“We could make a raft or a bridge or something,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, that might be cool,” replied Ben.
“Did you ever follow it downstream to see how far it goes until there’s a real bridge?” asked Stephen.
“No, but we looked online,” said Jack. “The only bridge that way is the highway,” he pointed north.
“And back that way you’re all the way back to Jack’s house,” added Ben, pointing south.
“Yup,” said Jack.
“Well I guess there’s plenty of directions to go before we get desperate about that river anyway,” said Ben. “We still haven’t really gone much north from here, or west past the quarry anyway.”
Jack was digging through his bag. “Oh wait, check this out.” He pulled out a topographic map. “I forgot I had this.”
“Oh, nice. Thanks,” said Stephen as Jack handed him the map.
“So we’re about here,” Jack pointed. “And this is the quarry.” His map had all the local features. “It’s a little old, so it doesn’t have a couple of the newer roads, but it’s pretty accurate about this area.”
“What’s this here?” asked Stephen, pointing at the map.
“Looks like a little pond or something,” answered Ben.
“Don’t these lines mean that it’s uphill?” asked Stephen.
“Depends on the numbers, those are the height above sea-level,” said Jack. “They should be marked every fifty feet on the darker lines. Are they going up?”
“Yeah, look, five-hundred there, and five-fifty up here,” replied Stephen. “So that little pond is at the top of a hill. That sounds cool.”
Ben agreed — “Yeah, like a volcano or something.”
“Could be — we should go check it out. How far is it?” asked Stephen.
“Let me see,” said Jack. “Well, looks like a mile from here. Could be hard-hiking though, so maybe about an hour each way.”
“Do we have time?” asked Ben.
Jack cautioned: “We might, but it wouldn’t leave us much time to explore and stuff. I think we should plan a whole day around it.”
Stephen was the first to capitulate — “Yeah, let’s do that. Then we don’t have worry about getting right back,” said Stephen. “Actually, I think we might have to think about getting back before those clouds come.”
“Hey,” said Ben, “let’s go over to the quarry and see if we can get wet before we get wet.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Jack.
The boys packed their trash back into their packs and headed down the hill to the west. Ben was in the lead and Jack pulled up the rear. Jack moved somewhat slower down the hills — his balance was affected by his immobilized arm. He managed to catch up on the flats though, and kept pace with Ben and Stephen.
Shielding his eyes and squinting, Stephen looked off to the woods often. When a plane would pass overhead, he would look up frequently until it had passed. He seemed to be focused on everything except the trail in front of him.
They walked in silence for almost twenty minutes before Stephen broke in — “These trails are really pretty cool. We don’t have anything like this.”
Ben turned around and walked backwards to answer — “Yeah, we’ve been exploring almost every day, and we still haven’t nearly seem them all. The quarry is just up here.”
Stephen and Jack followed Ben’s lead to a narrow trail through the woods. Soon they had emerged at the edge of a clearing, on the lip of sandy slope that led to the quarry floor. Half-running and half-sliding, Ben descended first. Stephen followed and Jack came down a bit more gingerly. The floor of the pit was mostly hard-packed sand with a few large rocks strewn about.
“You gotta make sure nobody’s shooting down here before you come down — that’s the only thing,” said Ben. “There’s a target right there.”
“We’ve only seen them once though,” said Jack.
The three boys headed around the corner following four-wheeler tracks from pit to pit. Aside from the occasional broken bottle, the area was fairly un-littered. Soon they approached the quarry-pond, dumped their packs, and sat down to peel off their shoes and socks.
“What do you think — you going all the way in?” asked Jack.
“I’m just going to dip my feet,” replied Ben. “I don’t want to get all wet.”
“I’ve got to at least dip my head in — I’m burning up,” said Stephen.
After they had dipped and splashed, they climbed one of the rock walls and looked down at the quarry.
“You think we could jump off here?” asked Ben.
“Looks dangerous,” said Jack. “You first.”
“This first,” said Stephen as he chucked a large rock down to the water. He was rewarded with a giant splash.
He was ready to throw another when Ben stopped him — “Wait, hold on.” Ben pointed to the east side of the pond where two shapes were coming around a large rock.
Jack whispered — “They look pretty old, seniors maybe.”
As the two figures got a little closer, the boys could make out two older kids wearing jeans and t-shirts. One was smoking and the other held a brown paper bag. Working their way around the far side of the pond, the older boys passed out of sight.
“C’mon, let’s get our stuff,” said Jack.
Nodding in agreement, the boys started down the rocks. Lack of shoes hadn’t seemed like much of an issue on the way up, but on the descent they were hampered by their bare feet.
“Jeez, get going!” ordered Stephen. He was slowed by Jack picking his way down.
Jack shook his left arm out of its sling so he could use both hands to assist his climb. He didn’t put much weight on the arm, but used it to steady his balance. In a couple of minutes Jack and Stephen had made it back to their shoes and packs, but Ben was lagging behind.
“Why are we running?” hissed Ben.
“Why not?” answered Stephen. “Should we just hang around and ask them what good they’re up to at the quarry?”
Ben caught up with them and asked in a normal tone of voice — “What are weup to?” he spread his arms and looked around. “They’re probably just here to swim or target-shoot.”
“Just get your shoes on,” said Jack who was already tying his left boot.
Ben looked off to his right. “Hey guys,” he said.
The boys they had seen were emerging from around a rock.
The smoker was about six-foot two, and wore a black tee shirt that could have been comfortable if it were two sizes larger. Well-worn boots were mostly covered by his frayed jeans. A half-step behind, the guy with the brown paper bag was about as tall, but much thinner.
Smoker took a drag — “Hey. You guys seen a dog here?” he asked. Bag Man chuckled at the question.
“Nope, not today,” said Ben.
“You see one, let me know,” said Smoker. “We’ll be over there,” he pointed to the adjacent sand pit.
“Yeah, no problem,” replied Ben.
When Smoker and Bag Man had walked out of earshot, Ben gloated: “See, what were you guys freaking out about? They were nice enough.”
A shot rang out. Jack, Stephen, and Ben turned to see Smoker pointing a pistol at a target mounted to a rock.
“See? Target shooting,” Ben said.
“Just get your shoes on — let’s get out of here,” said Jack.
Smoker fired again, and the sound was followed by laughter. They could hear Smoker barking orders at Bag Man.
“Yeah, okay,” acquiesced Ben.
Denied their normal exit, the boys had to debate how to exit the quarry. They knew there must be a trail or road on the other side of the pond because the older kids had come from that direction. Stephen headed off and Jack and Ben followed. When they had reached the far side of the pond, they found a path that wound through some scattered brush and led to a dirt road.