Old Enough; Endless Summer ~ part IX of series

Clara watched as her Aunt Pearl's taxicab pulled away from the curb and although she acted as if she was annoyed by her cousin Jolly being left home with her for the day, deep down she knew he might be needed. Truth is her bark is worse than her bite as they say. Clara remembers whispering to May, her best and only freckled faced white friend, "I ain't never bit nobody although I could give Jolly a good pinch now and then to calm his jumping bean bee-hind down."

Now she knew she was taking a risk letting Jolly into her and May's secret plans was a big to-do. How was she ever gonna trust his big ole mouth from blabbing away about her breaking the biggest rule ever: that being, never-ever-whatsoever go wandering down to Yonderville where white people dwelled. And second to that, never-ever-whatsoever hang around the train tracks.

She eyed Jolly up and down as he sat all bouncy-bouncy on the old brown sofa where their ancient great-great, aka Smacky Lips, usually slept. Today Jolly's momma had taken her, along with his little sister Bertie to the hospital for some tests. With Aunt Pearl off to May's house for the day this would be her one and only shot at seeing her best friend with no grown ups eyeing their every move; no way in tarnation was Jolly gonna steal this from them with his big puffy balled head full of nonsense. Thinking seriously to herself, "I have yet to hear one word from Jolly's mouth that didn't have something too do with fartin', poopin' or burpin'. How could he be useful to me?" She had to think fast.

She had one piece of knowledge that could help her out, that being Jolly had a crush on May. With her hands on her hips she demanded in her bossiest tone, "Jolly, sit still and listen up! I'm in charge of you today so this is how things are gonna be. One, no stupid questions. Two, we have a mission to complete and if you can keep a secret you can see May with me."

Jolly's eight ball sized eyes almost popped out of his head when he heard May's name. Laughing inside, "Yes, I snagged him!"

Jolly swirled around on his tippy- toes, "Is she coming over without a grown-up?" He was salivating like a hungry street dog. His bouncing had made another spring break through the already decrepit dang sofa which now poked downwards scraping the floor planks.

"Not ex-ACT-ah-lee", Clara started to feel nervous myself and sat down next to him. "We're gonna meet her half-way to Yonderville!" She tried sounding all upbeat, adventurous, playing to his silly side. He made a scrunched up face, puckered up his lips and tilted his head to one side. "Your choice Jolly, you can stay here bouncing on Smacky Lips sofa until it breaks altogether and get in trouble on your own or go with me." She stood and headed for the kitchen where she'd packed an old sack with apples and peanuts in the shell.

Jolly followed right behind her heels just as she thought he would. "We ain't post ta go to Yonderville, evah! Why they got nooses, tar, rifles and all kinds of thangs to take us off the map! I heard men talking 'bout Ku Klux Klan, you think I'm crazy? I might be goofy in the head but I got more sense than you cousin. You are out of your cotten-pickin' mind now. Naw, naw, naw this ain't happenin'." Jolly was shaking all over and Clara handed him a big glass of water.

"Fine. You stay here. If I am NOT back by supper tell Aunt Pearl and your Momma I went looking for copper pennies to buy us some bubble-gum. Or, shrug your shoulders and say I went to play 'Crazy black girl down by the train tracks', alrighty then?" Clara grabbed her sack and started toward the side door closest to the brambled edge of the woods.

"Wait! Cousin, you can't go alone! I'm a comin'. If we git killed, it's your fault now, hear?" Jolly followed her through the poke weed, down the path to the creek and together they held hands and hopped over to the beginnings of the other world. The world where trains chugged by in both directions to places far, far away. The trains that carried the likes of Hobo Hank or faces from "Wanted!" posters pinned to wooden telephone poles. Clara handed him an apple and he crunched on it like a dumb ole donkey.

They hadn't gone more than thirty minutes down the tracks gravelled edge when they spotted a scrawny old white man sitting on his haunches drinking from a brown bottle. He looked at them approaching and didn't flinch: wild guess? He'd probably seen coloured kids before and was well baked by the sun and cared more about his drink than the likes of Claa and Jolly. He looked them up and down as they passed and swiftly put a dirty, rough looking hand out with a grunting sound, reaching into her sack Clara grabbed a hand full of peanuts and tossed them to him. He shot her a toothless smile which gave her a sign that maybe, just maybe, God was watching over them like little black lambs wandering out of their own pasture. She held onto that thought real tight as they walked toward her fierce vision of seeing her very best, super best friend in the whole wide worlds, funny little freckled face, once again.

Jolly walked ahead of her with both feet on one rail like a tightrope performance at the circus, he didn’t seem to get how scary this whole adventure was for Clara and she was sure as heck not going to tell him.

On the other side of the invisible line that no one dared to cross Hank began to get weary begging May to slow down, just as she turned around to face him he collapsed into a heap in a patch of wild weeds and closed his eyes.

“Hank! Can you hear me?” May dropped to her knees and patted him on the cheeks. Nothing. She bent over and listened for his breath and wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. “Hank! Wake up! Oh, dear Lord, help me. Help!”. She screamed and pushed him hoping he’d wake up. Hank did not move. Her scream was a mix of terror, of a responsibility she’d never known and she had no one who could hear her. At least not yet ~

*Click Here to read the earlier portion of this ongoing series!