Summertime June

Part 2: The Swimming Hole and Old Church Road

Old Church Road had a history. Long before my time, people in town would say that if you listened closely on a moonless night, you could hear the cries of wounded soldiers, left to die after one of the major battles of the Civil War. That is if you believe in that kind of thing. I never did until I met June. I didn't dare venture there by myself, because mother and father have strictly forbidden it for their own reasons. Old Church Road had also been used during prohibition, as a route for transporting illegal corn liquor, and Father's brother, my Uncle Tommy, had been found with a warehouse full of the stuff. The trial was the talk of the town for quite a few years after it actually occurred, and it was only my father's use of a trusted attorney that saved Uncle Tommy from serving time in state prison. They say my grandfather died from the shame of it, although the doctors insist it was the cigars that killed him. Regardless, none of those daunting thoughts, whether real or just made up, could keep me from going down to Old Church Road on the day that June turned fifteen.

It was early September, and we were having what old folks would call an "Indian Summer". I just called it plain hot and uncomfortable. I hated the way that my cotton dress stuck to my skin, and the outside air felt suffocating when I breathed it into my lungs. June didn't seem to notice. She took it all in her stride, her loose-fitting shift dress being much more practical for the current climate. She had been cajoling me into going on this adventure with her all morning, striking down each of my complaints with the promise of a rumored swimming hole. In that kind of heat, I would have gladly gone almost anywhere for the chance of a leisurely swim in fresh cold water. I didn't dare risk changing my clothes before we left my house that afternoon, or else June's mother would have known that we were up to no good. June may be allowed to roam the house and grounds in nothing but a shift dress, but I, Ava, was most certainly not. I was expected to keep prim and proper at all times (excepting the ribbons in my hair, because on that, I refused). At around 12:30 sharp, after enjoying a simple lunch of bread and cheese, June and I had departed the house by the simple convenience of climbing out of the first story window that was located in the kitchen towards the back of the house. If I recall correctly, we seemed to think at the time that there would be less chance of being discovered if we left through the back of the house. Neither of us knew then that we hadn't escaped the house unnoticed.

It was a long walk from my parents' home in the center of our property to the entrance onto Old Church Road at the very edge. If I had to guess, I would say it was about 5 miles. We weren't bothered, we were young and healthy, and the walk gave us time away from our lessons and out from under her mother's watchful eye. We had just reached the edge of Old Church Road when June stopped dead in her tracks.

"Ava, do you hear that? It sounds like someone is crying." Her brow creased with worry.

I stopped walking and began to listen carefully to the woods surrounding us. I could hear the trees moving from the slight September breeze, I could hear birds singing to each other back and forth across the treetops. I could even hear the far-off knocking sound of a woodpecker intently hammering on some log in the distance, but I could not hear the crying sound she seemed to hear.

"It's probably just the wind, June. Or some type of bird." I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly.

June shook her head vehemently. "No, Ava. I heard someone crying."

The emphasis she put on 'heard' made the little hairs on the back of my arms stand straight on end. June could hear things that other people didn't seem to pick up on. I wouldn't go as far as saying that she was clairvoyant, because I never believed in that. She was just sensitive. Our cook, Mamie, called June's hearings premonitions, I just pretended for the most part that they didn't exist.

I walked over to June and put my hand into hers. "Do you want to go home?"

June paused for a moment and seemed to breathe in the air around us like she was searching for the source of the sound she had heard. After a time, her shoulders relaxed and her eyes lost that worried look that she always got when she heard things. She smiled then like the sun had come out on a rainy day.