Bootlegger’s Creek
By Heather Ann Martinez
Wyatt looked up at the stars. He unloaded the last box from the moving van. He still could not believe that he and Lilly were well enough to live away from the hospitals. He couldn’t believe that their odyssey of check-ups every three weeks and monthly scans were now over. He couldn’t believe they could finally move on with their lives and decided to go to where it all started-Walton County. Wyatt wanted to visit Walton County creek as soon as possible.
Walton County creek lay between the Georgia mountains and never ending sea of wild fields. Locals knew how to get there. They never shared directions with strangers. The gas station attendant scratched his head when Wyatt and Lilly asked him how to get there. They explained that they hadn’t been to Bootlegger’s creek as the locals called Walton County creek since they were teenagers. Now, married, and in their late 60’s, they knew they were not up to running to the creek as they had when they were much younger. The gas station attendant questioned them for a good twenty minutes on Walton County’s history. He eventually gave them a route to the location they wanted to find and cautioned that they might want to go in the morning as it was close to sunset. They told the gas attendant that was the whole point. They knew they would still have to walk a good deal of the way there as much of the land surrounding the creek was protected as part of a federal conservation effort. There weren’t going to be any condominiums or skyscrapers in that part of the region. The locals preferred to leave progress to the city dwellers.
Wyatt recalled sliding down a cliff and being chased off a neighbor’s fields to get to the best spot on the creek bed. He told Lilly he buried a time capsule there and planned to unearth it now that fifty years had passed. Wyatt had planned a great many adventures with his first wife Jane. He regretted never having children. He did not have any siblings and was the last of his family line.
Lilly’s son Matt was married and called every Sunday. He moved to Denver and opened a bed and breakfast with his wife and stepdaughter. Wyatt and Lilly promised to visit but never did. They just moved to Lilly’s family home with the tree house that rekindled much of their love only footsteps away from the front door. Wyatt loved Lilly and was loyal to her. He promised that he would stay by her side through all of the surgeries, the treatments, the needles, the drug therapies and weight loss. He spoon fed her and held her through the fevers. He dealt with his own suffering by caring for her. Although the doctors suggested that they both be hospitalized for their own therapies, Wyatt insisted that he could take care of both of them. At first, Matt helped. He would buy groceries and helped Lilly move to Wyatt’s condo near the hospital. As Lilly began to experience the side affects of the treatment, Matt called less and less.
One of Wyatt’s third cousins came to stay with Wyatt and Lilly through the worst part of their treatments. Lorna was a nurse and was all too eager to help. She had followed Wyatt’s journalism career and read the three books he penned. Wyatt had chased a story over three decades on two continents. He would tell you he was not the best at what he did to put a piece on the front page, but he would tell you the piece on the front page would be the story you never considered. He made an angle where there might not have been one. He knew what his readers needed to see. He knew what would make them laugh, what would make them angry enough to protest and what would bring them to tears. Lorna was several years younger than Wyatt. She was a good friend to Wyatt and Lilly during their recovery. Lorna often felt guilty about what Lilly confided in her that Wyatt did not know or recollect. She wanted to share everything with Wyatt that Lilly shared with her but did not want to interfere with their recoveries. She would only ask Wyatt questions Wyatt knew he should ask Lilly but never seemed to have the right time to. Lilly never talked about Matt’s father or any other romantic relationships she had been in. Wyatt knew her parents wanted her to find happiness again with Wyatt. He was curious to know if Lilly had found happiness with someone else.
Although Wyatt was madly in love with Lilly, Jane was never too far off from his thoughts. He always thought she would be at home waiting for him. She had been his editor, his critic and convert in every paragraph. Her death was so unexpected that it took the police and a witness to her car accident to convince him that she was not going to come home. She would never meet him in life but would often visit in a daydream, an old postcard or perfumed envelope he kept in his desk. Wyatt did not pursue charges against the driver that killed Jane. He never laid eyes on that person. He was so overcome with grief, that he stopped writing for a year.
It was an hour after speaking with the gas station that Wyatt and Lilly reached Bootlegger’s creek. It was getting dark. Wyatt immediately began digging for his time capsule. As a child, he studied the creek and made certain his time capsule would not wash away in the water. Lilly remembered wading through the creek with Jane and Vern skipping rocks. She also laughed about why the locals called it Bootlegger’s creek. During the Prohibition, local bootleggers would use the creek to transport their moonshine out of the county. Lilly also knew that other not so honest deeds took place near that creek bed. Lilly conceived her child there.
“Dance with me Wyatt.” Lilly demanded.
“Sure, after I find the time capsule.” Wyatt responded. His hands were full of dirt as he began digging.
“Do you remember coming here after prom? You had been trying to work up the nerve to talk to Jane about going out on a date with you but you continued dancing with me. We continued dancing right here.”
“I don’t remember coming out here after prom, Lilly. It was a long time ago.” Wyatt stopped digging. “We were drinking that night, weren’t we?”
“Yes, someone put a lot of the homemade brew in the punch and we took a bottle with us when we came here. We sat under that tree and you finished off that bottle.”
“I kissed you.” Wyatt said softly as the memories started returning. He stopped digging and looked at Lilly. “I never meant to...”
“I know. We weren’t thinking. As it turns out, we weren’t thinking much at all. Do you know why I missed the first semester of our senior year? Do you know why I couldn’t stay out past seven when we were in college?” Lilly demanded.
“Lilly, I didn’t know. How could I know? You never said anything about...”
“About a child. About our child.” Lilly began crying.
“Is Matt my son?” Wyatt asked.
“Yes, Matt is your son. He doesn’t know. I told him his father lived in Morocco and would never return to this side of the Atlantic. I never thought you would come back into my life Wyatt. Matt is so much like you. He is so driven, so passionate. He couldn’t wait to get out of here and start his life. My family gave him what he needed. He knew he was loved but stayed distant because I never told him about you. I knew he wanted to hear that his father loved me, and we had to part for unforeseen circumstances. I never wanted him to know that I loved someone who loved someone else.” Lilly couldn’t stop sobbing.
Wyatt was still kneeling on the ground.
“Lilly, we have been together for almost twelve years. Why didn’t you say anything? Why are you telling me now?” Wyatt started crying.
“Because you are going to find more than your writings and treasures in your time capsule. You are going to find letters and Matt’s baby pictures. I dug up your time capsule a year after prom. I knew you would come back here some day. I just didn’t know I’d be with you when you did.” Lilly said as tears continued to stream down her face.
Wyatt continued digging and unearthed the time capsule. Sure enough, Lilly’s letters and pictures were concealed in plastic sandwich bags. Wyatt showed her the bucket list he had made. At the top of his list was to marry a woman he deeply loved and the second was to have a child. The third was to have a career in journalism. Wyatt dug a pen out of his jacket pocket and crossed all three off his list.
Tears of joy streaming from his face. Matt was calling his cell phone. It was Sunday evening. Wyatt looked up at the stars.
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2 comments
I really liked the plot idea, it was super interesting. I do think that if you used more descriptive words it would make the pacing more steady. Keep writing! -Assigned Critique
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I think you have a good order of story telling, I only wish their was more of a flow in emotion. It is almost too abrupt when all the secrets come pouring out since the prologue is a bit long. -assigned critique
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