Page 6 of The If Bridge


  After Tim returned, they swept the boat clean. Then they mopped it using water from the lake and let it dry. It was not clean enough to eat off of, mind you, but it was certainly clean enough to sit on, as long as you didn’t mind having a muddy butt.

  Molly was not happy, but even she had to admit it was a lot less scuzzy now, and more importantly, she couldn’t see anything moving.

  Finally, they got to what had brought them here to begin with… fishing! Tim dug up a few worms, to use as bait, so quickly it amazed Molly. Of course, Maggie already knew firsthand about his incredible skills as a turtle-feeding worm-digger. Then they piled into the boat and shoved off. Maggie manned one oar, Molly the other.

  But then… there seemed to be a problem. Tim sat with a fish hook in his left hand and a worm in his right, and he just couldn’t bring the two together. With beads of sweat forming on his forehead, he finally admitted, “I can’t do this. I can’t stick this worm on the hook. It’s looking up at me.”

  “I thought you and your Dad go fishing all the time?” asked Molly.

  “We do. But, we use c-corn and wads of bread.”

  “And do you catch anything?”

  “No, not really.”

  “So basically, you just sit in the boat and watch the fish swim by?”

  “Well, k-k-kind of.”

  “And that’s fun?”

  “Sure!”

  “OK, no big deal.”

  Actually, both Maggie and Molly were glad Tim couldn’t bring himself to skewer the worms. What had those little guys done to deserve that kind of treatment anyway?

  They rowed back to the shore and Tim got out, released the worms where he had found them, and rode his bike back to the farm. When he returned he had a bag of frozen corn and several slices of white bread. The three kids then spent the next hour feeding fish. As a piece of food would hit the water, a hungry mouth would appear and gobble it up. They had a great time. It was, perhaps, better than fishing. Fish-feeding. And I must tell you from experience, it’s loads of fun feeding squirrels and pigeons too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  One week later, at Molly’s pleading and Mrs. Morgan’s inevitable surrender, Matilda’s doctor made a house call to examine Molly. He said her foot had healed nicely and she no longer needed her cast for support. He was an old style family doctor who did his doctoring at the patient’s bedside, armed with his little black bag.

  He knew everyone in the area and everyone knew him. And he had the dubious distinction of having made most of the area people cry. By that I mean, he had delivered and smacked many babies. Aren’t too many like him around any more, and that’s too bad.

  Using a special electric saw, he cut the cast cleanly off. And as noisy and scary as it was, it didn’t hurt a bit. Molly was so happy to be rid of that thing, she felt like dancing… but thought she probably should wait another week or so, just in case. Well, at least now they could go swimming. She had suspected that Maggie and Tim had themselves abstained because they knew she couldn’t go. Now, they could all go swimming with the fishes. You know what I mean.

  Anyway, without anyone noticing it, life had once again settled down to what it had been before their big adventure. Conversation about the Bridge, and all the fantastic creatures they’d met, had slowly but surely given way to a rediscovered summer vacation. The brain has a method for dealing with what no longer needs to be foremost on our minds. We simply fold and tuck it away. To be opened whenever we choose. Or, we can keep it shut away for a long, long time. Under lock and key if need be.

  In four more days, they would be leaving for home, and shortly after that, starting a new semester of school. Maybe then, in the comfort of everyday life, they would revisit those locked away experiences. For now, though, all Maggie, Molly, and Tim wanted to do was have a little fun, and hang around with their friends. That was their plan. You really can’t blame them!

  The only problem was that there were others, with plans of their own. And these two disparate plans were not necessarily in sync.

  *****

  The Wolf looked hungrily at Horris. Although she had been human at one time, living as a wolf for so many years had definitely left its mark. The primitive portion of her brain was in constant battle with her intellect; and more and more lately, the primitive part was winning. She fought hard now to bite back her desires. They still needed Horris… for the moment, anyway.

  OK, but why did the enemies need him? He certainly was not as formidable as any of them. It boiled down to one little thing… actually, two. Thumbs! Thumbs he could use to pick up an ax. Thumbs he could use to swing that ax into the fragile old wood of the Bridge. Yes, thumbs can come in mighty handy if you’re trying to demolish something. Ah, such is the sober reality of humanity. We are creatures born with incredible aptitudes for both creating and destroying.

  “Do you understand what you need to do?” asked the Wolf, punctuating each word, as she paced impatiently about the others. She was speaking to Horris.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it,” said Horris snottily, as he leaned on a shovel. “I steal the ax, I bring it to the Bridge, I start chopping away. What’s not to understand? It’s a no-brainer.”

  “You’re a no-brainer, you idiot. Nothing is ever simple,” the Wolf growled back. “No one can see you take the ax or you will be questioned, or worse, followed. The Bear and the Deer must first be lured away or they will try to stop you from damaging the Bridge. And all this must be done at a time when you will not be missed, so no one will come looking for you. But before any of this is even attempted, you must first trick one of the children away from the safety of the others. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah, OK, I get it,” said Horris meekly. “I won’t forget. This needs to be done late at night and only after you give me the signal that the Bear and the Deer have been lured away.”

  The Vulture and the Snake snickered softly as Horris endured this verbal laceration and was left emotionally bleeding before their eyes.

  “And did you bring that little item we spoke about?” the Wolf continued.

  Horris handed over a pink baseball cap emblazoned with the initials MM.

  “MM? Ah, now I see. Molly Morgan. It is a miracle. You have done something right. We will contact you before tomorrow evening. Remember, we will need you to separate this Molly child from the rest of the humans. The success of our plan depends upon it.”

  Horris nodded, avoiding eye contact with any of them. He was in deep now, and was starting to wonder just how that had happened so quickly and so completely.

  “Now dig that hole for us,” growled the Wolf. “And gather some long sticks and branches.”

  *****

  The Bear was pacing back and forth over the Bridge. And when he wasn’t pacing, he was resting with one eye open, keeping the Bridge in his sight. He had not left his post in several days. The Deer had even started bringing him his food… and if you think it’s easy for a deer to catch a trout… well, it’s not. So his meals were meager. He had become so obsessed with the thought that the enemies would attack, the Deer had become concerned for her welfare as well as his. If indeed the enemies attacked, they would find the Bear, fatigued and hungry as he was, in a very compromised state. A tired, starving soldier is not a very good fighter. So then what?

  “Please, go back to your den. I can watch the Bridge while you get some rest,” begged the Deer. “And eat something. You’ll be no good to anyone if you become so weak you become ill. I will blow the horn if I need you.”

  This basic argument, in one form or another, had been going on for three days now, and finally the Bear’s resolve was beginning to waver. He was ready to admit that the Deer was right. He had become weak and would not be able to put up a very good fight. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to fuel his body. But mostly, he needed rest.

  So, “Yes,” was all he said to a surprised Deer, as he slunk off into the forest in search of sleep. The Deer took his place as guard, and before long, she
too began pacing.

  *****

  Manny sat in the kitchen chatting with Milda about what needed to be done around the farm. And there was always something to be done. The most urgent of which was putting up new chicken wire around the coop. Being fairly thin, something had managed to break through and had gone after the chickens. Thankfully, the only damage done so far had been several irate birds and a few stolen eggs. But still, it had to stop.

  “Burt at the feed store suggested using hog wire instead,” said Manny. “It costs more, but it’s a lot heavier than chicken wire and will keep most anything out.”

  “Well, it’ll probably save us money in the long run,” Milda sighed. “But you listen to me. You tell those children they must help. They can do some work around here. They should pull their own weight!”

  “Be nice, dear. They are good kids. Trust me, I know. But yes, I will ask them to help.”

  “Humph… good.” Then Milda’s mood softened. Her expression became wistful as her voice betrayed a long-suppressed longing. “You know Manny,” she said. “I do enjoy having the children visit. When I was a younger woman I thought that maybe someday… But really, enough of this nonsense. My life has been good.” Her eyes met Manny’s. “Very, very good.”

  Then Manny sighed, stood up, leaned over, and kissed Milda on her forehead. “Yes, life has been good,” he said. “And you... you are one tough little chihuahua, all bark and no bite. But that will remain our little secret. The world will continue to see you as the ferocious pit bull you pretend to be.”

  Milda forced an angry face. Then she curled up her left lip and snarled. The both of them laughed like children.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Next morning, the Deer was still standing guard by the Bridge. She was tired and thirsty, so she leaned into the waterfall and drank deeply, then let the cool spray splash her face to rejuvenate her. The water felt good, both inside and out.

  Then as she turned, surprise, the Vulture was standing by the Bridge. In his beak a pink cap. That must belong to one of the children, she thought. What game is he playing? And with that she leaped after him. He, of course, flew away. But he flew low and slow, cursing his luck, annoyed it was the Deer and not the Bear chasing him. He was the one they were concerned about, not her. But never mind. The Deer would have to do.

  *****

  Everyone wore leather gloves. Horris too. Manny had requested the children’s help. All the children. And no one could refuse a special request from Manny. Horris had voiced his annoyance, but Milda quickly stared him down into submission.

  Mr. Morgan carried the hog wire and other supplies from Manny’s pickup over to the chicken coop. It seemed like overkill to him. Just what was trying to get at these chickens anyway, he wondered. A mountain lion? Oh, well, Manny knew what he was doing. One thing was for certain, these chickens were not going to break out… not that they would ever try, mind you. Years ago, Milda and Matilda had stopped having them “over for dinner,” so to speak. Now, these birds whiled away their time in comfort, laying eggs and clucking about. And when they could no longer lay eggs, they remained where they were, nicely cared for until they died of old age. Break out? No, more likely neighboring chickens would try to break in.

  So, first, the crew built a wooden frame around the coop, and dug a trench a half-foot deep along it. Then they stapled the wire to the frame, making sure to bury the wire into the ground. That would ensure nothing could dig its way through. Finally, they put gravel where wire met dirt as an extra measure of defense. And now, the word paranoid seemed more appropriate.

  Work had started at 8 am, and it was now 5 pm. They had worked through, only stopping for lunch, which was served by Mrs. Morgan. But as they were all pretty grimy, they ate outside. It had been a long day and boy were they sore. When they finally stopped to admire their work, everyone thought… boy am I sore.

  “You all did a fine job,” beamed Manny. “I thank you. And I’m sure, if they could, the chickens would thank you too.”

  Mr. Morgan’s eyes swept the group. “Nice job, kids,” he said, putting his arms around Molly and Maggie’s shoulders, and nodding to Tim and Horris. “Dessert’s on me!”

  Then the calm of their reverie was broken by the sound of a screeching bird. Everyone looked up and saw a large vulture sitting atop the roof, flapping vigorously. And then, he flew off. No one gave it a second thought. All except Horris, that is, who knew this was his signal.

  Whoa, time out. I know what you’re going to say. The last we knew, the Vulture was being chased by the Deer? Well, what happened with that? Don’t worry. You’ll see in chapter sixteen.

  Mr. Morgan and Manny stayed to put the tools away, as the rest of the crew started towards the house to get cleaned up and ready for dinner. As they were walking, Horris grabbed Molly’s arm. She spun around, and when she saw who it was, was about to slug him. But before that could happen, he whispered, “I know what happened last week in the woods, and I can tell you more. Lots more. Meet me here by the coop tonight at 11. And don’t tell anyone.”

  Now as courageous as Maggie was, and as gentle as Tim was, Molly possessed the wonderful attributes of being both hotheaded and nosy. She’d be there.

  A while later, everyone gathered for a home cooked dinner. And being the eccentric spirit she was, Milda served up roast chicken. No, no, it’s not what you think. These birds came nicely packaged, and purchased, from the town Mega-Mart.

  *****

  “I, uh, need to go ask my Mom about something,” said Molly, as Maggie stared up at her.

  “Now?” yawned Maggie, her eyes half closed. “Can’t it wait until morning?”

  “No, it can’t. But you go back to sleep. I won’t be long.”

  “O… ” said Maggie… and she was asleep before she could say “K.”

  So Molly left the room, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs. She thought she had heard something. Talking… crying… gunfire. Gunfire? Ah, someone was in the living room watching TV. But that shouldn’t be a problem, as the staircase led to the hallway, which led to the front door. It was possible someone might spot her, but only if they craned their neck more than the average neck could comfortably crane.

  Molly was on the last step, when suddenly, the sound stopped. Good grief, she thought. Now they decide to turn off the TV! Someone would soon be coming to her right, so she spun quickly to her left and hid in the shadows.

  And sure enough, Milda, Matilda, and Mrs. Morgan came shuffling out of the living room, yawning and mumbling, and went up the stairs. Molly heard a trio of good-nights, then heard closing doors. She looked at her watch, saw she was now a few minutes late, and made a beeline for the front door.

  *****

  Molly stood by the chicken coop waiting. Where is he? she fumed. Was this his idea of a joke? If he didn’t show, she’d pop him one.

  Then, after spending a few more minutes fuming, she saw a dark silhouette by the side of the coop. It was Horris. He was waving to her. “Psst, hey,” he hissed. “Molly, come over here. I have something to show you.”

  Molly frowned, but walked towards him, until she herself was just a silhouette swallowed by the gloom. He had the oddest expression on his face. His eyes were open wide, and he was either smiling, or getting ready to scream or… ? No, she just couldn’t read his face. And, what the heck, he was holding an ax!

  As they stood facing each other, quite suddenly, and with a thump, a great weight fell upon her shoulders. Then, to her horror, something began wrapping around her neck. She scratched and clutched vainly at it. She could not breathe, nor could she speak. She looked to Horris for help, but knew in an instant no help would be coming from him. He was fighting back laughter. He looked terribly amused. OK, so now she was able to read him.

  She continued struggling against her unseen assailant as best she could. But her legs betrayed her. They became rubbery and useless, and she was getting weak. She collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap. The Snake uncoiled
himself from her throat.

  Horris dragged Molly behind the coop where he lifted and draped her over yet another shadowy figure… the Wolf. Then, the Snake once again wrapped himself around the girl. This time, securing her to her ride.

  Cloaked in darkness and silence, they moved quickly away from the farm and into the woods. When Molly came to, she would find she had become an extremely dispensable pawn in an exceedingly sinister game of chess.

  *****

  “Tim, wake up. Something’s not right. I can’t find Molly. Tim… will you wake up!” Maggie shook him. Her hair was disheveled and she was still in her nightgown, but she was very much awake. She stared down at two eyes that wanted so desperately to stay closed. But they couldn’t stay closed. Not now.

  “Whadayouwant,” slurred Tim. “Go ‘way.”

  “No, I won’t go away. Molly is missing. She told me she needed to talk to her Mom, but that was over an hour ago. When I woke up a little while ago, she wasn’t in bed. I looked all around the house and she’s not anywhere.”

  It took a minute, but then it slowly started to sink in. Maggie was not standing there to make his life miserable. She needed his help to find their friend. “OK,” he mumbled. “Go get dressed and I’ll meet you in the hall in two minutes.”

  “Good,” said Maggie. “Then we should recheck the house to make sure I didn’t miss her.”

  “Yeah, OK,” said a still blurry Tim.

  So they did recheck. Checked everywhere they could think of, but they still came up empty. Molly was gone. Nowhere to be found. But where had she gone? And why?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Deer was keeping up with the Vulture. It was obvious he wanted her to follow him, and it might be a trap. But she kept following anyway. She had to. If the cap he held meant that one of the children was possibly involved with the likes of him… well, she had to. They had put themselves at significant risk for her and her friends, and had shown what they were made of. She would do no less.

  The forest gave way to a dark clearing where the tree tops were so closely knit they blocked all light from the night sky. But she could still see him at the far edge. Standing on a rock. The cap still firmly in his beak. His stance appeared to offer a challenge, indicating he was standing his ground. “Oh, you poor little deer,” he said mockingly. “Are you too tired to catch me? I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll stay right where I am. You can catch me if I’m standing still, can’t you?”