*****
Bittersweet
Bridge Over McKinley County River
It is the summer of 1933 in McKinley County, Kentucky. I have been sleeping under the bridge for a pretty good while. I find it to be a great little hideaway from the other homeless people. I like my solitude but in the homeless camp you can’t find much of that. My name is Homer Bentley; I am homeless. My sister Sharon and I live not far from the bridge in Shanty Town, a tent village located in the woods by the river. We like it there. We have been there for about three years. We call it home, for now. Shanty Town is a community of lean to structure tents, tarpaulin teepees, one room huts with dirt floors, outhouses, and trash barrels for fires, along with a mixture of homeless people and dogs. Sharon is a little slow; I watch out for her and she watches out for me. She’s a good girl; we have been through a lot through the years. I guess we have been homeless now for about fifteen years. I don’t guess we will ever settle down. Our home is wherever we are at the time.
The bridge is about five miles from Honey Run, Kentucky on Highway 10 at Junction 23 on Winding Ridge Road. Honey Run is a small town about seventy-five miles from the Ohio and Kentucky state lines. The McKinley River tapers off into the Barron River and feeds through the northern central part of Kentucky. It feeds back into the Ohio River just north of Louisville. From under the bridge you can hear the cars as they cross from one side to the other. The old rusty iron bridge was built in the early 20’s. The cankered rust flakes off the steel railing because it hasn’t been painted in years. As the cars cross, you can hear the wood boards pop and give from the weight of the cars. Sometimes, when the water is up, the children jump off the bridge to swim. People also come after it rains to try their luck at fishing. The banks stay mainly dry since there is not much rain. There are several rocks that lay close to the water’s edge to keep the banks from washing away.
It come a good rain a couple of days ago. The current of the waters were rushing underneath the bridge. The water is a lot deeper now since the rain. It also washed a lot of brush down from up stream.
Late one evening, after the rains, Sharon and I were under the bridge eating our supper which consisted of Vienna sausage with hot sauce and crackers when we heard someone walking on the bridge. It was a man and woman arguing. They argued for about thirty minutes. We couldn’t understand much of what they were saying, but at times she cried out, ‘no, no please don’t.’ It was getting close to dusk. They had no idea we were under the bridge. Suddenly, it sounded like he slapped her. She cried out, ‘no, no please don’t do it.’ The next thing I heard was a loud splash in the water. I jumped to my feet and ran toward the water’s edge. My instinct told me to grab the grass sack. Within minutes, however, the grass sack disappeared under the water and moved swiftly under the bridge. I carefully eased out into the water trying not to be seen. I forced my hand down into the muddy water about where I thought the grass sack was as Sharon watched from the bank. I couldn’t find it; I continued to feel around in the water. When I looked around to make sure no one saw me, I noticed the grass sack had snagged on a tree branch that had washed up under the bridge. Quickly, I grabbed the grass sack; it was heavy. I worked my way back over to the bank to Sharon. I struggled to untie the top of the sack. When I finally got it open, I saw something wrapped in a blanket. Hurriedly, I unwrapped the blanket to find a child with its mouth taped shut. The child was scared, but she was alright. She was crying so Sharon took her into her arms to comfort her. The noise from the river helped drown out the child’s crying. She appeared to be about two or three years of age. As Sharon eased back upon the bank, she carefully maneuvered through the trees to keep the people on the bridge from seeing her. I waded back out into the water to see what would happen next. I could still hear them fussing from the top of the bridge, but just barely. The woman was hysterical. He pushed her down and told her to shut her damn mouth or he was going to kill her. But, unfortunately she kept talking. The next thing I heard was the sound of a gun going off. I saw the woman fall off the edge of the bridge into the busy current of the water below. Within seconds there was a splash in the water to the side of me. I tried to reach for her but the current was too swift. As she floated face down in the creek in a mixture of blood and muddy water, she disappeared under the current. When I turned and looked up toward the edge of the bridge, the man was leaning over the iron railing looking at me. As he raised up and ran to the other side, I made my way down through the woods with Sharon and the child. He fired two more shots into the air and laughed. In a few minutes, I looked back and saw him getting into his car; he cranked it up and left. I looked over at Sharon and then the baby. As we made our way deeper into the woods, we rushed to get back to Shanty Town. Once again, I heard a car crossing over the bridge. We kept on going and didn’t look back. It sounded like some teenagers joyriding, because we heard glass breaking and they were screaming and yelling obscenities.
It was the next day as the early morning sun rested in the sky. The sound of a rooster crowing cackled out across the way.
Sandy Carlton’s sister, Dorothy Carlton, notified the police that Sandy and her baby didn’t come home. She told them it wasn’t like Sandy. She was afraid of what Roger might have done to them because he was so angry and bitter. She told the police that she had bad feelings about the whole situation since Sandy and her boyfriend, Roger Calloway, had been fighting and arguing the day before. The last time she saw her she was getting into his car.
Early that morning, I made my way back to the bridge. As I looked around, I found some drops of blood on the deck of the bridge. There was also blood splattered on the rusty iron railing of the bridge. I didn’t stay but a few minutes, besides a car was headed that way. I quickly walked back under the bridge and into the woods.
It so happened that while Dorothy talked to the police, two men who were looking for dry land fish found her body washed up on the bank about a half of mile from the bridge. Her body was covered with mud and debris. She had been shot twice, once in the head and once in the shoulder. Her arms, legs and face were bruised and scratched from where the river had carried her downstream. The river had beaten her up on the rocky banks as the current carried her to her resting place.
I too had found her earlier that morning, but I kept my distance. I watched from a far off distance, being careful not to be seen. When I left the bridge that morning, I figured she would wash up somewhere down the river. I watched from across the small of the river. Her body lay next to a bulldozer pile. I watched as one of the other men ran to get help. I then turned and headed back to Shanty Town. It took a few minutes for the call to come in. When it did the police were on their way and they brought Dorothy with them. I could hear them crossing the bridge from where I was as the sirens taunted the woods with its haunting sound. It was one of those feelings of chills going up your spine. I figured they came up the old logging trail. It brought them as close as they could get and they walked the rest of the way. As I disappeared out of sight, I looked back once and then headed for Shanty Town.
The baby was doing good and had one heck of an appetite. Luckily not too much water got to her. I believe she was more afraid than anything. I would have to say the Lord was watching over her. I’m afraid to think what would have happened to her if we hadn’t been under the bridge that day. For what little time she’s been with us, she has been a God sent blessing in our lives already. My sister, I call Sissy, had already accepted her as one of us. I knew it would take them a while to find us out, but the waiting would be worth it. I named the child, a girl, B.J.; she was a special child. The others in Shanty Town called her the river child, because she was drawn from the river. She was so tiny. She had some of the smallest fingers and toes I believe I have ever seen and the prettiest little round face. Her fingernails were so tiny and her hair was coal black. Everyone at camp loved her. There were other childr
en in Shanty Town, but they were older. She was the smallest, no bigger than a minute.
I made my way back down to the river’s edge. I made sure they didn’t see me. I got as close as I could so I could hear what they were saying. I sat quiet, humped down behind some wild river bushes and thorns. I wanted to see and hear as much as I could.
But, I knew the day would come when they would find B.J. and take her away from me. It’s hard to raise a child in a place like Shanty Town. In the long run, it might be best if they did find her. She would probably be better off.
Suddenly, the woods were terrorized by a hurting cry passing in the wind; a cry over the loss of a loved one. Immediately, the birds in the trees took flight as the echo of Dorothy’s fear became reality. They had reached the body. As they were getting ready to remove the body, the woman they called Dorothy was hysterical over her sister’s death. She cried out that Roger had done it. As Dorothy cried out more, she asked God where her niece, Holly, was. She prayed for her sister’s child to be alright. As the search party began to spread out and look for the child, I heard the officer in charge put out an APB for Roger Calloway, the boyfriend of the child’s mother. He wanted him brought in no matter what it would take. He warned them that he may be armed and dangerous. As I made my way back across the river and through the woods, the search team was dragging the river from the bridge down for the child. I was afraid they might find Shanty town. If they did they would take B.J. away. But, luckily it seemed their main focus of the search was the river and its bank. The manhunt for Roger Calloway went on for days, but they were unsuccessful.
By now, I had made up my mind to leave Shanty Town. The search team was getting too close. I didn’t want to lose B.J., so Sharon, B.J. and I headed south since winter would soon be up on us. We were already in the dog days of summer; it was late July and August was just around the corner.
They finally found Roger in Tennessee. He had been pulled over for a traffic violation; he was weaving back and forth. He was arrested for DUI. When the officer did a background check, he found out he was wanted in Kentucky for questioning regarding a murder. The police noticed he was acting very suspicious. The officer then searched his car and found a gun hidden under the front seat along with beer cans and whiskey bottles. The police brought him in and he was later transported back to Kentucky. The gun was tested and found to be the murder weapon that killed Sandy Carlton. He was pending trial for first degree murder, which could possibly become two counts.
Lawrence Jenkins, the D.A., informed his assistant that other than the gun all they had was circumstantial evidence. Ballistics had proven the gun found in Roger’s car was the same gun that killed Sandy Carlton. There was also proof that the blood splatter on the iron railing matched her blood type and the scratch on her leg was caused when she fell from the bridge. Her blood and pieces of her skin were found on a bur on the iron railing. But, it was still all circumstantial. However, it could be enough to sway the jury to return a guilty verdict. Lawrence knew the gun was their only hope.
The search team dragged the river for four days and came up with nothing. But, Dorothy never gave up; she was no quitter. She still hoped and prayed the Lord would help them find Holly. She knew Roger had done something with Holly, but she didn’t know what. It was a million dollar question.
During Roger’s interrogation with the Kentucky D.A. and the detective, he told them he didn’t know where Holly was and the last time he saw her she was with Sandy.
“I don’t know what she did with Holly. I can’t tell you something I don’t know,” he stated.
“Did you kill Holly?” questioned the D.A. “Did you hide her body?”
“No,” he repeatedly replied. “I don’t know anything about her.”
“You’re lying, Roger. You’re telling a damn lie. Tell us where the child is and things may be a little easier for you in court.”
Roger spit on the D.A. and told him to go to hell.
“You’ll never find her,” he boasted as he laughed.
About that time the detective ran over and picked him up out of his chair and started hitting him. But, Lawrence stopped him.
“Take him out,” said the D.A. to the officer, “and lock him back down.”
“We have enough to charge him for one murder,” said the detective. “Do you want to do that?”
“We can try him for Sandy Carlton’s murder,” replied Lawrence, “and cross the bridge about the little girl later. Yeah, let’s go for it.”
Within a few days, Roger went up before the judge. The D.A. stated his case. A court appointed lawyer, Dwayne Harris, was representing Roger. Little did the D.A. know that Roger’s lawyer was one step ahead of him. As the judge reviewed the charges and the situation of the case, he stated to the D.A. that he would have to suppress the gun as evidence since it had been obtained from an illegal search. The officer in Tennessee had searched Roger’s car without a warrant. Then Roger’s lawyer spoke up and petitioned the judge to set him free since the only other evidence the D.A. had was circumstantial.
“Do you have any other strong evidence that may wave a verdict or do you want to try your luck with what circumstantial evidence you have already?” questioned the judge.
“We do have probable cause and a motive, your Honor,” said the D.A. “They were not married and the missing child is not his. We believe that we can prove he committed the murder in a jealous rage because the child belonged to another man.”
“Sounds good,” stated the judge. “Bring the argument to court with supportive evidence, counselor, and give it a try.”
“Roger Calloway you’re free to go,” said the judge. “Hearing dismissed.”
As Lawrence and his assistant left the courtroom that day he started searching for answers. By the time they reached his office, he received a call from the sheriff. The sheriff told him they had found Shanty Town not far from the bridge and he might want to question some of its occupants. Hurriedly, Lawrence and his assistant dropped what they were doing and rushed out there. When they arrived, they had to park their car next to the bridge. A deputy met them there and took them to Shanty Town. At first the occupants were quiet and no one had anything to say. It was obvious no one wanted to get involved. Lawrence told them about the murdered woman and her missing little girl. They nervously stood there and listened. Lawrence asked them if they knew where the child was and if she was alright.
“We are not here to cause you any trouble,” Lawrence said. “We just want to find the child and give her back to her aunt so she can be to taken care of. Do you know anything? Anything at all about her that may help us find her? Have you seen her?” he asked as he showed them a picture of her.
One of them spoke up, “B.J. is fine,” he said. “She’s in good hands.”
“Thank God she is alive,” said Lawrence.
“B.J. is not the name of the little girl we are looking for,” replied Lawrence. “Holly is her name.”
“Sir, it is probably her,” he said. “Homer named her B.J. because he didn’t know her real name. We called her the river child, because Homer drew her out of the river.”
He told them the whole story and that Homer and his sister, Sharon, left Shanty Town because he was scared B.J. would be found and taken away from him.
“He loves that little girl as if she was his own. He wouldn’t hurt her for nothing; you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Where can I find him?” asked Lawrence. “She has an aunt who is worried to death about her. We just want to reunite.”
“Well, she is safe with Homer. Tell her not to worry. We don’t know where Homer is. He left weeks ago. There’s no telling where he is. He moves around a lot and don’t stay in one place very long.”
“We have no idea,” said another.
“Can you give us a description of Homer and his sister?”
“Sure,” the old man replied.
/> After the man gave them descriptions of Homer and Sharon, they left Shanty Town, went back to the office and called Dorothy and informed her they had a new lead on her niece. She was so glad to hear that. But, she was still worried about her being with a stranger. Lawrence told her he believed Holly was fine and that they were putting an all points bulletin out for me, my sister and the child. After the phone call, Lawrence contacted the sheriff to issue another warrant to bring Roger Calloway back in. He knew all he had was circumstantial evidence but he’d rather take a chance with that than to let him walk free. He knew deep down in his heart that Roger did it and he hoped the jury would be able to see it too. By the evening of the next day the sheriff brought him in. What they had wasn’t much, but it might be enough to create a reasonable doubt with the jury. Within weeks they presented their evidence before the jury. They had a bloody partial fingerprint from the iron railing, his pants with a smear of her blood on the backside and a heel print of his shoe that was found in her blood on the bridge. Hopefully, with a God sent miracle this would be enough for a guilty verdict. The next few days were crucial. The D.A. presented the case to the jury and the court and stood his ground. The discussion then went over in the hands of the jury for deliberation. They waited patiently. The hands of the clock didn’t seem to even move.
Holly had not been found before the trial. The search continued on. Timing was the key; the quicker the better.
It was about two hours later when the jury returned. Lawrence said a little prayer to himself as the court officer handed the verdict over to the judge from the jury foreman.
The judge stated, “You have a hung jury.”
He dismissed the jury and Lawrence’s heart fell in his stomach; he was sick. Roger Calloway walked free once again. As Roger walked by the D.A. that day in the courtroom he gave him a hard look and laughed in his face. I guess this was the last chance for the D.A. to get him for the murder of Sandy Carlton. There is no doubt in Lawrence’s mind, but he didn’t have the convicting evidence needed to lock him away for good. As Roger headed out the door, he saw the D.A. looking at him and gave him the finger.
A month later, the D.A. we received a report on me, Homer Bentley. I had gotten into a fight with a man in Florida and was arrested and sent back to Kentucky with Sharon and B.J. (Holly). When we arrived in Kentucky the D.A. was waiting to talk to us. The child was doing good and was well taken care of. But, B.J. didn’t want to leave me. She cried and held on to me and Sharon as she begged Dorothy to let her stay with us. Dorothy took the child and went home. As the D.A. questioned me and Sharon, he told us that we were in serious trouble for taking the child and that we could be charged with kidnapping, carrying the child out of state, and interfering with a police investigation. I never said a word.
“What do you want with me?” I asked.
“I want Roger Calloway for the murder of Sandy Carlton and the attempted murder of Holly,” replied the D.A. “Can you do that?”
“What do I get in return?” I replied.
“You walk away a free man?” said Lawrence.
“Can I be with B.J.?” I asked.
“That I don’t know; that’s not for me to say. That will be up to child services. But you can help us get her mother’s killer,” replied the D.A. “Tell me what happened that day on the bridge.”
I told the D.A. what happened on the bridge and that I would be a witness to the fact of the crimes on McKinley Bridge. The D.A. put an APB out for Roger Calloway. It took them about three weeks to find him, but they did and brought him back to Kentucky for the third time. At the same time, Kentucky Child Services had placed Holly in the custody of Dorothy, her aunt. Sharon and I were allowed to see her from time to time, but after the trial Dorothy moved away and no one knew her whereabouts. Sharon and I were lost without her and I never did get over it. I did go on and testify against Roger Calloway and stayed around Honey Run the rest of my life. The jury found Roger guilty of murder in the first degree and attempted murder for the child along with some other unrelated charges. He got thirty years without the possibility of parole. Roger Calloway was found dead on the outside basketball court after serving five years in prison. His death still remains a mystery to this day.
Fourteen years later, Holly (B.J.) is now 20 years old; she came back to Honey Run searching for me and Sharon. She walked across McKinley Bridge, the first time since the incident. She stopped and looked over the side of the bridge and watched the muddy water go by. As she made her way across the bridge, she looked once again at the river. Unexpectedly, she heard someone call her name.
“B.J., I knew one day you’d come back.”
Quickly, she turned to see who it was; it was Sharon.
“Where’s Homer?” she asked.
“He’s gone,” she said. “He passed about five years ago; he died of cancer. He waited and watched everyday for you to come back. He loved you; you were his life. All he wanted to do was take care of you.”
“I wanted to come back but they wouldn’t let me. I even ran away twice, but they came and got me. I loved him so much. I wish I could have been here.”
“There is something he asked me to do for him before he died.”
“What’s that?” asked B.J.
“He was cremated and wanted me to find you to spread his ashes off the bridge. He said that you and him would always be together in your hearts.”
“Do you have his ashes?” she asked.
“Yes, I do. I have always kept them with me just in case you ever returned.”
Sharon went to her car that was parked at the end of the bridge. She returned with my urn. As her hands shook, Sharon undid the lid. B.J. walked over to the edge of the bridge and slowly emptied my ashes into the water below. As they held hands and hugged each other, they watched the last of my ashes disappear under the bridge.
“I love you, B.J., and I’ve missed you. Homer would have been proud of you.”
Life is full of twists and turns. My last name was Bentley. I had changed my name when I was young after I was adopted. My real name is Calloway. The Bentley’s had adopted me. I was the older brother of Roger Calloway and Sharon was my half sister.
*****
Beyond the Truth
A Cry in the Wind
Thistles and Thorns
Dead Limbs and Leaves
Troubled Waters
When Autumn Falls
When Time Was
To read other works by Bobby A. Troutt, visit bobbysbooks.8m.com
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