The Borrow Pit by Henry Chadwick

Author:Henry Chadwick [Chadwick, Henry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Chadwick
Published: 2017-12-20T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Dad drove me back home, stopped in the driveway, left the truck running, and looked at me. “Well, I’ve got to work, Son. Get on in the house and try to get some rest.” I scowled a bit as I stepped down and made my way around the front of the truck. I had barely cleared the front bumper when he put it in drive again. He rolled down the window and as he rolled away shouted, “This will all be over soon!” How did he know that? Was he going to do something about it? Why was he in such a hurry?

As I made my way to the door, I realized that he’d failed to give me a key. The door was locked. I turned and tried to flag him down, but the truck was already fading out of sight. My choices were either to sit on the back porch all day or climb through the living room window. It was an easy decision since we hadn’t had breakfast, and the food was all on the inside of the house.

The front window closest to the door was the emergency entrance. Coaxial cable from the satellite dish went through the window and kept it from closing all the way, so it was impossible to lock. Braving the holly bushes, I reached up to pop off the screen and was reminded quickly of the pain in my ribs. Unfortunately, this was going to get worse before it got better. I pressed my palms against the glass and forced the window up enough to get my fingers underneath. It was not opened very often and proved to stick a little when you tried to budge it. The window sill was about five feet off the ground, so climbing through was going to be even tougher.

The bushes didn’t give enough support for climbing, so I was forced to sort of dig the sides of my tennis shoes into the gaps of the brick and hoist my way up. It took all of my might, but I managed to push myself up onto my elbows and peeked inside to find my landing zone. The arm of the couch looked to be close enough on which to get a foothold, and then I could launch myself into the cushions in one motion. I had a plan.

I shifted my weight onto one arm and slung my leg up over the sill. As I rolled over, my entire mass rested entirely on the left side of my torso and my ribs began to burn. I was now left in a precarious state, straddling the window on my sternum. I vainly groped the air with my left foot but couldn’t reach the couch. My options were limited. Fall to the left, onto the floor, and hope I didn’t bust my head on the floor vent. Fall to the right, into the holly bushes, and hope not to get all scraped to pieces.

I recalled the gravy smell from Sturgill’s.

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