Read Online Long Holler Road - A Dark Southern Thriller by David Lee Malone - Free Book Online
Authors: David Lee Malone
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twenty years old. I’m not sure if he bought it completely, but it made me look like the best friend on the face of the earth. I didn’t like lying, and was terrible at it, but I was backed into a corner. Even old Cob would have been proud of my performance.
Me and Glenn were going coon hunting that night, so we took part of the unexpected windfall Madge had given us and bought some pork and beans, Vienna sausages, a big hunk of hoop cheese and some crackers at Aunt Lena’s store to carry along in our backpacks. We couldn’t decide if were going to camp out or not, but if we did we would be well stocked. Me and Glenn thought of ourselves as expert woodsmen, who could live off the land the rest of our lives if some of those commies we’d heard about decided to nuke us one day. There were caves we had spent hours exploring in several different places that would make the perfect survival shelters. We were also two of the best spelunkers in the known world, or at least in our minds we were.
When you are blessed with the infinite energy youth provides you can accomplish three or four different activities a day if you get started early enough in the summertime. So after we finished our shopping, we decided on a whim to leave a little early and do some exploring in one of the caves that was not too far from where we planned on hunting. It was also the one we knew the least about.
We went to Glenn’s house to gather up his dogs. Old Swamp Root, Devil and Blue started barking like crazy when they saw us coming out to the pen where Glenn kept them. They knew it wasn’t feeding time, so the only other reason we could possibly be there was to take them hunting. Each dog had a distinct bark, so when they cut down on a coon we always knew which dog it was. We opened the gate and they came out like those horses do at the Kentucky Derby when the starting gate is opened. They started running in circles and jumping on each other like it was the first time they had ever seen the light of day. Swamp Root and Blue immediately started trying to locate a tree to pee on. Devil was a female, so that was one activity she had to forego.
We waited until old Roscoe, Glenn’s daddy, had gotten enough beer in him to cloud his judgment considerably and asked if we could take his old hunting truck. Our parents would let us drive a little during the day, but never at night. Glenn’s momma overheard us pleading our case and stepped in to quash our efforts immediately. Mommas were good at coming up with every reason on earth why it was too dangerous to do something you thought would be a lot of fun.
“C’mon Momma,” Glenn was pleading, “we promise we won’t go any farther than the Portersville Gap. We’re gonna hunt on the side of Lookout Mountain close to the Dooley place and we promise we’ll park the truck in the gap. We won’t even get on Highway 11. It’s less than four miles.”
“Let the boys take the damned truck, Ruby,” Roscoe intervened on our behalf. “Hell, you and me was a- courtin’ in my old Chevrolet when we was their age.”
“There weren’t as many idiots on the road back then,” was Ruby’s argument.
“Accordin’ to some of the stories you and Daddy tell, there were more idiots back then,” Glenn said with a grin on his face.
Ruby decided there was no use in putting up any more fight. She was only offering a half-hearted argument anyway. She was acting like her mind was on more pressing matters. Probably some kind of trouble Cob had gotten himself into. That boy was always getting into some kind of trouble. She finally gave in and made us swear on every Bible in print that we wouldn’t go any place except where we said we were going. We took the oath and ran out to start loading the old truck.
Portersville Gap connects Big Wills Valley, the valley Long Hollow is in, with what everybody called Railroad Valley. Railroad Valley was the one highway 11 ran through as well as
Me and Glenn were going coon hunting that night, so we took part of the unexpected windfall Madge had given us and bought some pork and beans, Vienna sausages, a big hunk of hoop cheese and some crackers at Aunt Lena’s store to carry along in our backpacks. We couldn’t decide if were going to camp out or not, but if we did we would be well stocked. Me and Glenn thought of ourselves as expert woodsmen, who could live off the land the rest of our lives if some of those commies we’d heard about decided to nuke us one day. There were caves we had spent hours exploring in several different places that would make the perfect survival shelters. We were also two of the best spelunkers in the known world, or at least in our minds we were.
When you are blessed with the infinite energy youth provides you can accomplish three or four different activities a day if you get started early enough in the summertime. So after we finished our shopping, we decided on a whim to leave a little early and do some exploring in one of the caves that was not too far from where we planned on hunting. It was also the one we knew the least about.
We went to Glenn’s house to gather up his dogs. Old Swamp Root, Devil and Blue started barking like crazy when they saw us coming out to the pen where Glenn kept them. They knew it wasn’t feeding time, so the only other reason we could possibly be there was to take them hunting. Each dog had a distinct bark, so when they cut down on a coon we always knew which dog it was. We opened the gate and they came out like those horses do at the Kentucky Derby when the starting gate is opened. They started running in circles and jumping on each other like it was the first time they had ever seen the light of day. Swamp Root and Blue immediately started trying to locate a tree to pee on. Devil was a female, so that was one activity she had to forego.
We waited until old Roscoe, Glenn’s daddy, had gotten enough beer in him to cloud his judgment considerably and asked if we could take his old hunting truck. Our parents would let us drive a little during the day, but never at night. Glenn’s momma overheard us pleading our case and stepped in to quash our efforts immediately. Mommas were good at coming up with every reason on earth why it was too dangerous to do something you thought would be a lot of fun.
“C’mon Momma,” Glenn was pleading, “we promise we won’t go any farther than the Portersville Gap. We’re gonna hunt on the side of Lookout Mountain close to the Dooley place and we promise we’ll park the truck in the gap. We won’t even get on Highway 11. It’s less than four miles.”
“Let the boys take the damned truck, Ruby,” Roscoe intervened on our behalf. “Hell, you and me was a- courtin’ in my old Chevrolet when we was their age.”
“There weren’t as many idiots on the road back then,” was Ruby’s argument.
“Accordin’ to some of the stories you and Daddy tell, there were more idiots back then,” Glenn said with a grin on his face.
Ruby decided there was no use in putting up any more fight. She was only offering a half-hearted argument anyway. She was acting like her mind was on more pressing matters. Probably some kind of trouble Cob had gotten himself into. That boy was always getting into some kind of trouble. She finally gave in and made us swear on every Bible in print that we wouldn’t go any place except where we said we were going. We took the oath and ran out to start loading the old truck.
Portersville Gap connects Big Wills Valley, the valley Long Hollow is in, with what everybody called Railroad Valley. Railroad Valley was the one highway 11 ran through as well as
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