When the Tide Ebbs: An epic 1930's love story (A Grave Encounter) Read Free Page A

But I’m warning you, Kiah—”
    My teeth made a grinding noise. Warn me ? Did she honestly think I had an ulterior motive for wanting to lure her off to a secluded spot? Whose idea was it to study together? Not mine. Who sat in class every day, batting long lashes and flashing teeth at whom? Not this cat, and not at her. My jaw tightened. She could find another tutor, if she was afraid of me.
    When she finished the sentence, I let out a deep breath and almost laughed aloud
    “Yes, I must warn you. Your job won’t be an easy one. I hate math.”
    Was that all? That was the warning? When the bell rang that afternoon, she shoved her books into my hands.
    “Kiah, I need to run home and tell Mama where I’ll be, so she won’t worry. I’ll meet you under the bridge in about thirty minutes.”
    “I won’t hold my breath.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing. Forget it.”
    I didn’t doubt she was telling the truth, yet I didn’t expect her to meet me there. Her mother would put a stop to our little get-together as soon as she heard of her daughter’s intent to meet with Fendora Grave’s son, on a seldom traveled road under an old bridge. I couldn’t blame Mrs. Pruitt. If I had a daughter, I’d be slow in letting her meet with the likes of me in a secluded area, also. Still, it hurt. Would my father’s curse be branded on me forever?
    I trudged down the winding, dusty road, kicking sand as I walked. The fluffy white clouds above my head reminded me of the bubbling foam on top of a pot of Lima beans just before they boil over. I sucked in a deep breath. The scent of freshly dug peanuts from a nearby farm hung heavily in the humid air. The kudzu vines, recently brought in by the Soil Conservationists to ward off erosion, had begun to wither and turn yellow, signaling the end of summer.
    I pulled off my brogans, tied the laces together and slung them over my shoulder. My overalls were so short there wasn’t much chance in them getting wet in the shallow creek. Still, I rolled up my britches legs a notch or two to disguise the length. With a handful of smooth river rocks gathered from the creek bed, I filled my pockets and trekked down the middle of the shallow stream, tossing the stones one at a time. My toes squished into the cool sand beneath the water. Top minnows nipped at my ankles.
    I had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not so much funny as strange. Like something gnawing at my insides. My heart pounded against my chest and I could hardly catch my breath. I broke out in a sweat. Never had I experienced such a peculiar malady. I concluded that either I’d contracted a serious disease or else…else I was in love. Yet, I wasn’t sure which evil to wish for.
    A lump the size of a frog formed in my throat. Just as I figured. She wasn’t coming. It was a stupid idea in the first place.
    I must have thrown a dozen or more pebbles, attempting to get at least one to skip on top of the water. Yet, each one went ‘plunk’ and immediately sank to the bottom. I couldn’t count the times I’d repeated this action before, each time with the same results. But there was nothing I hated worse than defeat, so when I’d emptied my pockets, I reached down and picked up more rocks. I’d never give up—not until the day I’d see a little stone go pop, pop, pop, sending out ripples as it danced on top of the water. Mama said I was as stubborn as a three-legged mule, and I reckon she was right.
    After wading several hundred feet, I stopped and spun around when I heard Zann yell my name from atop the gorge.
    “Kiah, wait, I’m coming down.”
    With my hand, I shaded my eyes from the sun and looked up.
    She stood on the rickety old bridge, flashing pearly white teeth and waving. She jerked off her shoes and stockings but I turned away when she commenced to tie the tail of her dress between her legs. When I glanced up, she’d magically turned her skirt into a pair of knickers. My Adam’s apple