Free Dark River Road by Virginia Brown Page A

rest of the money instead of send Mama those short letters saying she made too much money to qualify for medical aid. He’d seen her cry over the last one, but she’d stopped real quick when she saw him standing in the doorway.
    “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” she’d said then, and folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket. If it hadn’t fallen out and he hadn’t read it, he might not have known just why she had that tragic look in her eyes. But it had and he had, and now he felt even worse that he still hadn’t done the right thing and given Mama any money to put in savings.
    She hadn’t asked, didn’t expect him to help, and somehow that made it worse, too. Mama never expected any help. And she damn sure didn’t get any.
    Maybe when he got his first full week’s paycheck from the vet he’d give it to her. Then he could still keep saving for Shadow, too. There would be registration fees for the GCSA to pay so he could enter Shadow in the trials. He hadn’t decided yet what class. Nursery was for any dog thirty months or under, and by next winter, Shadow should be ready to enter. The Gulf Coast Stock Association annual fees were only twenty dollars, but he’d have to pay for each class entered. There were cash prizes for some, but what mattered most to him was the number of points. At the end of any calendar year, the dog with the most points would be declared the High Point Dog of the Year. That’d make the dog much more valuable. He could breed a valuable dog, make extra money.
    After a little while of watching the other kids play, Mikey sagged against him and Chantry said it was time for them to go home. He didn’t argue, but climbed onto his back like he was told and put his thin arms around Chantry’s neck to hold on.
    “Don’t go too fast, Chantry.”
    “I won’t.”
    Mikey’s leg braces cut into his arms some as he trudged across the park, but he didn’t pay it any attention, thinking instead about the work he had to do to get Shadow ready for any kind of competition. It’d be hard holding off Rainey when he got a wild hair and wanted to sell the dog for whatever amount he could get. Mama was right about that. Only the promise of two thousand dollars he didn’t have to earn would keep Rainey’s eye on the goal.
    Shadow trotted beside them, keeping pace despite constant distractions of squirrels and birds that made him whine eagerly. Chantry held tight to the lead. When he got to the far edge of the park, they had to go down a small hill, then up to the other side that brought them out close to Sugarditch. It was the back way, usually just used for work trucks. A low concrete block building was locked up for the weekend, and the city truck used for hauling dirt stood in the empty lot. No fence secured it, but there’d never been a need for one.
    He didn’t know what made him look, some movement at the corner of his vision maybe, but he looked over at the lot in time to see a blond haired kid climb up into the cab of the truck. Chris Quinton. With his two familiar sidekicks on his heels.
    He stopped to watch. After a moment the truck fired up, engine rumbling. They were going to steal that truck. Chantry watched in disbelief. It was a stupid thing to do, even for Chris. The huge vehicle lurched forward, stalled and died. He heard them laugh; then the engine turned over again. Once more it rolled forward, then died. This time they left the truck, leaping down to the ground and abandoning it.
    Chantry decided it was time to get out of there. If they were in the mood for trouble, he didn’t want to be anywhere close by.
    He started down the hill, grass slick beneath his feet, Mikey a clumsy weight on his back and the dog pulling him off-balance. Going downhill was easy enough, going back up was harder.
    He made it to the top, breathing hard, and halted to catch his breath. A narrow road ran between the park and the railroad easement. He’d follow the train tracks a ways, then