancy sleds like they have in the snow.”
“Okay, where’s the tin then?” Jack stood corrected.
“I stashed them just off the trail at the top,” Billy Joe said. “You check out the slide hill to make sure it has good pine needles from top to bottom. If we run onto a bare spot with no needles on it, the ‘sled’ will stop and we’ll go the rest of the way down without it. That won’t be fun.”
“Naw, you are right,” Jack agreed and started up the hill looking at and feeling of every part of the slide area.
Billy Joe climbed to the top, using the trees on each side to hold on to. At the top, he went off into the brush about ten feet, raked back some pine needles with his hand and pulled out four tin RC Cola and Nehi signs and moved them to the top of the slide hill. Each tin sign was curved up at the front to give less slide resistance and to somewhat resemble a real sled. The boys had made holes on either side at the front of the sleds and attached guide ropes. The theory was, when the sled was going down the hill with a boy on it, he could pull on the rope on one side and the sled would turn slightly the opposite way. That theory was untested but it should work.
Billy Joe tested the ropes to make sure they were tied tightly and wouldn’t come off. The ropes also gave the boys some stability, something to hold onto, as they slid down the hill.
“Are we ready to roll?” Jack asked as he climbed up the hill.
“Yeah, far as I can tell,” Billy Joe assured him.
“Who’s gonna be first?” Jack asked.
Billy Joe picked up two pine needles and broke each off to different lengths and held them in his closed fist and said, “Okay, pull a straw and the other one will be mine. The shortest straw will be first.”
That seemed fair to Jack so he pulled at straw and held it out to Billy Joe, who held his out too.
“You got the shortest, I reckon,” Billy Joe conceded. “You go first.”
Jack looked over the four sleds and picked one, which he set in place at the top of the hill.
“Now don’t forget, you gotta guide it around those four trees that are in the middle of the slide area. If you don’t, you and the sled will take different paths to the bottom and you may get a knot on your head from the tree.” Billy Joe laughed.
“Yeah, I think I figured out how to miss that first tree.” Jack grinned.
“How’s that?” Billy Joe asked.
“I’ll aim for it. There’s no way I can hit it if I try.” Jack laughed.
“Uh-huh,” Billy Joe replied skeptically. “Well, let’s get on with it and we will see.”
Jack placed his sled at the top of the hill, sighted down it to see if it was pointed the way he wanted it to be, walked around it and aimed it again.
As he was about to do that again, Billy Joe said with impatience, “Jack, get on with it. I want a turn before it gets dark.”
Jack nodded, sat on the sled, held the ropes tightly and pushed off with his heels.
At first, the sled hesitated then, zip, it was gone. The speed of the descent surprised Jack and he was unable to steer as he had planned. He missed all the trees but not from the skill of his driving. It was pure luck. As the bottom flatter place came up, the sled slowed and turned sideways and Jack’s right shoulder came up against the boards. It was a soft bump so the first test seemed to be a success.
“Come on down, Billy Joe,” Jack shouted.
Billy Joe placed his sled the way he wanted it, sat on it, looked the slope over one more time and, as Jack had done, pushed off with his heels. He missed the first tree but dead centered the second, which stopped him. The bend in his knees had given him just enough springiness to offset the bump into the tree.
He moved the sled a little to his left and continued on to the bottom.
“I’ll do better next time,” he assured Jack. “You’ll see.”
“Hey, good sled run, with boards to stop you and everything,” a voice said from the top of the hill.
Jack and Billy Joe looked to see Larry Crawford and Charlie Conn looking down the sled run at them. Larry had been the one, as usual, to yell at them.
Larry put his sled down, sat on it and pushed off. He hit the first tree, pushed off again, missed the second tree but hit the third one hard.
When he got to the bottom, he came to rest up against the boards and said, “Boy, that second tree hurt,” rubbing the side of his head.
Charlie Conn missed all the trees but came up against the boards really hard.
“Uh,” was all he said, but Jack saw tears well up in his eyes. He pretended not to notice.
“That’s a good sled run,” Larry complimented, “but y’all oughta dig out them trees.”
“Those trees are pines,” Jack pointed out. “They are what makes the pine needles and besides, we need some obstacles in the run.”
“I reckon so,” Larry conceded. “I’m just gonna have to learn how to guide around them. Let’s go do it again.”
Jack and Billy Joe didn’t say anything but Charlie picked up his sled and started back for the top. He always did everything Larry told him to.
Jack and Billy Joe followed along behind the other two, not wanting to disagree with Larry and start out with bad feelings.
“I’ll go first,” Larry declared when they reached the top.
He put his sled down and immediately pushed off. This time, he steered to the right around the first tree, which made him miss the second. However, that path headed him directly for the third tree. He pulled on the right side of the rope to try to miss the tree to the left. Instead, the sled turned sideways, dug into the pine needles and Larry went off to the right rolling uncontrollably. He had moved further and further to the right and was in danger of missing the boards altogether. He was moving down the hill very fast now and picking up bruises as he went. He reached for the end boards, touching them but not getting a grip on them. He went off the edge of the cliff.
The three boys went down the slope as fast as they could, holding on to the trees on the side.
Billy Joe picked up the rope he had brought with him before he went down.
Before they got to the bottom, they heard Larry yelling, “Help me. Get me outta here. I can’t hold on much longer.”
Jack looked down from the edge of the cliff and saw Larry hanging on to tree roots that were sticking out of the cliff face.
“Hush, Larry. Yellin’ ain’t helpin’ none and it makes us all nervous,” Jack directed.
“Well, get me outta here in a hurry and I won’t yell no more.”
Billy Joe looked over the edge and said to Larry, “I’m gonna throw this rope over to you. Now you don’t get panicky and yank the rope out of our hands. Keep holdin’ onta them roots and lightly hold the rope until I tell you different. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, I understand, I ain’t no dummy.”
Jack wanted to yell back, “What are you doin’ down there holdin’ onta them roots for then?” but he didn’t.
Billy Joe tossed one end of the rope to Larry but held onto the other tightly. Just as he expected, Larry immediately yanked the rope. Luckily, he didn’t turn loose of the roots with his other hand.
“Now Larry,” Billy Joe yelled down, “there’s a big knot in that rope about five or six feet from the end. You hold on to that knot and when we tell you, we’ll start pullin’ you up. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“Jack, you and Charlie hold on to this rope with me and we’ll pull him up slowly but steadily. I’ll tell Larry what to do and when. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah,” they both said.
“Okay, hold on to that rope and here we go,” Jack said. “All right, Larry, hold on to that rope at the knot and put both hands on the rope NOW.”
Larry grabbed the rope at the knot with both hands and it tightened up in their hands suddenly. Jack and Billy Joe held on tightly but Charlie let it slip a few inches before he grabbed it tightly.
“Okay, Larry, hold on and we are gonna pull you up. Let us know when you get to the edge and you can climb over that yourself. We don’t want to mash your fingers and cause you to fall off.”
“Okay,” Larry replied weakly.
“Here we go, boys,” Billy Joe told Jack and Charlie, and they started pulling the rope slowly as they had been told. After about two minutes, Larry said, “Okay, I’m to the edge, stop.”
Billy Joe said, “Hold it steady now while he climbs over the edge.”
The top of Larry’s head popped up over the edge as he climbed the rope, followed by his shoulders and his chest, at which time Billy Joe reached down and grabbed Larry’s belt in the back and pulled him over the edge to firm ground again.
Larry just lay there breathing hard and making strange mewing sounds.
“You all right, Larry?” Jack asked.
Larry didn’t immediately answer so Jack moved over to where he was lying face down and started to turn him over.
“Wait a minute,” Larry said. “Just let me rest a minute.”
After two or three minutes, Larry rolled over, sat up and smiled. “I think the left side of the slope is best. From now on, I’ll go down that side.”
The other three boys were silent for a moment and then Jack giggled and they all four rolled with laughter.
Jack and Billy Joe decided that they had better bring two more boards and extend the right side of the slope by eight more feet.
All four boys went back to the top and made more runs down the slope but kept to the left side.
Back at home, Jack’s father asked how the day on Bynum’s Bluff had worked out.
“It was really good, Daddy. I did what you said. After we finished nailin’ on the boards, I backed off and looked at it to determine if it was safe.”
“And was it?” his father asked.
“Yes, sir, but me and Billy Joe decided to stay off the right side until we can take two more boards out there to extend it eight more feet to the right.”
“Now, that’s the right way.” His father smiled. “Always have safety first.”
Chapter Twelve
The Rescue
The summer was just about gone. The boys had time for about one more adventure. Sledding on Bynum’s Bluff was good but you can only do that so many times before it gets old.
The boys wanted to go back to Leaf River one more time but their mommas were afraid of that river. If they could go just once more, that would be it for the summer. This busload of boys and girls was their only way to go.
Billy Joe didn’t like buses and here he was riding in one of his own choice.
“How come we didn’t ride our bicycles out here?” he asked rhetorically. “Then we could leave any time we wanted to.”
Jack knew that he knew why but he patiently explained it again, “Right now, your momma and mine get a cold chill every time we mention going to the river. That boy drowning a month ago will take a long time to be forgotten by either of them.”
“If they ever do,” Billy Joe added.
“It’s August and every day it goes over a hundred degrees,” Jack pointed out. “You will enjoy a swim in this cool river.”
“Huh, if I’d had my choice, I’d be swimmin’ in Snows Creek. That thing is spring fed and icy cold all year.”
“You know Snows Creek is a lot further out. It would take us a half day to get out there and that’s ridin’ our bikes in the midday heat. I don’t want to ride four hours out there and four hours back just for an hour of swimming.” Jack spoke the obvious.
“Huh,” Billy Joe said again and let the subject go.
“The Leaf River is pretty cool too,” Jack pointed out.
“Not as cool as Snows Creek,” Billy Joe said and continued, “It’s fed by seven springs and each one of those is icy cold. Uncle Ike and Aunt Lorillard’s boys get to swim in it every day if they want to.”
“You can only swim in that creek in July and August when it’s really hot. You’d turn blue any other time of the year,” Jack stated.
The bus pulled off the road near the big iron bridge that crossed the river. The driver easily found a parking place. The little parking area already had three other cars in it. You could hear the kids laughing and yelling at each other while they waded and swam in the water.
All the kids in the bus hurried to get their towels, lunch bags and whatever other things they had brought from the overhead rack.
Outside the bus, Jack and Billy Joe walked to the edge of the trees along the bank. Each selected a tree, took off all his clothes except his bathing suit and hung them on a limb. They knew their clothes wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.
“We oughta be up the river about a mile, fishin’,” Billy Joe continued to complain.
Jack didn’t answer. He knew it would do no good.
The boys walked over the white sandbar to the river’s edge and waded into the water.
“Ah,” Billy Joe said. “That does feel good. Let’s start by jumpin’ off the bridge into the middle of the river.”
“I ain’t jumpin’ into that river until I know for sure that the river ain’t washed a big tree into the middle of this swimming’ hole.”
“It couldn’t a done that,” Billy Joe said. “People swim here every day and somebody would have noticed it.”
“It coulda washed it in here last night and you know it,” Jack said definitely.
“All right, then, let’s go swim there and check it out,” Billy Joe said as he ran toward the edge of the river.
Jack ran right behind him.
The boys swam all around the middle and down to the bottom several times to make sure there were no obstructions there.
“You satisfied?” Billy Joe asked with almost a sneer.
“I reckon so,” Jack admitted. “Let’s go up on the bridge.”
The boys swam back to the sandbar, walked out of the river and up the path to the bridge.
At the center of the bridge, they stopped and looked down.
“Hmmm,” Jack said. “It looks further down from up here than it did from down there.”
“You gettin’ chicken on me, Jack?” Billy Joe smiled.
“Nah, I just made a comment.”