Thursday, July 22, 2021

Mystery at the Swiming Hole pg 12-17

Now we were behind the fence and the dogs were outside. At least we outsmarted them. Outlucked them would be more accurate. We walked up the hill toward the house giving John a hard time with each step we took. Someone in our group was always getting razzed. This was John’s turn and for good reason.

As we approached the house we saw the divers’ car parked in the driveway.

Mike went around back and peered into the kitchen window while John and Frank searched the car. I found a cup and turned the open side to the door so I could listen to the conversation between the divers and Wilkie. I didn’t hear every word, but enough to know something crooked was up. They mentioned dog fighting, a cave, and big money.

I told the guys about what I heard and we decided we had to check out the cave. It was getting late, so it would have to wait until tomorrow. In a small town kept secrets are rare. Everyone knew about the caves on Wilkie’s property, but no one gave it a second thought because they weren’t unusual around here. Frank had been through many caves looking for quartz, even the one at Wilkie’s, but that’s been a few years ago. 

We hiked back to the gate being careful to stay out of sight. At least we didn’t have to worry about the dogs until we left the grounds. Well, that’s what we thought. We would soon find out the dogs came back onto the property through the one-way dog door in the fence. Apparently, this wasn’t the first time they had escaped. 

Mike the first to see them, pointed up the hill, as they ran toward us. “The dogs are back.”

We all took off running. John leading the retreat to the gate, swung the guitar door open and jumped through, then helped the rest of us in our escape. I was the smallest, slowest and last. The dogs were nipped at my heels. No joke, they actually grabbed my shoe and pulled it off as I dove through the opening. John slammed and latched the door. We were safe until tomorrow, but we needed a better plan. 

Mike and Frank laughed hysterically at my predicament calling me shoeless Kevin. This is how it worked John was now off the hook even though his underwear was the only clothing covering his skinny butt. I wasn’t worried. Someone else would soon pull a boner and I’d be clear.

We headed back home, tired, dirty, and two of us missing parts of our clothing. Coming up with a good story for Mom would be a challenge. She's heard it all.


* * *

 

The next morning we met at the usual spot, on the diving rock at the quarry. The plan was to go caving today, but we needed a plan to deal with the dogs. Frank arrived last and without a pie.

Mike spread his arms and shrugged his shoulders, looking at Frank. “Did you forget something?” 

“No, what was I supposed to bring?”

“It starts with the letter P and ends with YUMMY.”

Frank laughed. Sometimes Mike’s comments were funny. “You didn’t earn a pie, besides there’s a piece still stuck to your face from yesterday.”

“Ha, Ha.” Mike rubbed his face.

 I tried to redirect the conversation. “Can we talk about what we’re going to do?”

Mike stood up reached in his back pocket and pulled out a slingshot. “Whata ya think? Proudly displaying a perfect Y-shaped ash slingshot. “I made it myself.” 

“Great job, but what are you going to do with it?” Frank asked. 

Mike reached in his shirt and pulled out a bag. “Dog treats. I’m going to shoot dog treats at them.”

I hesitated then shrugged my shoulders, “Anybody else got an idea?” No one answered. “Anybody? . . . Anybody? . . . Okay, slingshot dog treats it is.”

We started walking up the hill to the star’s mansion.

I punched John’s shoulder. “What did you tell your mom about the pants?”

John smiled. “I told her the new librarian, Miss Hot Pants, chased me around the bookshelf and I ripped them on a file cabinet.”

“Oh! That’s believable.” I shook my head. “In your dreams.”

“Yeah, Mom didn’t fall for it either,” John said. “She told me make up another story without the word library in it.”

“And?”

“I told her I tore it on a barbed wire fence when I climbed over to chase a cow.” John shrugged. “That she believed.”

“You’re good. . . Nobody was home at my house, so I threw my shoe in the trash and took a pair of my brother’s.”

John shot me a thumbs up. “Cool!”

We walked up the road to the mansion past the big iron gates. Frank knew a way to get in which was closer to the cave. It was a good distance from the main house, so maybe the dogs wouldn’t see us. We came to a large tree next to the barbed wire fence. 

Frank folded his arms and said with pride. “See, all we need to do is climb the tree, shimmy across the branch that hangs over the fence, then drop to the ground.”

“That’s great,” I scratched my head. “But how do we get back out?”

Frank peeked through the fence. “Hmm, I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“But the fence has barbed wire on it.” John pointed up. “What if I rip my pants again?”

Mike put his hand on his knees. “If you’re worried about that, just take them off.”

“Yeah, real funny Mike.” 

I ignored them and started to climb the tree while they continued to argue. I scaled the tree with ease and scooted over the branch then jumped into the yard. They were still arguing when I grabbed the chain-link fence and shook it. They hadn’t even noticed I was already on the other side. “Hey, jackasses! Let’s go. You’re wasting time.”

Frank immediately walked over and started his climb. Mike and John followed behind.

Mike had his slingshot loaded as we hiked up the hill to the cave, but there were no guard dogs in sight. As we walked in we saw obvious signs this was where they held dogfights. There was a fenced pit, benches around the perimeter for the gamblers and cages for the dogs. We were kids but we weren’t stupid. This was an illegal sport that brought in a lot of money. We split up and roamed through the connecting chambers looking for more evidence. As I snapped pictures with my Kodak Instamatic camera, I heard John yell.  

We all ran toward his voice. He was in a chamber with bars and gate at the entrance standing next to a cage with a battered dog lying in it. John squatted down. “I think it’s dead.”

 Mike put his hands on his hips. “Yeah, freshly dead.”

I turned toward Mike. “Freshly dead? You mean recently dead.”

“Yeah, same thing.”

“We’re talking about a dog, not a tray of strawberries.” 

Mike always put his twist of humor on every situation, just his way of dealing with a difficult home life. We tried to ignore it, but sometimes it was impossible. 

Discovering the dog and taking photos of the ring, we knew it was time to make a trip to see the sheriff. We didn’t find any money, but now we were pretty sure of the source. The things we found were disturbing. It hit John especially hard, because he discovered the dead dog. 

We walked down the hill toward the tree where we first entered, I asked, “Frank, any ideas on how to get out of here?” 

“Let’s go back to the main gate. Maybe the door’s still unlocked.” He pointed toward the fence. “We can walk the fence line to keep out of sight.”

“Okay, but if it’s locked we’re screwed.” 

As we walked back to the gate, Mike dragged a stick along the fence making the repetitive and annoying clack as the stick hit each metal link. 

Frank threw a pebble at Mike. “Is that really necessary?”

“What?”

“Dragging the stick on the fence. We need to be quiet, dumbass.”

Mike pulled the stick off the fence, then said. “Look a dog-door.” 

“It’s where the dogs re-entered the property.” John bent down to take a closer look. “We could try using this instead of walking all the way to the main gate.”

I agreed. “The door on the main gate could be locked, so it’s worth a try.”

“There’s a spring that closes the opening once the dog goes through.” Frank reached down. “It’s a one-way door, but we can pull the tines in so we can crawl through.” 

John pulled on the tines. “Kevin you’re the smallest. Give it a try.”

Frank got on the opposite side of the door and held the prongs. I got down on my knees and put my head through the hole then wiggled through. Once I made it to the outside I stood and said. “That was pretty easy.”

Mike went next and came through with ease, but just as his feet touched the ground we heard the dogs. “They’re coming. Hurry up.”

Frank went next. He was the strongest and would be better at holding the tines open for John. He struggled more than Mike and I but made it through to the outside. He quickly turned around to hold the door open. I pushed on the other side to help Frank as John’s head popped out. 

Mike loaded and cocked the slingshot. “Speed it up John, the dogs are getting close.”

I yelled, “Shoot the dog treats now.”

Mike let loose with his first shot. “Ping” we heard it hit the fence. He took a second shot. “Ping” The fence took another hit. Mike’s third shot ricocheted off the barbed wire hitting John in the face.

“Ouch, what the hell, Mike?” John was only half way through. 

Frank shouted, “Hey Annie Oakley. Try shooting over the fence.” 

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