My Time By the River

Chapter Four "The Box"

"I think I've gotten used to the titles bein' just below the chapter number now and that might just stick through the rest of the story. I figured nobody would mind anyways. The letters are big because, me in my old age, I can't see nothin' without it bein' this close to my face and I needed to write everythin' down exactly as I remembered it. This part of the story, however... I always find this part to be hauntin' because of the box. It always floated around in my mind like a dream, and, like a treasure, I should'a left burried because of what was inside it. Maybe it wasn't what was inside it, but who was lookin' for it. Either way, the thought of it reminds me of several funerals and the mass amount of children I had to bury that year. Maybe Dally's spirit will comfort me now as I tell you the story about the day I sealed his fate."

-Peter R. Connors

The mornin' came rudely with a swift paddlin' by Miss May. She ain't even let me get outta bed b'fore the board hit my backside. Pain shook me violently as I felt my behind fill with all the colors of red in my body. I figured she knew 'bout the gal given, this time, I felt she was paddlin' extra hard. Still, I ain't said nothin'. It's better to keep quiet if nothin' was said.

"Boy," she yelled, "don't you know you suppose't to be in here by nine? Haven't I told you about your curfew? You suppose't to be inside this building by the time that sun sets." Her voice shook my tremblin' body even more than the paddlin'. The board stopped hittin' my rear and it took all my strength to stand up. "You and Barry near had me in the grave last night. I was worried sick!" I think she got about fifteen good licks in and I was worn b'fore the day started. I don't remember sittin' down that much that day.

"I'm sorry, Miss May," I said while hidin' a thought in my head.

"You sure are! You and Barry! Always causing one of my blonde hairs to turn gray. Y'all both about to leave this orphanage in one-to-two years and become respectable citizens of this town and ya'll both ain't stop your shenanigans. I still have to beat ya'll like you're five years old." I was tryin' to take the conversation seriously 'til I saw a gal with long dark-brown hair, a long-torn shirt, and bandages coverin' her arm walk past the door-frame and into the common room. Ain't no way Miss May thought we brought her there since she hadn't mentioned her. I looked back to Miss May who continued to ramble on about her findin' this lost gal outside on the porch last night and bringin' her in with cuts and bruises and how much time she would have to spend at the sheriff's office this afternoon to discuss the matter.

"Ain't that much funding being provided from the townsfolk to continue running this orphanage properly, Peter." she said. "The town's suffering as is due to last year's field scarring. People ain't got the money no more and I'm in between a rock and a hard place. The last thing I need is for ya'll to go mess up the town, go missing, or worse. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am," I said. Now, everyone knew the town was poor, but nobody liked to talk about it. The field stretched around the town and shielded our economy. Our town survived on land and farmers and we ain't had nothin' to replace 'em. Zach Butcher won a good portion of it in the farmers' lottery three years ago and he chose his pick with the river off the far corner while predictin' a time like this. With the preacher yellin' prosperity out to the crowd sayin' sumthin' like "Rain's a-comin'!" ain't nobody liked to tarnish the hope that the drought would end. The heat was so powerful that year, it even caused the river to pull back from the rocks and the forest ain't extended past two miles on Mr. Butcher's property. The townsfolk always blamed us at the home for the fire the previous year, but I can tell you, it wasn't us. No matter how you told it and who you told it to, nobody believed us and they kept bringin' up our past transgressions.