"I got frostbite. Deer hunting."
Well, maybe now she'll leave me alone now.
Brad turned back to The Cruel Sea which he had flat on top of the desk and holding it open with his right forearm so he wouldn't have to use either hand to hold it.
"Frostbite? Let me see them again.” Annie demanded. “How did you get frostbite?" There was no mistaking the disbelief and concern in her soft voice. She turned slightly away from Brad so that she could sit on the very edge of her chair. Her straw colored hair spread over Brad's arm and shoulder when she bent down to look at his hands again.
"They look awful. Did you go to the doctor's?"
No! Don't you know we can't afford to go to the doctor?
She studied the palm of his right hand while still waiting for an answer and she gently lifted his left hand off of his desk and looked at the discolored skin of his thumb and first two finger tips.
"You're going to lose those nails." She said in a very matter-of-fact tone and so sure of herself that Brad shifted his gaze back to her face.
"Well? Did you?" This time she demanded an answer.
"No! I didn't. My mom said there wasn't any need to. Anyway, they'll heal pretty soon."
"Well I think you should go to the doctor. They look terrible, and they could get infected.
"You're limping. Did you hurt your feet, too?"
Brad looked towards the front of the room to where Miss Hurley the study hall teacher was correcting papers at her desk and Brad hoped she would look at him so he wouldn't have to answer anymore of Annie's questions.
Boy, is she nosey. I don't know why she cares anyway.
She makes me horny though when she leans over my desk and I can see her bra. She has freckles on the tops of her boobs.
Brad kept looking in the normally impish blue eyes and the soft look of concern they now held. Their intensity made him answer even though his conscious mind didn't want to.
"It isn't bad. Nothing like my fingers and I'm not going to lose any toenails."
The petite blond slid back onto her chair before turning to check that Miss Hurley was still busy at her desk.
"You get your driver's license this month don't you, Brad?
"Are you going to ask me out after you do?"
Like I'm taking the test next week, January 6th.
He felt trapped like a little boy caught playing with matches and knew that his face blazed a hot fire engine red. He had no way out, but he had no answer either. He mumbled the only answer he could think of.
"I don't think my dad will let me take the car out at night."
"We could go to Elmdale on Sunday afternoon, to a matinee."
"I'll ask my dad."
One part of Brad's mind was ecstatic about the prospect of taking Annie Phillips out on a date, while the other part was terrified and full of all of the reasons to why it wouldn't work.
Today was one of the few days in Brad’s life when he felt like one of the luckiest kids on earth. He was taking the steps two at a time going up to Bouncer Sargant's office to get a pass to leave school at two o’clock. In just over an hour he would be out the door and heading for Peterboro to take his driver's test. Today was his sixteenth birthday and three days ago a January thaw had arrived in southern New Hampshire. It melted the roads down to bare asphalt and relieved any worry of their 1938 Chevrolet giving any cold weather fits. His luck kept holding.
Brad wasn't worried about the headmaster turning down his request for time off to take his driver's test. It had always been a tradition at Wilmet High for everyone to get an afternoon off to take the test. So he walked boldly into the high school office.
One of Miss Lynn's business course students sat at the front receptionist desk to answer the phone and student's questions. Behind her was the office of Bouncer Sargant, the headmaster.
Kenneth 'Bouncer' Sargant had got his nickname from his reputation of bouncing trouble makers and delinquents off of the walls in his office. Whether he really did or not was always a point of dissension amongst the students. He didn't believe in corporal punishment as far as striking a student with his hand, fist or otherwise, but most of the students thought that he didn’t have any problem with slamming them against the wall next to his desk where the paint seemed to bear the proof of the legend.
"Brad, come on back here!" The ex-Army Major ordered before Brad got a chance to ask to see him. Now a Major in the Army National Guard, Bouncer had seen action in the European Theater and definitely was not a wimp.
"Here's your pass Brad, and good luck.
I didn't even have to ask for it. He had my pass ready.
Brad could not believe Bouncer had anticipated his request and was being so cheerful about his desire to get out of school early.
"I've watched you drive, Brad, you're a very good driver so you won't have any problem passing the test. Just relax and you’ll do fine.
"Is your mom going to pick you up here at school?"
"Yes, sir. She said she'd be across the street about two o'clock."
Brad realized when Bouncer stood up he was not really a huge and menacing monster. He was really a nice guy about 5'10" and 175 pounds and the hand he offered Brad was about the same size as his dad's and not any softer.
"Happy birthday, Brad."
He sure is being nice to me. He shook my hand. Damn.
Brad choked up when he tried to say "Thank you, Sir." He hurriedly turned away so the observant brown eyes wouldn't detect the tears which were threatening to run down his cheeks. Bouncer had been the only person all day to wish him a happy birthday and good luck on his driver's test.
The only person he had seen before he left the house for school this morning was his father, and he could not remember anytime in his life when his dad had said happy birthday or how do you feel and any of those other sentimental phrases people who love each other say. As usual his mother wasn't out of bed. She never got up before nine o'clock. So Brad had fixed his own breakfast and got himself ready for school just as he had been doing since the fifth grade. Even on his birthday.
I wonder where she is? It's 2:10.
Damn. I hope she didn't forget me.
Brad kept fretting as the low January sun sank deeper in the west. He and his parents had agreed he would take his driver's test early in the afternoon before the water on the roads would start freezing for the night. But if his mother didn't hurry, it would be after 3 o'clock before they got to Peterboro for his test.
The cool air was starting to bother Brad's hands which were slowly healing. So far he had only lost the nail on his left index finger and it was sensitize to the touch. His left thumb and second finger could not stand to be out in cool air at all. Gingerly he wrapped the end of his index finger in the palm of his left hand with his thumb curled over the tender skin left by the missing nail before slipping it into his coat pocket.
Damn! That hurts. Puts goose pimples on my teeth when it touches the cloth.
He shivered in reaction to the drag of the cloth and clenched his front teeth together.
There she is. About time. It's almost 15 after two.
"I tried to be on time, Brad. But your sister called from California. Her baby is due in March and she wants me to go to Torrance and stay with her. Edgar said he would send me the money to fly out."
He watched his mother out of the corner of his eye as he drove the old Chevie out of town and headed for the road up over the mountain.
"You're not going over Temple Mountain are you? You know I don't like that mountain road."
"We're late now. It's almost 15 minutes shorter to go over Temple Mountain so we can make up most of the time."
And knock off the baby talk.
He had noticed amongst other things, his mother had taken to sweet talking in a childish, almost a baby talk voice, about anything she didn't agree with or like.
"Well, be careful and don't drive too fast around those curv
es."
"Are you going to California?"
"I think so. Your dad and I will have to talk about it, but Greta is having a hard time and is pretty sick, so I think I should go as soon as I can.
"I made you a birthday cake. Are you sure you don't want someone over for supper?"
"Thanks."
Brad ignored the question about supper. They had talked about it one other time last week and he had declined the offer.
I don't want anybody around that long since you and dad always ended up arguing about some stupid thing. I know tonight or tomorrow night, but probably both nights, you're going to argue about going to California.
He kept his thoughts to himself and drove in silence for several minutes.
"Is your hand still sore? You keep taking it off of the steering wheel."
"It's alright. There just isn't any callus on it and it stings when I hold the wheel too tight."
So much you care. It's the first time you've asked about my hands since the day after Christmas. And you never even noticed that my foot was sore.
"How long will you stay out there? California.”
"I don't know. It will depend on how sick Greta is. I don't think more than a week or two after the baby is born."
"You'll be back by spring break if the baby is suppose to be born in March?"
"When is Easter vacation this year? Do you know?"
"It's the first full week of April. I think the sixth."
"Oh, I'll be home by then."
With his mind full of questions, Brad watched his mother out of the corner of his eye while she sat beside him looking out her side window.
She has changed since Greta got married and left and she's using another name all of a sudden.
"Why are you using Carolyn instead of Carrie? Isn't Carrie on your birth certificate?"
"Yes, it is. I'm tired of having a name that's like a hick's. I like the sound of Carolyn.
"I used Carolyn before I married your father and I want to go back to it."
"You used Carolyn when you were married to your first husband?"
She just nodded and turned back to the window and into herself.
Brad knew the discussion was over and he wouldn't get any more out of her. He had learned a long time ago the fastest way to end a discussion with his mother was to bring up her first husband, the father of his ten year older half brother.
"Are you going to take her out, Brad?" His best friend Andy was asking from the other end of the phone line.
Brad had called him right after he had come in from school and found his brand new driver's license in the mailbox. He wanted to share his achievement with someone who cared and since Brad was 6 months older than Andy they were talking about double dating now that Brad could drive.
"I'd like to, but I'm not sure if my dad will let me drive at night, especially in the winter. "You know how they are, Andy. Neither my mom or my dad want me to take her out so they will use the car as an excuse to stop me from going out."
"Do you think they'll let us double date if you take somebody else?"
"I suppose. Yeah, I think they will if we go from your house and your folks know where we are."
"Okay. Just don't tell them who you're taking. Or say something like, 'I'm going to ask Ann Marie Sullivan.' You and I know she won't go out with you, in fact you don't want to take her out. Then she turns you down and on the spur of the moment, since you have to have a date to double date, you ask Annie.
Simple, Brad? Of course."
“I'll do it, Andy. Tomorrow at school."
"Why not now, tonight."
"Too many ears around here. Besides it's too soon to ask her”.
"Stay over my house tomorrow night, we can do it then. That shouldn't be too soon, Thursday night, for a Saturday night date."
"Okay, I'll ask Ann Marie tomorrow morning before class and we can call Annie from your house tomorrow night."
"I was thinking more like you could walk her home from school, Brad."
"You're sure she's going to say yes, Andy. I'll do it as long as you're sure she's not going to turn me down."
"She’s not going turn you down, Brad. Take my word for it, I have it from the very best source that Annie wants to go out with you."
"Who?"
"I can't tell you that, you'll just have to take my word for it."
"You're taking Janice out aren't you? That's who told you, her best friend and your latest girl friend.
I'm right aren't I? Andy, answer me."
"You'll see Saturday night, Brad."
FIFTEEN
Brad slipped the new leather sling over his head so his .22 rifle hung upside down across his back with the stock behind his right ear. He was standing on the bank of Stoney Creek watching the mocha colored water racing down the rocky creek bed. He gave the rifle sling a last tug to settle the .22 on his shoulder before stepping off the bank and into the swirling knee deep water.
Within two steps, the fast running, ice cold water numbed his feet and legs. It tugged and grabbed at his legs almost upsetting him while he tried to balance himself on the water-rounded rocks littering the creek bed. Several careful short steps and he would be able to reach a birch sapling hanging over the stream. Brad stretched his arms out ahead of him, grabbed the sapling and swung himself up onto the bank.
He stomped the excess water out of his leather boots before starting up the hill through the big oaks and beeches growing between the rock faces and huge boulders that littered the mountain side.
I hate to leave Rusty by herself. It seems like she spends a lot of time in the house since Mom left in January for Greta's, but she would screw up my cat hunting by running up and down the hill.
A train of unwanted thoughts started running through Brad's mind.
I wonder when Mom will get back from California. She's been gone for about four months. She said she'd be back in time for spring break and that was over six weeks ago.
It doesn't seem right to me. Her staying out there and leaving Dad and me alone here. I guess she doesn't really care about us.
Brad looked up at the series of rock faces that extend six or seven hundred feet up the mountain above him. Each face was from fifty to almost one hundred feet high and he was going to climb each one in hopes of finding the bobcat several people said they saw crossing the road by Ballou's sawmill, and he was sure it was one of the cats he had seen in the ledges a year and a half ago.
One of the old-timers from Lynd said that years ago the she-cats would move into these ledges early in the spring to have their young and then spend the summer in the immediate vicinity raising their kittens.
Going uphill from Stoney Creek the hillside got rapidly steeper and the dark gray weathered granite boulders became more numerous and larger.
Brad slowed, almost stopping, before he slipped quietly between several car-sized boulders laying at the bottom edge of the lower face. Two more steps and he could see the gigantic pile of boulders at the foot of the face. He stopped, still breathing hard from the steep climb. He slipped the rifle sling over his head and off so the rifle was ready to use. He leaned his left shoulder against the nearest rock to break up his outline and to brace himself if he wanted to shoot.
That's where the little she-cat went two winters ago. Right under the rock with the big gob of quartz and mica on its face. If she crawled in there, and then went back towards the face her den must be under those big flat rocks over to the left.
When his breathing settled down and he could hear something besides himself grabbing huge mouthfuls of air, Brad eased himself further in between the huge stacked up boulders.
He stepped next to a bucket-sized rock and a shower of last fall's dried up oak leaves flew up around his knees. He jumped back and threw the .22 to his shoulder pointed down into the leaves!
Snake!? A timber rattler?
His heart raced up into his throat, but his hands were still
steady on the rifle.
I don't see or hear anything. I hate these rocks. If there are snakes anywhere around they'll be here.
Brad studied the leaves at his feet. Seeing nothing moving or suspicious, he slowly shifted his feet.
There it is!
He jammed the .22 towards the three foot long, brown speckled snake and thumbed the rifle's safety off when the snake twisted around and one end rose towards him. As Brad pivoted towards it the snake disappeared into the leaves as quick as it had appeared.
His heart sped up to emergency and his breathing stopped. Still not breathing, his eyes probed the pile of oak leaves where he last saw the snake.
Move back. Get out of here. It's hiding under those leaves.
Brad set his right foot back behind him and started to shift his weight onto it.
It rose up out of the leaves, one end was under his left foot, the snake's other end twisted towards Brad's exposed left shin. His right foot came forward and he kicked as hard as he could and the brownish-gray oak branch snapped in two and flew apart.
God damn limb. It could have been a snake. Everyone says there are rattlers around here.
For twenty more minutes Brad poked and searched around the largest of the rock falls on this side of the mountain before he worked his way across to its far end.
If I go up around this end I can climbed the hill at the north end of the face instead of climbing the rock face itself. Then I can come out just below the upper ledge. I want to look at the hole up there where I found the big cat track last winter.
He slipped his left arm back through the sling on his .22 and with it again hanging muzzle down across his back Brad started climbing the steep hillside. Carefully one step, one hand hold at a time he climbed parallel to the outside edge of the vertical rock face. He stopped every few feet to carefully turn his back to the slope and look back and down to where he had just come from.