Nickajack Creek

Nickajack Creek

I thought Mom would burst with excitement when the invitation came. The Andrews were throwing a party for Lynne’s tenth birthday. Mom worshipped the Andrews. “They live by Nickajack Creek,” Mom said, as if moving from the city somehow made them better than us. Lynne’s mom was a former model, and her dad was an airline pilot, and as far as Mom was concerned, that made Lynne a “good influence.”

Though Lynne was best friends with my sister, Paula, she had invited my older brother Mark and me to the party. Mom said it was because they were so “classy,” but I knew better, she just wanted more presents. So early on a balmy Saturday morning Mom packed us in the car with one small birthday present and we set off on the long trek out to the suburbs. An early autumn thunderstorm was slowly rolling in, giving the air a steely gray tint.

The party was in full swing when we got there. There were picnic tables on the lawn draped with white tablecloths. Most of the kids there were Lynne’s new friends from her new school and I could feel their eyes on me as I got out of the car. I knew how this deal worked. After ten years of Mom’s admonitions to hide the dire poverty she thought we lived in, I was well aware of my social inferiority. Trying to be invisible, I ducked my head and made my way across the lawn to watch Lynne and her friends playing croquet and badminton. I had to admit the Andrews sure could throw a party. No cheesy pin the tail on the donkey or piñatas here.

After lunch we all had cake and Lynne opened her presents, which took simply forever. After that, parents begin showing up to collect their kids. The afternoon was wearing on and the storm clouds were rolling in, the air left a metallic taste in my mouth. Ms. Andrews suggested that Lynne and her older brother, William, take us out and show us the new neighborhood while we waited around for Mom.

“William, you keep an eye on them.” Ms. Andrews shouted as we ran out the door. “And stay out of Nickajack Creek.”

The Andrews’ house sat majestically atop a large hill, and their front yard was so big that we could neither be heard nor seen from the street. William, in his infinite wisdom (he was 13 after all), came up with the brilliant idea of throwing rocks at cars. “Don’t worry, we won’t hit them,” he said. “We’ll just scare them a little bit. I’ll go first.”

Since the street was basically gravel, it took no time at all to shore up a supply of rocks. Stealthily, we arranged ourselves in the ditch, lying on our bellies, and waited for the sound of an oncoming car. Eventually we heard the sound of our prey and blue Valiant came around the curve. As soon as the car was alongside us, William stood up and screamed like a banshee. He threw his rock high, and it sailed over the car. The startled driver shot us mean look as he swerved uncontrollably. William and Lynne thought this was pretty funny. Laughing and guffawing, they announced that I had the next one, since I was the youngest.

We all got back in our positions and lay in wait for the next car. My stomach was tied up in a thousand knots and even though I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, I had a feeling this was a bad idea. But I was tired of being the “baby,” so I picked up the biggest rock I could get my hands around. When I heard a car coming up the road, I took a deep breath, and balanced the rock in my hand. Rearing back just as a large black Lincoln rounded the curve, I let fly. Still holding my breath, I watched that rock as it sailed up in the air, hung for a moment, and began its descent. Of course, it hit that car dead on, landing right on the hood.

The Lincoln screeched to a halt, and through the windshield I saw the driver. His mouth was wide open and his face was twisted like a wet washcloth. The door opened, and the biggest man I had ever seen worked his way out of the car. He was wearing a pair of denim overalls that stretched over his huge belly. His bald head and round face were covered with sweat.

We lay as flat as we could in the ditch, as the man got out and started looking around. We could hear his feet crunching heavily on the gravel road, getting closer and closer. I was face down in the ditch trying to disappear into the ground, when I heard his breath, slow and heavy, coming closer and closer.

Suddenly William yelled, “Make a run for it!”

We all jumped up from our hiding places and scattered like autumn leaves before a rain. But I was too slow and I felt a giant hand grab the back of my shirt. I twisted around, trying to get out of his grip, but he had me good. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would pop out of my chest, and I knew I was a goner. I could smell stale cigarette smoke on his breath as he leaned down and hissed in my ear, “Be still and quit yer squirming.”

Just then, a bolt of lightning split the sky, followed instantly by the loud ka-boom of close thunder. The big man was so startled he jumped back, letting go of my shirt. I took my chance, running across the street and into the woods as fast my chubby little legs would go. Rain pelted my face and I had no idea where I was going, but I kept on running, too scared to even think.

Finally, I burst through into clearing and ran right into the rest of the kids. They were all sitting on the ground, trying to catch their breath and I plopped down beside them. The sudden downpour had stopped as quickly as it had started, leaving the air pregnant with the promise of another one. Lynne was laughing so hard, tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she said, “I can’t believe you actually hit that car.”

“Yaw’ll told me to.” I whined.

“We didn’t tell you to hit it.” said William.

“Oh, man, you are going to be in so much trouble when Mom finds out.” Paula said.

“IF Mom finds out,” Mark said. “I sure ain’t telling, and neither is anybody else. Right?” He looked long and hard at Lynne and William until they promised to keep our secret.

“Hey, where are we?” I asked. “Are we lost?”

“No silly,” said Lynne. “We ain’t lost, the creek’s right over there. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“We should head back,” Paula said. “Mom’s probably there by now. She’ll be mad if she has to wait.”

Mark stood up, dusting the dirt from his jeans. “Too bad, she can just be mad. I want to see Nickajack Creek.”

“We’re gonna get in trouble,” Paula said. “Ms. Andrews told us not to go to the creek.”

“Who cares?” said Lynne.

We all got up and followed Lynne through the woods. I trailed behind, still feeling a little weak and shaky. Eventually the trees opened up and I saw the rest of the gang standing on the bank of the creek. Paula and Mark looked confused, and when I got closer I saw why. We had been expecting a real creek with rocks and waterfalls, like the ones we played in at Uncle Don’s house up in Tennessee. But what we were looking at was a concrete ditch, with a trickle of slimy green, foul smelling water. It looked more like the sewer that ran under our street back home.

“That’s Nickajack Creek?” Paula put her hands on her hips and looked at Lynne in disbelief. “I can’t believe that’s Nickajack Creek. No wonder your mom warned us to stay out of the creek, it’s just nasty sewer water.”

We hung around the creek for a little longer and everyone else seemed to forget about throwing rocks and getting chased. But I didn’t. I still had a knot in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t get the sight of that man’s face out of my mind. I dreaded going back to Lynne’s house. What if Mom already knew? What if the big man recognized Lynne or William and knew where they lived? What if he had called the police?

It was almost dark when we got back to Lynne’s house and mom’s car was sitting in the driveway. I was so scared, it was all I could do to keep from throwing up. I figured at the very least, we were all in trouble for being out so long. But when we walked in the house, I had a real surprise. Not only was mom not mad, she and Lynne’s mom were in the kitchen together, making spaghetti. Mom seemed to be having a good time, laughing and joking with Lynne’s mom while they cooked. So we got to hang out in Lynne’s basement, playing board games and listening to the rain until dinner was ready. After dinner Mom and Mrs. Andrews sat in the kitchen talking while we watched The Green Hornet with Mr. Andrews.

Both Mark and Paula fell asleep on the long ride home, and mom quietly hummed along with the radio. But I couldn’t sleep at all, not even when we got home. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see that man’s face, twisted with fear. I could still smell his cigarette breath and hear his raspy voice hissing in my ear. I tossed and turned all night with a sick feeling in my stomach. All I wanted to do was curl up in mom’s lap and hear her tell me that everything was going to be all right.

I never did tell mom or anybody else about that day. But I still have nightmares about it, and I’ll never forget the look on that man’s face when my rock hit his car.