The Mystery of the Canebrake Read online

  “We’re real sorry, Mr. Bill. It was just one of them things that got way out of hand,” I said.

  “I know, Richard. But you know just talking about the circus makes me want to return. I made a big mistake when I ran off. I hope we can figure out a way to get me to Little Rock when the circus gets there.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Bill. I guarantee you we’ll come up with a way to get you there,” John Clayton said.

  I’d just about had enough of confessing about circus stuff so I poked John Clayton and said, “Hey, we need to get on down the creek, if we’re gonna find any new fishing holes.”

  “Okay, boys. It’s been nice talking to you.”

  “We’ll see you tomorrow with some groceries,” said John Clayton as we got up to leave.

  We walked off and headed deeper into the woods still following Flat Creek. An hour later and way down the creek, we were about ready to quit.

  “Dang, my feet and arms are scratched up, and this old creek looks the same since we left the first fishing hole. I’m ’bout ready to give up looking for new fishing holes, and we sure haven’t seen nothing that you could ever swim in.”

  “You’re dang right, Richard.”

  “Okay, why don’t we go to that little ridge right ahead of us? It looks different than this Pin Oak flat we’re walking through.” As we approached the little ridge the creek, which was headed straight toward the ridge, was forced to make a sharp turn as it approached the higher ground. At the point where Flat Creek made this sharp turn, it had cut away the bank, forming a big wide u-area. Then the creek narrowed again and continued eastward. The big turn in the creek was the only place along the creek that could be a swimming hole. We couldn’t believe our good fortune. It looked perfect.

  We stood on the bank and sized it up.

  “My gosh, John Clayton, look at this. All we have to do is clean out the brushes and weeds along the bank and pull those three snags out. Then it’ll be the perfect swimming hole. Let’s don’t tell a soul. When we finish, this’ll be our private swimming hole.”

  “Okay, Richard, but it’s gonna be hard to keep this a secret.”

  We started working to clear the bend in the creek of limbs and snags to make the swimming hole usable. It took a lot longer to clean it up than we thought, but after a couple of days, we finished with the last bit of cleaning. A big tree on the bank had branches that extended out over the swimming hole. We got a rope from the farm and, after a struggle, we managed to climb the tree and tie the rope to a limb that stuck out over swimming hole. We tied a few knots in the bottom of the rope, and the swimming hole was ready. After we finished, we jumped into the best swimming hole in south Arkansas. The creek water was cool and clear. It was perfect.

  The next day on the breadbox, we bragged about it to the point where everybody wanted to go swimming there, but since we’d done all the work, we kept it a secret. Ears, Donnie, and Tiny asked us a hundred times where the swimming hole was. It was especially fun to keep our good friends guessing, and of course we bragged to sorry Homer Ray, who was about to bust a gut trying to figure out where we were swimming.

  We really laughed when we strolled into town after a cool swim in the creek. That worthless Homer Ray was really going crazy, and we thought that was great.

  “Y’all think you’re really smart. Well, we’re gonna find your swimming hole, and when we do, just wait!” said Homer Ray.

  “Ha, ha, Homer Ray, you don’t have a clue!” said John Clayton.

  Thinking back on it, I guess since I lived near Flat Creek, and everybody knew we weren’t swimming in no oil pit, Ears, Donnie, Tiny, and even Homer Ray would sooner or later find out where we were swimming. Well, they did find it just a few days later on a hot Saturday afternoon.

  We left my house, walked down the highway to the bridge, and started down the trail we’d made, heading straight to our secret swimming hole. Since we’d been walking on this trail for several weeks, we had trampled down the weeds, and it was easy to follow. As we walked along, I heard someone behind us, but I didn’t think nothin’ about it. We ran the last 50 yards, stripping off our cutoff shorts, and by the time we reached the swimming hole, we were completely naked. We threw our shorts on a log and dove in. We were swimming around toward the back of the swimming hole when I saw someone run up, grab our shorts, and run off in the woods.

  “John Clayton, that looked like Homer Ray! He ran off with our shorts! Hey, come back here with our clothes!” I yelled, but he kept running, and by the time we got outta the swimming hole, he was gone.

  “Dang, Richard, what are we gonna do now?”

  “I bet this is just some stupid joke, and he’ll be right back with our shorts,” I said. “Let’s swim some more and just wait. He’ll be back in a few minutes.” Well, we swam and swam and then we waited and waited. It was getting late, and I knew we had to be heading home.

  “John Clayton, we can’t just stay here. We’ve got to make it back to my house.”

  “What are we gonna to when we get to the road?”

  “Well, I guess we could tie some leaves around us. That’s what Adam and Eve did.”

  “Okay, you put on your leaves, and let’s see how much they cover up.”

  After a few tries, we decided that Adam and Eve must have had some very special leaves in the Garden of Eden. Them South Arkansas leaves wouldn’t stay on, and if they did, they didn’t cover up much, and they made us look like idiots. After a final try with a grapevine belt and some big oak leaves, I threw them off and gave up on the leaves.

  “Heck, there’s nothing to do but walk to the highway, and then run when cars aren’t coming,” I said.

  “Okay, Richard, but that’s the El Dorado highway, and a lot of cars come up and down that road,” said John Clayton.

  We started through the woods, and until we reached the highway, everything was okay.

  We slipped up to the edge of the highway.

  “John Clayton, come over here and hide in these bushes.”

  I looked at John Clayton who was now crouched in the bushes waiting to run down the road. Where his shorts covered him he was snow white and the rest of him was dark brown. He looked so funny I started to laugh and shook my head. “What on earth could be funny ’bout this?” asked John Clayton.

  “Just look at you,” I said still laughing.

  John Clayton looked over at me and began pointing and laughing because I looked the same way. Well, after we laughed for a few minutes, John Clayton said, “Yeah, we sure do look funny, and if somebody sees us running down the road naked, they’re sure gonna have a good laugh.”

  “Okay, just be sure no one is coming before we run,” I said. Several cars passed as we crouched in the bushes along the side of the road, waiting for the coast to clear.

  “John Clayton, look both ways. Wait, here comes a car! It’s gone! Now, let’s go, run!”

  We ran up the road as fast as we possibly could, but before we could get 50 yards, a car topped the hill.

  “Get in the woods!” John Clayton screamed.

  Two more runs and we still hadn’t gone halfway. In fact, the runs into the woods were taking a toll on us. It seemed that every time a car approached, and we had to run out in the woods, we were right opposite a big blackberry patch. After picking out thorns from the last run, we decided no more runs into the woods, we were just going to stay on the road until we reached my house.

  “I don’t care if it’s the preacher, I’m not running off the road into another danged blackberry patch,” said John Clayton.

  “Car coming! Car coming!” I yelled.

  “I don’t care,” said John Clayton. “I’m not getting off this road for nobody.”

  “Oh, my god,” I yelled, “it’s Rosalie and her daddy.”

  Shoot, a second later we were both running for the woods at full speed.

  “Look out, more blackberry bushes,” I yelled.

  Thank goodness they just drove on, but as they passed, Rosalie’s d
addy honked just to let us know we’d been seen. Finally, after four more runs up the highway and back into the woods, we made it to the field behind my house. We slipped up to the barn, and I told John Clayton to follow me.

  “Okay, now we can just run from the barn straight to the back door. In my room I have two extra pair of shorts we can put on,” I said as we pushed the barn door open and looked to be sure there wasn’t anyone in sight.

  “Come on, run for it,” I whispered.

  We dashed for the back door and we were just ’bout there when I looked up and saw the door opening. Momma opened the door holding our shorts in her hands.

  “Ahaaaaaa,” screamed John Clayton. Shoot, I thought he was gonna die from embarrassment.

  “Richard, why were your shorts on the back steps, and why are you and John Clayton running naked through the back yard?”

  Standing there naked with your best friend trying to explain to your momma that someone had taken your shorts was difficult to do.

  “Oh, Momma, Rosalie saw me runnin’ naked down the road!”

  “What? What?”

  Why on earth did I say that?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Battle

  The next day we met our bunch of friends at the breadbox and ’course all of the talk was about the new swimming hole that they all knew about.

  “Dang you, Ears, it was you that got our clothes, wasn’t it?”

  “Richard, I didn’t, I promise. Shoot, the onlyest way I found out about it was from Tiny.”

  Well, before I could jump on Tiny for getting my clothes, that sorry Homer Ray walked up.

  “Hey, you skinny, little rats, how did y’all like running up the road naked?”

  ’Course, that worthless Homer Ray laughed and laughed, and he even admitted getting our clothes.

  “That’s just a taste of what you gonna get from me this summer,” he said.

  “Well, take a swing, you worthless monkey,” I said and I stuck my chin out and dared him. Shoot, I ain’t the bravest kid in the world, but I durn sure knew he wasn’t about to slug me. Heck, after that pelting, I gave him with my slingshot, he promised never to hit me again if I would stop shooting him.

  “Naw, I ain’t gonna hit you, Richard. I got something else in mind, and it’ll be a lot of hittin’, but not from me.”

  Homer Ray walked off and I looked at John Clayton.

  “What in the heck did he mean by that?”

  “Danged if I know. Maybe he’s gonna get some of those seventh-graders to get you.”

  “Naw, the moron’s got something else up his sleeve.”

  A couple of days passed and I’d forgotten about stupid Homer Ray’s threat. John Clayton came over around 10 o’clock, and we talked about what to do today. We were just sitting there reading funny books when Ears walked up.

  “Hey, fellows, I was just downtown and Homer Ray and his friends were talking about getting up some boys to play war games just like the soldiers do when they come through here and camp out.”

  “Really?”

  Well, that sounded interesting, and even though Homer Ray was involved me and John Clayton started thinking about joining.”

  “You know maybe we’d like to join, but I sure ain’t gonna be in no army where that sorry Homer Ray is the general,” I said.

  “Heck, Richard, that’s why I’m here; he don’t want none of us in his army. He said we need to get up our own army, and then we could battle their army.”

  “Battle?”

  “Yeah, battle, ’cause he wants to have both armies use slingshots and have one army attack the other,” said Ears.

  “Shoot each other with slingshots? Are you kidding? Heck, our folks would have our hides if they found out, and heck them rocks hurt,” said John Clayton. “We ain’t interested.”

  “Well, okay, I’ll go tell Homer Ray we ain’t gonna get up an army. He won’t be surprised ’cause I told him y’all wouldn’t do something like that. He said he didn’t think so either ’cause y’all is a bunch of chickens.”

  Dang, that sorry Homer Ray calling us a bunch of chickens really burned us up, and I stopped Ears before he could walk away.

  “We ain’t chickens, Ears.”

  “Well, I didn’t say you was. It was Homer Ray.”

  “Heck, John Clayton, we outta get up an army just to show him. Shoot, there ain’t any better slingshot shooters than me and you.”

  So, I guess you might say we got dared into the battle, but heck, I sure didn’t mind going up against Homer Ray with slingshots. We started planning the battle and getting our army together as soon as Ears left to go tell Homer Ray.

  It was amazing how the armies grew. After two days of recruiting both armies had over 80 boys signed up, with half of them in Homer Ray’s Blue Army and the other half in our Green Army.

  Me and John Clayton nominated ourselves as the commanding generals of the Green Army, picked another five boys as our staff, and we were ready. ’Course, sorry Homer Ray made himself the general of the Blue Army, and now both armies were ready to begin war maneuvers.

  The real Army troops that had passed through Norphlet always made it a point to march through town on their way to practice their war games, and me and Homer Ray decided to do that before the battle on Saturday.

  We’d located a perfect place for the big battle. Heck, we was about to have a all out slingshot fight with 80 other boys and the very last thing on earth we wanted was anybody—meaning grownups—finding out about it. Shoot, the onlyest place we knew about that would be real secret, was way down in Flat Creek Swamp. We knew about this huge beaver dam, and we figured that one army could be on top of the dam and then the other army would charge them and the one that captured the dam would win the battle.

  On Thursday and Friday, we marched outta town and headed to the Swamp, where we practiced charging up the beaver dam while the other army played like they were pushing us back. By the time Saturday rolled around, the two armies would hardly speak to each other. Threats were yelled back and forth, and me and that sorry Homer Ray had almost gotten into a fight discussing the rules of the battle. We finally settled on only one rule: No shooting at the head. Other than that, everything else was okay. Dang, if I had a-knowed the trouble we was about to get into, I would have hightailed it out of that Swamp and never looked back. But I didn’t.

  The day of the great battle finally arrived, and all 80 boys lined up at the football field to march through town.

  “Line up! Attention! Forward march!” yelled John Clayton.

  When Sniffer saw us lining up each day, he’d take his place at the front of the column beside me, and as soon as the drum hit the first beat, he’d begin to howl. After three days of marching through town, everyone was expecting us that morning, and as we approached the Red Star Drug store, a large crowd came out to watch us march by.

  When we were even with the crowd, I yelled to the Green Army, “Eyes right!” and then, “Salute!”

  The crowd that had gathered to watch us gave us a big cheer, and as we passed the City Café, Mayor Bowman put down his cup of coffee, ran out of the café, and stopped us, “Just a minute, boys. I need to say something to you.”

  “Halt! Attention!”

  “Boys, y’all are wonderful examples of how we all should be supporting the War effort. Our town is very proud of you. Y’all are patriotic Americans, and I’m sure that all of y’all’s parents are proud of you.”

  This crowd included many of our parents. Everyone clapped.

  “Forward! March!” I yelled. We started marching out of town, because I knew if we stayed much longer, some of our younger kids would quit. The speech by the mayor made everybody feel guilty, and we marched outta downtown without saying a word. We weren’t supporting the War effort, and we all knew it. We were fixing to fight a slingshot battle and every one of our folks would have a hissey fit if they knew what we were up to.

  When we reached the beaver dam, we flipped a coin to see which army w
ould man the top of the dam. That moron Homer Ray won the toss, and he marched the Blue Army to the top of the dam.

  I marched the Green Army back out in front of the dam into an open pin oak flat where we could get ready to attack the dam. My genergathered around me and we were just yakking away when Benny Moorefield, a little 9-year-old kid who was one of the kids we had picked to carry the flag, walked over and started talking to me.

  “Uh, Richard…”

  “Private Benny, that’s General Richard!”

  “Yeah, okay, General Richard, but I need to tell you something.”

  “Private, we are in a very high level talk here, and we’re about to start the battle, save it for later.”

  “But, General Richard, this is real important.”

  “Well, it better be. Okay, Private, tell us what so important.”

  “Uh, well, Richard, uh, I mean General Richard, you know my brother Tommy is in the Blue Army.”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “You really need to hear what General Homer Ray done told the Blue Army.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause it’s ’bout you.”

  “About me?”

  “Uh, huh, and it’s real bad.”

  “Well, Private, tell me what so bad that General Homer Ray has come up with.”

  “He got all the Blue Army together yesterday, and he told ’em for everybody in the whole entire army to shoot at you, and to shoot at your head.”

  “What? Shooting at the head is against the rules! Everybody—40 kids all shooting at my head? Oh my god, we gotta do something!” Man, I just tuned white as a sheet because I could just see all them rocks heading straight for me.

  “Heck, Richard, we just need to quit this danged battle before you get really hurt,” said Ears.

  Well, we sat there for a few minutes and I tried to come up with something that would keep me from getting my head knocked off by a bunch of rock-chucking kids. Finally, General Ears said, “Heck, General Richard, why don’t you just hang back outta range, and we’ll all shoot at General Homer Ray. That’ll teach him.”

  “Shoot, then everybody would call me a chicken for the rest of my whole entire life. Naw, I can’t do that, but I think part of that plan might work. Listen up everybody, this is what we’re gonna do. First off, there’s a bunch of trees in front of the dam that I can duck behind. Now hittin’ a moving target is pretty hard, so I’m gonna be runnin’ sideways, bobbin’ and duckin’ like nothing you’ve ever seen, while everybody in our army shoots at that sorry General Homer Ray, who’ll just be standin’ there on top of the dam not moving, like a big dummy. He won’t have a clue what we’re up to, and before he figures it out, we’ll pelt him like crazy.”