Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Write in the ADVENTURE genre (05/24/07)
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TITLE: "Andy" | Previous Challenge Entry
By Frank Salerni
05/24/07 -
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“Don’t go near the highway, Kenny!” He is so bold, that child what am I to do…. “Kenny, I said stay away from that busy highway; come here and watch your little brother. I have to look around in the trunk of our car for the thingy that takes off the tire, and I can’t do that and watch Andy at the same time.”
“Aw mom, do I havta?”
“Yes, you do. You’re almost ten, and he’s only three. Please, take care of him so we can get on the road again.”
A reluctant groan was heard as the older brother responded with, “Yes mom. Com’ on Andy, we’re goin’ explorin’.”
That was fourteen years ago, and I remembered each detail like it was happening over, and over again, and again, and again. A cycle that has never been broken, like an old worn-out record in my mind.
That was the last time we ever saw my brother, Andy.
We were just off the shoulder of the roadside playing as boys do. I could hear junk slamming around in the trunk as my mother worked to fix the flat on our car.
The air was hot, and the bees were thick for so early in the season. Andy crawled under a bush where he felt safe. He often would hide under things to play hide and seek, and wouldn’t give up his whereabouts (a skill in playing the game that I had taught him) until you gave up, and said that he was the winner.
“Andy?” I called to him. “Come on, Andy, I give up, besides I saw you go into that bush, and we gotta’ go.”
At first the silence didn’t bother me, because we’d done this so many times before. I kind of laughed within, because Andy was wearing a bell around his neck like a cat. He wanted to take our cat with us on the trip, but mom only let him take the bell, and I could hear it tinkling. I got scared though when the sound of it seemed to fade away.
“Andy, Andy where are you?” By now my mom was getting quite annoyed.
“Get your brother, now! We have to get moving, and the sun is going down.”
I remember some time later the glare of the flashlights, which darted randomly through the bushes. On the roadside were police cars, and rescue worker vehicles. Some trucks came with search dogs. As I looked up from the bottom of the bank all I saw were red blinking lights. To this day the sight of red flashing lights fill me with nausea.
Hours later a man who was holding his hat in his hands, and wringing it tightly, nervously told my mom that behind the bushes where Andy hid were wolf tracks… lots of them.
I hate this time of year. On the anniversary of my missing brother my mom and I visit the exact site where we last had seen him. For her, it means that the days to follow would be overflowing with depression. For me, it meant reliving a past event that I would rather forget.
As our car pulled up to the turnout my stomach sank. Every fiber in my body called out to my Lord. “Please Jesus, get me through this once again.” I always said this in my mind, but relied heavily on Him to take the pain away.
We stood overlooking the bank leading into the woods. My mother wept. The air was cooling off as the sun dropped behind the horizon. Everything came back to me, each horrid memory. My mother never blamed me for what happened, but I couldn’t shake the guilt.
Suddenly, I thought I saw something move in the brushes. Fear filled my heart at the thought of another encounter with wolves. The shadows from the setting sun made it near impossible to see clearly. Then it happened. A sound came to my ears that I could never forget. The sound of something that made the hair on my skin stand up, and made my flesh crawl. How could this be possible?
I heard the tinkling of a bell. My mothers face showed horror as I called out his name.
“Andy?”… To be continued.
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