Free My Great-grandfather Turns 12 Today by BILL DODDS Page A
Authors: BILL DODDS
one-piece underwear. “You want to go first or you want me to?” he asked. “Come on, shuck those clothes.”
I felt a little embarrassed but since everyone else wasn’t wearing any, I pulled mine off. Richard and Charlie laughed at my underpants and then Charlie grabbed the end of an old rope that was looped around some low branches on a tree right next to us. The other end of the rope was tied to a fat tree limb high out over the water.
“I’ll go first,” he said, suddenly tightening his grip on the rope. He took about a half dozen steps back and then ran at full speed and went swinging off the bank. He sailed out on the giant pendulum, letting go when he was about ten feet higher than we were. Then he put his hands down right in front of him and plunged feet first into the drop-off. He quickly popped to the surface, waved at us, and began swimming in toward us.
“Your turn,” Richard said to me.
The end of the rope was dangling down from the limb to just about three feet over a shallow part of the river. Charlie snagged it, clambered up the bank, and held out the line for me to take. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure about all this. I had gone off the high dive at the rec pool—jumping, not diving— but . . . .
“It’s not hard, Junior,” Richard said and laughed. “Just do like Charlie did.”
All the boys were watching me. I took a couple of steps back and prepared to jump.
“Just be sure to go feet first,” Richard said.
“What?”
“Do like Charlie.”
I nodded and hurled myself forward. Down I went, over land and then over water. Then up. And up. And up. When I could go no higher—it was like being at the high point when you’re on a swing—I let go and for an instant I was sitting in midair.
Chapter 17
Swimming and Talking
A lot can happen in an instant. A lot of thoughts can run through your head. I looked out over the top of the other bank and saw how beautiful the land was. I thought how different it would become in another eighty-eighty years when there would be freeways and houses and malls all over the place.
Even without glancing down at them, I knew the other boys were watching me. Without our clothes on, we weren’t all that different. I had a better haircut.
I started down and thought how much fun this was. It was a lot better than the rec center pool where I had taken lessons every summer for the past four years. I wondered how warm—or how cold—the water would be and I heard Richard yelling something.
The surface of the water was rushing up at me—or at least that was the way it seemed to be happening—when his words and his message sank in.
It was an important one, but I was too late.
As I started to straighten up I slammed into the water rear end first. It wasn’t a belly flop. It was more a butt flop. I gasped because—man, oh, man—did that hurt!
Of course, gasping just as your head goes under water is not a good idea.
I kept going down into the water and it kept getting colder. I felt the muddy river bottom and stopped. The current was gently pulling me along. I automatically went into a crouch and pushed off. I opened my eyes and it was slowly getting lighter, and warmer, too, as I kicked my way up.
When I finally broke through the surface I started coughing and then I started moaning and I could hear the other boys laughing.
“You all right?” I heard Richard call out.
I took a deep breath. I was treading water. I hadn’t gone too far downstream. The pain in my rump had lessened a little, from a 10 down to a 9.5.
“I’ve been better,” I said
He really hooted at that one. “You all right, Michael,” he said. “You all right.”
We swam and splashed and threw mud at each other and swung out on the rope for another hour or so. It was as if I had passed some kind of an initiation. I was one of them: just another
I felt a little embarrassed but since everyone else wasn’t wearing any, I pulled mine off. Richard and Charlie laughed at my underpants and then Charlie grabbed the end of an old rope that was looped around some low branches on a tree right next to us. The other end of the rope was tied to a fat tree limb high out over the water.
“I’ll go first,” he said, suddenly tightening his grip on the rope. He took about a half dozen steps back and then ran at full speed and went swinging off the bank. He sailed out on the giant pendulum, letting go when he was about ten feet higher than we were. Then he put his hands down right in front of him and plunged feet first into the drop-off. He quickly popped to the surface, waved at us, and began swimming in toward us.
“Your turn,” Richard said to me.
The end of the rope was dangling down from the limb to just about three feet over a shallow part of the river. Charlie snagged it, clambered up the bank, and held out the line for me to take. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure about all this. I had gone off the high dive at the rec pool—jumping, not diving— but . . . .
“It’s not hard, Junior,” Richard said and laughed. “Just do like Charlie did.”
All the boys were watching me. I took a couple of steps back and prepared to jump.
“Just be sure to go feet first,” Richard said.
“What?”
“Do like Charlie.”
I nodded and hurled myself forward. Down I went, over land and then over water. Then up. And up. And up. When I could go no higher—it was like being at the high point when you’re on a swing—I let go and for an instant I was sitting in midair.
Chapter 17
Swimming and Talking
A lot can happen in an instant. A lot of thoughts can run through your head. I looked out over the top of the other bank and saw how beautiful the land was. I thought how different it would become in another eighty-eighty years when there would be freeways and houses and malls all over the place.
Even without glancing down at them, I knew the other boys were watching me. Without our clothes on, we weren’t all that different. I had a better haircut.
I started down and thought how much fun this was. It was a lot better than the rec center pool where I had taken lessons every summer for the past four years. I wondered how warm—or how cold—the water would be and I heard Richard yelling something.
The surface of the water was rushing up at me—or at least that was the way it seemed to be happening—when his words and his message sank in.
It was an important one, but I was too late.
As I started to straighten up I slammed into the water rear end first. It wasn’t a belly flop. It was more a butt flop. I gasped because—man, oh, man—did that hurt!
Of course, gasping just as your head goes under water is not a good idea.
I kept going down into the water and it kept getting colder. I felt the muddy river bottom and stopped. The current was gently pulling me along. I automatically went into a crouch and pushed off. I opened my eyes and it was slowly getting lighter, and warmer, too, as I kicked my way up.
When I finally broke through the surface I started coughing and then I started moaning and I could hear the other boys laughing.
“You all right?” I heard Richard call out.
I took a deep breath. I was treading water. I hadn’t gone too far downstream. The pain in my rump had lessened a little, from a 10 down to a 9.5.
“I’ve been better,” I said
He really hooted at that one. “You all right, Michael,” he said. “You all right.”
We swam and splashed and threw mud at each other and swung out on the rope for another hour or so. It was as if I had passed some kind of an initiation. I was one of them: just another
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