Walking Down (Rewrite)
The dark side of a country road.
Stepping back in time,
the high school track star takes a evening ride and he is drunk.
His body and motorcycle are found a week later — 60 yards off of a country road.
A mile from our house a white Plymouth is parked at the entrance of a driveway. I recognized this car because I saw the driver who waved to me in an unusually friendly fashion several times in the past month. What I am calling unusual was what I perceived in his look, I detected something dark in his greeting of recognition.
On a recent Sunday morning, my son and I walked along a country road - he bouncing his basketball and I talking pictures. Coming around a corner, we noticed a police cruiser with lights flashing, sitting behind the same car the strange friendly guy was driving. I assumed he had been pulled over for speeding and now sat in the cruiser with the Sheriff but the Sheriff sat alone and the Plymouth was unoccupied.
A neighbor drove by as we walked past the lone Sheriff. They stopped further down the road and waited for us. They informed me of what had happened. The driver of the Plymouth had chosen that spot to shove a barbecue fork into his throat while parked in the driveway. He manages to get out and walk up the driveway before collapsing on the snow bank. This road has dark Mojo
Several years ago, when talking with a friend, his name was Ken, and he shared his fear concerning the power of his new snowmobile. I suggested he wear a helmet before riding but he didn’t heed my advice. Several days later, his snowmobile was parked alongside the country road a few yards from his driveway.
Ken had agreed to do some work for the road commissioner and never showed up to do it. The road commissioner who needed his help. went looking for him. He discovered Ken a week later in his garage, under his car, dead. The autopsy showed his head had received a severe blow.
Ken’s untimely demise reminded me of a high school friend who decided to take a ride on a motorcycle that had no brakes or lights at at night. Rodney met his fate head-on into an oncoming car, some where along a country road.
Where I find solace there walk the ghost of my memories.Ken’s untimely demise reminded me of a high school friend who decided to take a ride on a motorcycle that had no brakes or lights at night. Rodney met his fate head-on into an oncoming car, some were along a country road.
Where I find solace there walks the ghost of my memories.
