Walking Lessons

“Hold it,” Deuce put his arm across Brian’s chest as he was about to step into the street at the crosswalk.  A Ford Escort, burnt orange from the combination of rust and a faded paint job, swerved around the corner.

“Pinheads,” came a voice from the rolled down passenger side window followed by a still lit cigarette butt.  The car came so close to the boys that Brian could’ve touched the brim of the New York Yankees baseball hat that the passenger wore.  The car chugged out of the corner as the driver flooded the manifold with too much gas in his attempt to floor it through the turn.  A puff of smoke exited the tail pipe followed by a pop.  The car gurgled then caught speed as the engine found power.

“Whoa, thanks, I was…”

“STONERS.” 

Brian cowered away from Deuce who had dropped his briefcase and had both hand curved around his mouth to project.

“Dude, that was right in my ear.”  

The one working break light illuminated and the car stopped.  As Brian rubbed his left ear, Deuce studied the car.  The car chugged backward for ten yards before stalling to a stop.  The doors opened and a teenager burst out of each side of the car.

“Oh crap…RUN,” yelled Deuce.  He grabbed his briefcase and pulled Brian by his sweatshirt.

The two teenagers who came from the car ran towards the retreating boys, then stopped.  The driver pounded his chest, yelled at the boys, and laughed.

After running with his head down for fifty yards, Deuce stopped to catch his breath.  A few seconds later Brian caught up.  “We’re good,” he said.  “I thought we were dead meat for a second though.”

“You always have to run your…” Brian dropped his hands to his knees gasping for air.  Between breaths he managed, “mouth.”

“Yea, you should’ve seen your face when I said run.”

“Shut it.”

“ What time is it?” 

Brian checked his watch without changing his posture.  “ Three forty, why?”  He took another deep breath and stood up to see Deuce looking into an opening in the woods next to the road.

“I’m thinking we should cut through the Kelly Woods.”

“I don’t know.”  Brian pursed his lips and his eyebrows furrowed.  He looked at the opening to the woods that Deuce was eyeing.

The Kelly Woods marked both the center of town and the lowest part of the city.  It was called the Kelly woods because it was donated to the city by the Kelly Family.  No one in the Kelly family even lived in town.  What had once been a sprawling forest estate with a magestic manor house had been sold off parcel by parcel to form the housing developments that now make up the city.  In their generosity, the Kelly family retained a one square mile section of land to be used as a natural reserve.  In reality, it was just a flood plane that they couldn’t unload, but it kept their name nonetheless.  Eminent domain had allowed train tracks to split the woods, adding a few more dollars to the Kelly foundation.  The city paved a sidewalk that ran the perimeter of the forest.  Most people kept out of the woods, but teenagers poked in and out like ants from a trash pile.  

“We probably shouldn’t go on the street with those guy in that tank.  We can cut across and get home in time to see Gilligan’s Island.”

“I don’t know.  Is it really? Those guys are gone.”

“Definitely,” said Deuce turning around.  After a few steps, Deuce disappeared into the opening in the bush line.  Then his head reappeared with a full smile.  “ Come on,” he said then grabbed his own head with his hand from in the bush acting like someone was pulling him back into the forest.  “ Aaaaa, they got me.”

Brian hesitated and looked down the street.  “Fine,” he muttered and followed Deuce through the opening.

Deuce kept his briefcase in front of him to avoid entangling it in the reaching vines that’s rounded the opening.  Brian wasn’t as lucky.

“Little help,” said Brian whose backpack was ensnared by the vines. Brian twisted his body and tried to plow through, but the web of vines wouldn’t relent.  Deuce grabbed an outstretched hand and pulled until Brian gained momentum through the vines.

“You ought to carry it.”

“Yea.” Brian pulled off the backpack and carried it by the hook. He foraged through the bush line and stopped again once he was through.  Brian scanned the Kelly Woods reconsidering their decision.  

Bushy plants and other undergrowth acted like a fence from the forest of( native trees) that towered as high as a hundred feet in some areas.  The floor of the forest descended as low as fifty feet below the sidewalk at its lowest point.  Occasional openings led to foot worn paths that traversed the green.

Deuce began his trek down a worn path that twisted to the bottom of the woods with a quick twenty foot descent.  At the level off he stepped into a muddy puddle.  “Crap, my new shoes.”  He lifted his knee hanging the soggy foot and studied it for a second.   Then he stomped the ground a few times in an attempt to remove as much water as he could.  He took a few steps with the water logged shoe. “ Squishy. Well, at least one foot is dry.”  When he didn’t hear Brian react, he turned and looked to the opening.  “Come on.”

Brian’s shoulders slumped.  He let out a deep breath, and continued.

 The boys travelled through the forest led by Deuce whose gait became awkward with the waterlogged shoe.  The forest had an isolated feel as it muffled the noise of the cars on the street.  The trickle of a thawing spring and the odd small animal burrowing were the only ambient sounds.  When Brian tripped over a mossy log, his swear echoed through the trees. The mildew scent of rotted leaves and soil filled the air.  Smells like socks thought Deuce. 

The train tracks that crossed the forest were about a half mile from the road.  The tracks were the same height as the street, so in places where the  forest dipped low a rocky base had been created when the tracks were laid, and at one point a wooden bridge traversed the chasm.  In the thirty years since the route had been created, the forest had taken back its land.

Deuce and Brian climbed a rocky embankment that rose ten feet above the forest dirt floor.  While Deuce sat on an exposed wooden railroad tie removing his shoe and sock to wring the moisture from the puddle he had stepped in, Brian set a series of pennies on the rail.

“It’s getting dark, I hope the train comes soon,” said Brian as he looked up at the red swirls of clouds peeking in through the trees.

“It’s not even four o’clock,” said Deuce looking at his watch.  “ It doesn’t get dark for like two hours.  Doesn’t matter, anyways.   We need to keep moving or will miss the professor and Mary Anne.”

“ Well, it’s dark in here,” mumbled Brian.  There weren’t many trees near the tracks, but the surrounding trees went up high enough to catch most of the light.

Brian went back to stacking pennies on the rail until he caught a glimpse of movement out of his periphery.  He turned his head, fell back like he’d been shot and yelled, “RAT.”

Deuce dropped his wet sock and turned to see Brian rolling on the rocks.  Deuce stumbled.  Brian scrambled to get footing on all fours. Then both boys half dove and have ran down the rocky embankment.  Skin and adrenaline were left on the rocks. They reached the dirt floor and both boys sat wide eyed breathing heavy.

Brian looked at his skinned hands and then grabbed his leg to inspect his shin.  Tears began welling in his eyes, but he held them back with a swear.

“Awe man, I think I punctured a lung,” said Duece placing a hand on his left side.  Then he began to laugh.

Brian spit and looked at Deuce.  He felt his shin again.  It hurt, but he started to laugh as well.

“That was…”

The earth shook and a heavy wind passed.  Then the clicking of steel on steel in a deep rhythm started.  The train.  For the next twenty seconds the roar of the train and the shadows of its portrait dominated the forest.  Finally the moan of the pushing engine cleared the air in an explosion of power.  Then the forest grew quiet just as quickly as it was disrupted.

“Holy crap,” said Deuce.  “ I didn’t even hear it coming.”

The boys looked at each other with mouths agape.  “Dang, the rat saved us,” said Deuce. He pointed to Brian’s hand, “ You’re bleeding.”

Brian made a stone face, “ I ain’t got time to bleed.”  Then he smiled at Deuce.

Brian’s eyes shot open and his body stiffened and both of them yelled,” The rat!” They sprinted fifty yards into the woods.  

Both boys were bent over breathing heavy with their hands on their knees.  Brian recovered first and began to scout the area.  Some of the rocks from the embankment had been used to create a fire pit.  The ashy remains of burnt wood covered the bottom of the pit.  The scent of smoke tickled Brian’s nose.  Assorted trash and bottles were strewn across the area.  

Deuce looked at his pale white foot covered with dirt.  He wiggled his toes as he caught his breath checking for mobility.  He looked back towards the tracks where his briefcase and shoe we’re sitting atop the rocky rise.  Behind him came the sound of crashing glass.  Deuce turned his head and watched Brian kick some glass.

“I’d like to point out that I don’t have my shoe,” said Deuce.

Brian picked up a rock and threw it in the direction of a bottle, but missed. 

“I need to get my shoe.”  

Brian threw another rock and this one hit its target.  He looked at Deuce, but said nothing.  He picked up a half empty pack of cigarettes, inhaled its aroma, tossed it on the ground, and crushed it with his shoe.  Deuce started back to the tracks while Brian continued to explore the area for a few more seconds.  When Deuce was halfway back to the tracks Brian looked up and yelled, “hey, wait for me.”

Out of nowhere, appeared two boys several years older than Deuce and Brian.  “Just a minute, little man,” said the shorter of the two who was wearing a Yankees hat as he blocked Brian.  He was a head taller and easily fifty pounds heavier than Brian.  He wore faded jeans and a shirt with the sleeves cut off revealing developed arms.  Even without a coat in the forty degree weather, he wreaked of sweat.

“Hey,” yelled Brian as much to the intruders as to Deuce.

“Easy, we just want to see what you’re up to,” said the the tall skinny boy.  His moon face underneath a mop of shaggy brown hair gave him the look of a cake pop.

Hearing the commotion, Deuce stopped and turned around.  When he saw the larger boys, he turned back and started to run for the tracks, but quickly reconsidered.  Deuce looked up at his shoe by the tracks, then turned back to the boys.  Brian was patting his leg rapidly and looking at the ground.  The older boys were laughing.

Deuce abandoned his shoe and squeaked out, “Hey, we need to go.”

The older boys turned and looked at Deuce.

“Don’t think you’ll get too far like that,” said the taller boy taking note of Deuce’ missing shoe.

“Yea, my foot’s hurt real bad.  I can barley walk” said Deuce as he exaggerated a limp.  Then he fell to the ground like a sailor dropping his kit on a bunk.  While on the ground he untied his other shoe , then jumped up and and hurled it in the direction of the boys.  “RUN,” he yelled.  Deuce took off in a zig zag pattern away from the boys.  Brian kept his position and stiffened when the smaller boy tightened the grip on his shoulder.

The moon faced teenager glided after Deuce and reached him without much effort.  He grabbed Deuce with a bear hug.  “ We were just going to see what you were doing in our camp, no need to be egregious.”

“ I think the word you’re looking for is boisterous.”  Deuce briefly struggled to free himself, but when moon face tightened his hug, Deuce stopped.

“How’s wise ass suit you?”

“About as good as wide Ass suits your friend,” Deuce returned.

“What the hell,” said the other teenager squeezing Brian’s shoulder tighter.  Brian let out a moan.

Moon face walked Deuce back to the pit.  “Give me that tape,” he said to the shorter teenager.

“What? My police tape?” He asked grabbing his back pocket.

“Yea, unless you’ve got some other tape on you.” He walked Deuce over to a tree.  Bring that one too.”

Once they were at the tree, the smaller boy held the boys while moon face wrapped the tape around the boys trapping them against the tree.  Deuce recognized the minty scent of Skoal when the shout boy laughed.  Deuce had tried his father’s chewing tobacco once and had thrown up.  His stomach had the same feeling now.

Brian stood silent with a far away look in his eyes, but Deuce struggled physically and vocally, then just vocally as his appendages became incapacitated.  Deuce could smell Doritos and pee.  The Doritos were from  Brian, the urine he wasn’t sure.  Deuce choose not to mention it.

“Maybe that will teach you to respect your olders,” laughed the short teenager.

It’s elders Deuce thought.

The short teenager gave Deuce a quick slap and laughed.  Both boys disappeared into the woods as quickly as they arrived.

Deuce wiggled his head and shoulders and complained for a few minutes; Brian didn’t move.  “ OKAY, WE’RE SORRY,” Brian yelled.

After a few more minutes, Deuce said to Brian,” I think they left.”  Once again Deuce tried to wiggle free with his head and shoulders.  

Leaves blew across the ground bringing with them a cold chill.  Brian swore.  The light of the forest disappeared over the next hour as if on a dimmer.  As the darkness expanded, the temperature and their hope decreased.  

“Dang, it’s cold.   I think my foot is sleeping,” said Deuce.  

“We’ve got to do something,” said Brian.  Both boys were shivering.  “What would MacGyver do?” 

Deuce laughed for a moment, then got silent trying to keep back tears.  Brian looked around trying to come up with an idea.

“Hey, What if you bite it,” said Brian. “ Yo, Deuce, try to bite the tape.”  Brian craned his head, but couldn’t get near the tape.  Deuce just stared ahead with a far away look in his eyes.  

For thirty minutes they stood in silence until a cold drizzle began to make its way through the canopy.  Soon the the drizzle became rain.  The rain saturated both boys coats.  As the moisture accumulated, the tape began to slack.  Within minutes, the boys were free.

Brian ran to his back pack, but Deuce could only hobble.  He could walk on his right foot, but his left was like a stone.  As if he sprained his ankle, he couldn’t support his weight.  “BRIAN.”

Brian heard the cry but continued gathering his things.

“I CAN’T USE MY FOOT, “ Deuce yelled standing on one foot with the other bent and raised.  

Brian returned to Deuce without saying a word.  As Deuce stood shivering Brian put both straps of his backpack on and put an arm around him.  They made their way through the woods like a three legged dog.  The fresh rain on the already damp forest floor was even more slippery than when they entered.  The dirt was a pudding mud in places and the boys struggled to make quick progress.  When they finally reached the opening to the street the path was too slick to go together. 

“I think we need to make a new opening that isn’t as worn down and slippery,” Brian suggested surveying the ground at the opening.

“Okay, whatever, just get me home.”

“Hold on to my backpack.  It’s not too thick here,” Brian said pointing to the bushes just to the left of the opening.  “I’ll plow through and pull you through.”