Tippy, Chapter 14

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

The chicken and I got together by the truck scrap pile behind Corky’s. The chicken spoke first.

“My idea is to get you up in a tree near a stop light on Route 50. Then, on a late Sunday evening when people are leaving Rocky Fork Lake and going back to Cincinnati, you could jump in a boat and hitch a ride to Cincinnati.”

“Is that near Ivy Hill Drive?”

“Close enough. But the problem is I can’t find the right conditions. Dodsonville has a flashing light, but there are no trees nearby. Fayetteville has a traffic light, but again, no trees.  It is a long way to the next light, perhaps Owensville.”

I asked, “How far is that?”

“At least as far as we have come so far.”

I was discouraged, but the chicken spoke up, “There is another way, but it is not as sure as traveling Route 50 to Cincinnati.”

“What’s that?”

“We could go to Lynchburg and try the same thing.”

“Lynchburg? How far is that?”

“About a day’s walk for you back through the woods. It would probably be all right for you to travel in the daytime to get there.”

“And then what do I do?”

“Climb a tree, wait for a boat being towed by a car.”

“And if I succeed in JUMPING OUT OF THE TREE and landing in the boat, then what happens?”

“We have to hope they are going the direction we want to go. I’ll be flying along with you and if I see they are going the wrong way, I’ll swoop in and tell you to jump out.”

“Hmm. I have got to think about this.”

The chicken said, “if I can think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

She had certainly left me with a lot to think about. Her plan seemed risky and uncertain, even dangerous. But what other choice did I have? It would take a couple of years for me to walk to Cincinnati – and I might get caught.

Jim Thompson, formerly of Marshall, is a graduate of Hillsboro High School and the University of Cincinnati. He resides in Duluth, Ga. and is a columnist for The Highland County Press.