Read Online The Journey Back by Priscilla Cummings - Free Book Online Page B

swimming. So that’s what I did.
    On shore, I dragged the canoe to a small clearing and pushed it under some bushes. Then I sank to the ground, untied the soggy jacket from around my waist, and wondered: what next? Keep moving? Hide out for a while? I couldn’t decide. First things first. I really needed to pee so I got up and did that. Then, hungrier than ever, I carried the backpack over to a moss-covered ledge hidden by some brush and sat by the river. I was soaked from head to toe, which was downright uncomfortable, so—after taking a good look around—I stripped off all my clothes, except for my underwear, and set everything on one of the rocks to dry. It felt weird, being out there practically buck naked, but I was also glad to get those stinking clothes washed off ’cause every time I got a whiff of garbage it made me kind of sick to my stomach.
    Rummaging through the backpack, I decided on two more pieces of beef jerky and five raisins, all of which I laid out beside me on the rock.
    While I ate, I thought I’d check the C&O Canal book to see if I could find out where I was. A map inside showed the Potomac River and a line of dashes and dots that were the towpath. Both sides of the river had railroad tracks, too. I found the Little Orleans campsite where I stole the canoe and ran my finger down the river to a bar labeled Dam No. 6. That’s where I was, I figured. Above Dam No. 6.
    Maybe, I thought, I could pull the canoe around the dam and continue paddling downriver. At some point, I’d start walking the towpath again, but I kind of liked that canoe. Along the way, I’d have to find more food. Some towns were coming up. I still had three dollars in my pocket. But I could also do some Dumpster diving. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it’s all I could think of just then. That reminded me of the Joker in the movie
The Dark Knight
, saying, “Do I look like a man with a
plan
?” Funny. I loved that movie.
    So there I was: a kid with a plan, beside a canal, and out of the blue, this pops into my head:
A man, a plan, a canal: Panama.
I smiled, recalling how that was a palindrome. It’s the same thing, forward and backward. Like the name
Hannah
, or the words
racecar
,
nun
,
and
toot.
    Ha! Me and my friends used to have fun with oxymorons:
jumbo shrimp, pretty ugly, plastic silverware
. But if you ask me, we had even more fun with palindromes.
Madam, I’m Adam.
    Still grinning, I turned my face up toward the sun.
    Don’t nod.
    I chuckled. There was a kid at my middle school named
Mike Kim
. His whole name was a palindrome!
    Boy, my mind sure wandered, didn’t it? It was right about then that I heard whimpering in the bushes. Little, high-pitched whimpering sounds. Startled, I swung my head around to see who was there, but all I saw was a squirrel frozen halfway down a tree. Standing up, I scanned the riverbank. Nothing toward the dam. But a small motion upstream caught my eye. Like a little furry hand, waving.
    Barefoot and with just my underwear on, I carefully picked my way over a few rocks to get a better look. It was a dog. A little gray dog lying on its side. It was stuck somehow and its tail was flapping up and down.
    â€œHey, buddy,” I said calmly. “You okay?”
    When he heard me, the little dog whined and his tail started thumping like crazy. I crept closer and saw a clothesline had been wrapped around its neck and that the line was tied to a small tree that was caught up in the rocks. The dog was drenched to the bone, his tongue was hanging out, and his head could barely move on account of the rope was so tight.
    Kneeling down, I touched him softly on the side. “It’s okay,” I told him. I wondered what kind of lowlife would tie a rope that tight around a dog’s neck.
    â€œI’ll be right back,” I promised.
    I returned with the knife so I could free him. There was no collar or anything on the dog. Maybe