THREE
The Pond

SCHOOL GOT OUT AT 3:20 P.M. THAT FRIDAY AFTER-noon.At least a couple dozen boys were going to the pond, something they did every Friday until winter arrived. Situated a mile south of Main Street, the pond was surrounded on three sides by mature cornstalks and on the fourth by two cottonwood trees reaching at least eighty feet tall. The trees were great for climbing and gave incredible shade. The cornfields were maturing on this hot day in mid-September, with the harvest just getting started.

The year was 1959. There was a lot going on in the world at the time. Jet airliners were taking people across the ocean. NASA had just launched the first monkey into space, a squirrel monkey named Baker. The motion picture Ben Hur was being shown in 70mm Panavision in big cities, and some folks in Cairo made the two-and-a-half-hour drive to St. Louis and paid the princely sum of $1 per ticket to see the blockbuster film.

Mostly, none of that city slicker stuff mattered much in Cairo. Everything in this farming town of 250 revolved around corn, the feed-and-seed store, Sunday church, and the Cairo Diner. Cairo was quiet, sleepy, and safe. Crime was nearly nonexistent. Occasionally you’d hear that Jimmy Bly was caught stealing penny gum from the Five & Dime, but that was about it. The rumor was that Jimmy didn’t even like gum. He kiped gum to create a little adventure in his life.

Leather-skinned farmers with denim overalls and dirt-streaked white T-shirts hung around the diner in the late afternoon, enjoying a cup of coffee and the latest gossip. The conversation usually hinged around how the corn yield was looking, what the weatherman on KMOX radio was predicting, or how well the cows were producing. Every now and then they’d talk about their tractor breakdowns too.

Throughout the summer, the pond was the place to be for swimming races, mud wrestling matches, and lots and lots of fishing.

To get there, some boys would walk. Others would ride their bikes. Some of the boys would get dropped off by their moms and walk home at dinnertime. There was six-year-old “Little Will” Rambling. He was small but scrappy. A freckled redhead full of piss and vinegar, he picked fights with the older ones just to see if he could whip them.

James Roy Holly was the ten-year-old expert fisherman. He was quiet and kind and averse to getting into wrestling matches. Everybody watched how he fished because he always caught the most.

Of course, Jimmy Bly was one of the leaders. He was older and outspoken—and quite the storyteller. He didn’t have book smarts, but he knew the way of the world. Or so he thought. He would make up games for everyone to play. Legend had it that twelve-year-old Jimmy once kissed a girl behind the abandoned barn on the edge of town.

J.J. Hopper named himself General J.J. He was the clown of the bunch. Well over five feet tall and every bit of 200 pounds, J.J.’s cheeks were always pushed out like a giant chipmunk from pieces of hard candy in his mouth. He would take on two or three boys in the wrestling matches, but his outclassed and underweight opponents always ended up crying for mercy. Everybody loved General J.J.

The pond was what all the boys looked forward to—a place where they were in charge. There were no girls to worry about and no parents to tell them to do chores. For a few hours every Friday, they were a part of a tribe and members of a brotherhood.

Maggie saw Gabriel coming out of school, swinging his lunch pail and skipping his feet. With his head up and a smile on his face, he looked like he’d had a better day. Wearing his favorite black canvas sneakers with the white toe, old denims from the Five & Dime, and his favorite John Deere tractor T-shirt that Mister Earl gave him, Gabriel sprinted toward his mom’s truck.

“Hey, sweetie!” Maggie said. “You had a good day?”

Snapping the door handle three times to get it to open, Gabriel replied, “Mom—Mrs. Chesley let me show the class my marble collection today. They really liked them.”

“Way to go, buddy!” She manhandled the column shifter into first gear, let out the stiff clutch, and they chugged away from school. “I brought you an old shirt to wear to the pond. You hungry? Here’s a peanut butter sandwich too.” Maggie hoped this might be the day that ended the hard days.

“Maybe we could just go home. I’m kinda tired.”

His countenance had changed. Maggie restrained her first reaction, which was to pressure him or convince him that everything would be okay. Learning from her past attempts, she knew that any reaction from her would drive Gabriel deeper into his fear and insecurity. She stayed quiet.

Gabriel broke the silence. “They said they were doing swimming races, but I don’t want to do that.”

“Maybe you could show them how to play marbles,” Maggie offered. “You could be the first young man to hold marble tournaments at the pond.”

Gabriel looked over and smiled a bit. “You think so?”

“Sure I do. I’ll come back later and check on you. Plus, Jimmy will be there. You like Jimmy’s stories, don’t you?” Gabriel took a deep breath and nodded. Jimmy was always nice to him and was the closest thing he had to a friend. As they arrived at the edge of town, Maggie turned down the old dirt road that would take them to the pond. She couldn’t see it because of the high cornstalks, but there was no mistaking the towering cottonwood trees.

As they pulled off the road, she heard the high-pitched voices of boys who had already arrived. They were yelling and laughing. Gabriel had finished eating half of his peanut butter sandwich, and he started to open the door.

“Hang on, baby. Look here.” Maggie licked her thumb and began to wipe off the peanut butter from around his mouth. “Don’t forget your marbles.”

Gabriel reached into his school bag and pulled out a large mason jar of his favorite marbles. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Mom.”

“Okay, baby. Be careful.”

Gabriel got out of the truck and walked down the path between the cornstalks. Just before he was out of sight, Maggie shouted, “Have fun, Gabe!”

In her heart she was thrilled that he would be playing with other boys, but she was also worried sick. She watched her son every step of the way until he disappeared behind the cornstalks.

As Gabriel got closer to the pond, he nervously ducked into the cornstalks and peered through them to watch the boys. A few were climbing the lower limbs of the largest cottonwood, and two boys were swimming and splashing each other.

James Roy Holly and a fishing buddy had brought their sugar cane poles and were baiting their hooks. General J.J. was having trouble with his bike—his chain appeared to be off. He kept kicking the bike and swearing.

Gabriel knew he was on the outside of the tribe. He wasn’t sure how he could belong. He heard the voices of several boys approaching. He ducked down inside the thicket of cornstalks, hoping they wouldn’t see him.

They saw him anyway.

“Gabriel, is that you in there?” The voice belonged to Dickie Colter, an eight-year-old know-it-all who constantly ran his mouth.

“Hey, guys, look! Gabriel is hiding in the corn! You scared or somethin’? You tryin’ to spy on us? I think we should get him, guys!”

Gabriel froze, terrified of what might happen.

“Shut up, Dickie,” a husky voice said matter-of-factly. It was Jimmy Bly. “Come on out, man. He’s just full of hot air. We’re gonna have some fun today!”

Jimmy motioned to him to follow—and that’s all it took. Instantly, Gabriel was in the tribe. His fear subsided, and he felt a surge of courage.

He stumbled out of the cornstalks with his jar of marbles and fell in behind five other boys following the great Jimmy Bly.

When they arrived at the pond, Jimmy shouted, “Everybody gather ’round! We’ve got a special event today. We’re having a root beer tournament!”

He reached into his denim overalls pocket and pulled out two fistfuls of barrel-shaped root beer candies and placed them on top of a tree stump. “Yeah, baby! Woo-hoo! General J.J. can’t play! He always wins!”

Shouts and cheers rose up from all members of the tribe. Most boys couldn’t afford treats like root beer barrels very often. The fact that this candy was probably stolen made the game that much more exciting.

The tribe gathered around to listen to Jimmy’s instructions. “Okay, everyone. It’s mud wrestling day.”

All the boys cheered. “General J.J. will referee since he killed everyone last time. J.J., here’s a couple of root beers for you as payment for your services.” Jimmy tossed the bite-sized candies to him. General J.J. smiled and immediately unwrapped both pieces, shoving the candies into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in months.

The boys discussed who would wrestle whom. James Roy Holly and the other fisherman put their poles down and came running. Gabriel enjoyed the banter, but he certainly didn’t want to wrestle, not on the muddy shore. The small lake had receded a bit due to a dry spell in Cairo. What was left was dark, moist mud—perfect for wrestling.

Jimmy drew a big circle in the mud with a diameter that ran about fifteen paces across. The boys, naturally, gathered around for the first match.

Two of the smaller boys, Henry and Jamie, had climbed one of the cottonwoods for a bird’s-eye view of the action. At six years of age, they weren’t ready for the big wrestling matches, but they loved being around the bigger boys.

Gabriel wanted to avoid wrestling, so he set his jar of marbles in a dense mulberry bush next to one of the cottonwood trees—he didn’t want anyone stealing his most prized possession. Then he hopped up on the first branch.

“General J.J., would you please introduce our first contestants,” Jimmy shouted, using his best announcer voice.

General J.J. held his right arm up to get everyone’s attention. “Today’s first match will be. . .” He paused for effect. “Little Will versus Dickie Colter!”

Everybody cheered—this would be a great tussle. Little Will was the feistiest six-year-old around, and Dickie Colter was the mouthy mean kid. Each had something to prove, the makings of a perfect pond battle.

Gabriel was so excited to be there that he couldn’t stop giggling. He looked up and saw Henry and Jamie on branches at least twenty feet above the ground. Gabriel was scared to climb up that high, but he thought if first-graders could do it, then he could too.

As the boys were getting ready to begin the match, Gabriel started to climb up higher. He walked his legs up the trunk, telling himself not to look down. Once he reached the level of Henry and Jamie, though, he looked down and immediately became paralyzed with fear. A fall from this height would not be good.

Gabriel came to rest between the massive trunk and the branch the boys were sitting on. They motioned to him to come on out, but he looked down again. The branch hung over the water, which frightened Gabriel even more.

“Gabriel! Let me know when you’re ready,” yelled Jimmy. “You’ll be the scorekeeper, okay?”

Gabriel didn’t respond as he clutched the broad branch with everything he had. He lay on his stomach and tried to shimmy out like a snake. As he was inching his way toward the boys, he became more and more afraid. His palms grew sweaty, and he began to visualize what might happen if he fell into the pond.

Gabriel had learned to swim as a little boy, but he hadn’t been in the water since his father drowned and was terrified of it. Down below, the boys were cheering and having a great time as the combatants in the first match squared off.

Gabriel reached out to brace himself on a small twig. As he tried to pull himself closer to the boys, he placed his right foot on a small branch for leverage. The twig snapped, causing Gabriel to lose his balance. In the blink of an eye, Gabriel found himself dangling from the branch, holding on for dear life with just his hands—a good twenty feet in the air.

“Help. . . help!” Gabriel cried out.

All the boys on the ground saw what was happening. General J.J. yelled, “Just drop into the water, man!”

Dickie taunted him. “What are you scared of, Gabriel? You sound like my little sister!”

Jimmy called out, “Hang on, Gabriel. I’m coming.” He rushed over to the tree and began scaling it.

Gabriel screamed, “I can’t hang on much longer!”

Six-year-old Henry, who was sitting on the same branch just a few feet away, made his way toward Gabriel by scooting on his seat, inch by inch. He was reaching for Gabriel’s hand when the unthinkable happened. Henry lost his balance and fell like a rag doll, bouncing off another branch and splashing into the pond. It all happened so fast.

Gabriel, momentarily distracted, lost his grip and fell into the pond right after him. In a panic, he flailed his arms in an effort to stay above the water.

The boys responded immediately. General J.J. and Jimmy dove into the pond to fish the boys out. J.J. was strong enough to pull Gabriel to the shore.

Gabriel, who had ingested water, was coughing and hacking—and crying uncontrollably.

“Where’s Henry?” yelled one of the boys in the midst of the pandemonium.

“I haven’t found him!” Jimmy yelled.

Several more boys ran into the pond to join the search in the dark water. Jimmy dove down again, but this time he was successful. He cradled Henry, who was coughing and spitting up water. Jimmy pulled him onto the bank, where the other boys gathered around to see if their friend was all right.

The boys were shell-shocked at the turn of events. Through his tears, Gabriel said, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to watch.” He continued to gasp for air so that he could control his crying.

“Are you an idiot?” Dickie asked. “You almost killed him! Why are you even here?” As Dickie turned and started walking away, he mumbled to J.J., “That kid is worthless.”

“Shut up, Dickie!” General J.J. growled at him. He turned to Gabriel and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. It wasn’t your fault.”

Gabriel knew otherwise. Henry had almost died trying to help him, and Gabriel was filled with shame.

His first real effort to conquer his fear and connect with the boys of Cairo was a disaster. They wouldn’t be seeing him again at the pond. It was safer to stick close to home— in his secret place.

There was no way he could take a chance on hurting anyone else. He was angry at the water. He was angry with himself.

Better, though, to keep everything to himself.

Risk was not an option anymore.