Read Online The Hollow by Jessica Verday - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Verday
Tags: Art
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make. Again I felt that tug. It was an unseen prompt steering me toward my destination, telling me which way to go. So I listened to it. I chose the bridge.
The Washington Irving Bridge was a never ending project that was still under construction. While it was supposed to help bring in more tourists by re-creating the famous covered bridge that Ichabod Crane had been chased over in "The Legend," all it'd done so far was create traffic jams. And tourists don't like traffic.
So that plan had been a big fat bust.
With the delays from the investigation of Kristen's accident, and the winter months coming quickly, a temporary hold had been placed on the project. The way things were going, it would probably be another three years before the bridge was actually finished.
I walked slowly down to the river's edge and paused there. The water rushed by, swirling and bubbling, hypnotic in its frantic cadence. The sudden burst of a squirrel chattering in a tree next to me startled me, and I kept moving. Toward the bridge. Toward our spot.
Long before the town had decided to rebuild the bridge, Kristen and I had been meeting at the Crane River, named after the gangly love-struck schoolteacher who was scared off by the Horseman in Washington living's tale. A leftover platform from part of the old bridge sat directly above one of the newer concrete supporting towers, and it made a fantastic seat. The wooden beams made a bench of sorts, and your feet could swing out over the open water. There wasn't any railing in front to hold you in place, or catch you if you fell, but it was like you were literally sitting on top of the river.
The construction work they had done recently made the platform a little harder to get to, but I was still able to reach it. I climbed up the tower and wedged myself in, looking out over the water. The sun was warm on my face, but I was cold inside. Had it really happened here, at this place? Would I never get another chance to sit up under this bridge and talk with Kristen again? It all seemed so surreal. This wasn't how my life was supposed to go. It wasn't fair.
A car rumbled overhead, and I felt the vibrations all the way down to my toes, but I ignored it. Instead I thought about last year, how our first day after school had been spent at this bridge…
''You 'II never guess who asked me if you were taking French this year, " / teased Kristen.
Her brown eyes grew wide. "Who? "
"Oh, it might have been Trey Hunter. " / ruined my feigned composure with a large grin. "He ashed me where you normally sat, and if anyone special sits next to you."
My smile grew larger when I saw her eyes light up at the news. "He even thanked me very nicely after I told him. I think he likes you."
She blushed and looked away. Then her smile faded a bit, and she shook her head. "He probably just wants to ask me if I'll switch seats with him or something. I don't think he actually wants to sit by me. "
"You don't know that, Kris."
"Yes, I do, Abbey. I just … do." She shrugged. When she turned to face me again, sad Kristen had disappeared and happy Kristen was back in her place.
"I have to show you this new shirt I got, " she said excitedly. "It's a deep burgundy, with corset lacing up the front. But you have to let me wear it at least once before you borrow it, okay? Because I know you 'II totally try to steal it from me."
Our laughter bounced over the water and came echoing back to us…
Something caught at the edge of my vision and I lost that sound of laughter, snapping back to reality with a sharp jolt. I turned my head slowly, following a shadow until I could clearly see what it was. A small piece of yellow crime scene tape fluttered along the shallow edge of the water below, tangled up in part of a tree branch. It was a cruel reminder of what else had happened here.
I stared at the tape, watching it surge in the water and then flap against the tree. It didn't belong here. It didn't belong anywhere, but especially not
The Washington Irving Bridge was a never ending project that was still under construction. While it was supposed to help bring in more tourists by re-creating the famous covered bridge that Ichabod Crane had been chased over in "The Legend," all it'd done so far was create traffic jams. And tourists don't like traffic.
So that plan had been a big fat bust.
With the delays from the investigation of Kristen's accident, and the winter months coming quickly, a temporary hold had been placed on the project. The way things were going, it would probably be another three years before the bridge was actually finished.
I walked slowly down to the river's edge and paused there. The water rushed by, swirling and bubbling, hypnotic in its frantic cadence. The sudden burst of a squirrel chattering in a tree next to me startled me, and I kept moving. Toward the bridge. Toward our spot.
Long before the town had decided to rebuild the bridge, Kristen and I had been meeting at the Crane River, named after the gangly love-struck schoolteacher who was scared off by the Horseman in Washington living's tale. A leftover platform from part of the old bridge sat directly above one of the newer concrete supporting towers, and it made a fantastic seat. The wooden beams made a bench of sorts, and your feet could swing out over the open water. There wasn't any railing in front to hold you in place, or catch you if you fell, but it was like you were literally sitting on top of the river.
The construction work they had done recently made the platform a little harder to get to, but I was still able to reach it. I climbed up the tower and wedged myself in, looking out over the water. The sun was warm on my face, but I was cold inside. Had it really happened here, at this place? Would I never get another chance to sit up under this bridge and talk with Kristen again? It all seemed so surreal. This wasn't how my life was supposed to go. It wasn't fair.
A car rumbled overhead, and I felt the vibrations all the way down to my toes, but I ignored it. Instead I thought about last year, how our first day after school had been spent at this bridge…
''You 'II never guess who asked me if you were taking French this year, " / teased Kristen.
Her brown eyes grew wide. "Who? "
"Oh, it might have been Trey Hunter. " / ruined my feigned composure with a large grin. "He ashed me where you normally sat, and if anyone special sits next to you."
My smile grew larger when I saw her eyes light up at the news. "He even thanked me very nicely after I told him. I think he likes you."
She blushed and looked away. Then her smile faded a bit, and she shook her head. "He probably just wants to ask me if I'll switch seats with him or something. I don't think he actually wants to sit by me. "
"You don't know that, Kris."
"Yes, I do, Abbey. I just … do." She shrugged. When she turned to face me again, sad Kristen had disappeared and happy Kristen was back in her place.
"I have to show you this new shirt I got, " she said excitedly. "It's a deep burgundy, with corset lacing up the front. But you have to let me wear it at least once before you borrow it, okay? Because I know you 'II totally try to steal it from me."
Our laughter bounced over the water and came echoing back to us…
Something caught at the edge of my vision and I lost that sound of laughter, snapping back to reality with a sharp jolt. I turned my head slowly, following a shadow until I could clearly see what it was. A small piece of yellow crime scene tape fluttered along the shallow edge of the water below, tangled up in part of a tree branch. It was a cruel reminder of what else had happened here.
I stared at the tape, watching it surge in the water and then flap against the tree. It didn't belong here. It didn't belong anywhere, but especially not
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