Tippy, Chapter Three

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

Continued from last week.

Well, awful things happened anyway.

Jim put me in the old Corvair, and we headed down the lane. I could see Pete just standing there looking at me. I watched until I could see him no more.

We turned left on state Route 506. We stopped at a stop sign in a small village and then went straight on. I was memorizing the route very carefully because a wild, audacious plan was forming in my mind.

When we got to the end of the road, we crossed the road onto a farm lane. There was an incredibly old house there. Jim got out and walked up to the farmer who had come out of the barn. They talked for quite a while, then Jim came to the car and opened the door near me.

I was shaking and quivering as Jim picked me up.  

“Well, Tippy, be a good boy,” he said trying to be jovial. I looked at him and thought, “how can you do this?”  

Then I noticed the tears in the corner of his eyes. He was having trouble with this, too.

He got in the car and went back the way he had come. I stood there in the driveway. A couple of kids came out of the house, but they weren’t Jim, and they sure weren’t Pete.

I had decided I would play along with this horror show for a few days. My heart was breaking, and I was as mad at Jim as anyone.

While it was still very dark on the fourth morning, I took off reversing the path Jim and I had taken to get here.

Along about daylight, I got off the road and found a place in a small thicket of trees to rest. {DJim and Pete and I were out in heavy snow. It wasn’t a problem for Jim and Pete, but my legs were much shorter, and I sort of jumped rather than walked. Jim made snowballs and threw them. Pete could go after them, but I couldn’t  – I was too short.D}

Moo! A cow came into the thicket and started mooing.

I looked out, and it was almost dark. Time for me to get moving again.

I got back out to the road again, heading toward home. I stopped short of the little village. I didn’t want to get there in daylight. I found an old junk car to hide in that day.

To be continued.

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.

Note: The {D} section indicates a dream sequence.