We used to always walk the tracks to and from school each day. They ran right behind my house, so I would meet my friends at the tracks near my house in the morning and we would go trooping down the tracks like we were railroad workers. It was definitely better than riding the bus to school. All of them noisy kids hooting and hollering till the bus driver would tell them to shut up. But, I will admit, riding the bus does have benefits, you see. When you’re a boy about my age, around fifteen, there are a couple things in life you are interested in: guns, building forts out in the woods, and girls. And, riding the bus gives you an opportunity to possibly get yourself a girlfriend without getting in trouble because you were brave enough to try and get one during class.


But anyway, walking down the tracks was mighty nice too. You have a sense of adventure of trespassing and the possibility of having to outrun a train that is right on your tail. But, it is also like you have your own private interstate highway! It was only one track, of course, but still. It was only my friends and I, plus the random squirrel or deer to cross our paths. That is, until we got to a railroad crossing, and there happened to be a couple of those along our route. We would just wait until no one was crossing or looking, and then we would run until we were out of sight.


Now, I say we used to do this. Everything went right each time we did it, so we were fine. But then, there was a cold December’s day a few years back. A thin veil of snow had been lying on the ground the night before, making the tracks a little more slippery. Now, we were walking home from a fine, exciting day of school. You see, there was this kid in our school, a little bit older than me, named Rodney Jenkins. Well, everyone hated him, even the teachers, because he was mean as the devil himself. No one- except for his buddies, of which he didn’t have many- wanted to even be near the kid as he smelled like a skunk being run over by a manure truck right in front of a waste water treatment plant! Yeah, he stunk! It was said that he never took a shower, much less put deodorant on. Then, when he would beat someone up, he would smile a wicked smile that made you know right quick, you were screwed. But, that day, someone actually had the guts to stick firecrackers down his pants and light them during the five-minute down time between classes. When he realized this, man he ran like a squawking turkey! Everyone burst out in laughter and could not stop. Thing is, whoever did it was never caught. But, if he or she was ever caught, they would probably be given a high five and pat on the back. He had to run out of the school and smother his butt in the snow. Then, he was taken to the nurse to be treated for second-degree burns.


Remember how I said one of the biggest interests of boys my age is girls? Well, before this day, I sure as heck wasn’t the most popular kid in the grade. I wasn’t the football quarterback, nor was I the fastest kid on the cross country team. I was just an ordinary kid in my grade. In fact, before that day no one ever sat by me during lunch except for my friends Tommy, George and Karl. Up until that day I was a nobody, just a walking decoration.


But then came that day. It was already going pretty darn good with Rodney Jenkins finally paying for all of his devilish ways. I was just sitting at lunch with my friends. Everybody was still talking about the day’s happenings. Then, the girl who is said to be the prettiest, nicest girl in the grade came to our table. I really was not expecting this, as you can imagine. Not even one girl had ever walked up to me and taken the time to try to start up a conversation.
“Hello Ben,” she said with a warm smile. Her friends, sitting a couple tables away, were giggling like normal girls who have something to giggle about. “May I sit here?” she asked, pointing to a chair in front of me.
“Sure,” I said, wondering how she knew my name and why she would start talking to me, much less ask to sit down in front of me. Tommy, George and Karl then started trying to look their best by saying, “Hello Serena”, to try to impress her. I then told them to be quiet and asked Serena why she wanted to talk to me.
“Oh,” she said, somewhat awkwardly, “I wanted to talk to you because I thought you wouldn’t mind, as I have never seen you talking to a girl before.”
I then became a little suspicious when she said this. “How do you know, and why would you care if I have talked to a girl or not?”
“Um,” she paused for a second to think of a reason, “because I kind of feel sorry for you, since you have never talked to a girl before.” (Actually, I had once, but I didn’t feel like telling her as I thought I might be getting somewhere.) “So, I wanted to be nice and talk to you.” I thought that she might be doing this because her friends had told her to do it; I could see them still over there, giggling at their table.
“Plus,” she continued, “I also think you are pretty cute.” When she said this, I of course blushed. Not only had a girl never really talked to me, but no one had ever called me cute. Actually, that isn’t entirely true, my mom and sisters (of which I had three) would when they would look at my baby pictures.
“Ah, you u’m really think I’m a’h cute.” I slowly choked out, trying not to stutter, still blushing.
“U’m, yes of course I do!” she said. (I think that she felt that she was in an awkward position as well.) By that time, my friends had started snickering and saying things like, “Ah, that’s nice Ben, she likes you!”
“Shut up,” I hissed at them, getting a little annoyed, “or go somewhere else for a bit!” The fact was, none of us had girlfriends before this. So, I was already getting further off the runway of dating them, and it made me feel quite good! They knew what I wanted, so they got up and walked over to another table.

“Sorry about that,” I said once they had walked off. I then became a bit easy, and got a little more comfortable.
“It is okay,” Serena said, smiling. “They are, after all, your friends. I just couldn’t figure out another time to try to come talk to you about this. So,” she continued, “I decided to come now, as I really had wanted to talk to you for a while.”
“Um,” I said, “How long have you thought this way about me?”
“Probably since I first saw you in the hallway,” she responded. I thought: “Dang, she has liked me ever since sixth grade, and I’m now in ninth grade!” So Serena and I kept on talking until the bell for the end of lunch rang and it was time to once again navigate the mob scene of the school halls back to 4th period.
I found that I kept on thinking about Serena all through class- flunking the test in algebra with a ‘D+’ because my mind was not working right at the time- it was in a totally different world. A few weeks later, I finally worked up the courage to ask her out, figuring that it would boost my popularity quite a few points. So, I did when I was walking from 2nd to 3rd period one day and saw her by her locker. She thankfully said yes, and I have been going out with her ever since. As you can imagine, quite a few of the boys in my grade and around the school became jealous of me because a not-so-popular kid was now dating the prettiest and most popular girl in possibly the whole school! Tommy and George then became a bit jealous as well, but were also happy because they figured that I could get them hooked up with a couple of Serena’s friends.
So, this day was not a normal day for me. As we were walking the tracks home, like any other day, we of course were carrying on and having a good old time, talking about the day’s happenings.
“Dang,” Karl was saying, with a laugh, “it seems that our friend Ben here has now jumped into the boat of love, and left us stranded on the lonely island of unpopular folk!”
“Yeah,” George said, smiling. “Hey Ben, you should try to introduce me to one of Serena’s friends when you get a chance. Willow especially is pretty hot.”
“Haha, I’ll try, George,” I said with a grin.
At this time we came to the great trestle that crossed the deep ravine below. We had crossed it many times before, without problems. But today there was a fresh coat of ice that covered the ties, and the rails were a bit slicker. As we started crossing the bridge, taking great care not to slip on the rails- we were still carrying on and being loud- we didn’t hear the whistle of an approaching train in the distance. Then, there was the sound of the whistle coming ever closer and this time I heard it.
“RUN!” I yelled, breaking the laughter and ceaseless chatter. My friends paused, wondering what I was yelling for, until the sound of the whistle came- closer still. We started running across the bridge as fast as we could, really trying hard to keep our balance.
About halfway across the bridge, I heard a crack of ice and a faint yell. I quickly looked back to see what had happened and realized with a shock that Karl, who had not been far behind me, was nowhere to be seen. Then, I noticed a hand clinging desperately to the end of one of the railroad ties.
I quickly ran over to the hand and looked down to see my friend dangling perilously over the side of the bridge.
“Give me your hand!” I yelled. By this time, Tommy and George heard me and ran over as well.
“Come on, Karl!” Tommy yelled, trying to encourage him. “Reach up and grab Ben’s hand!”
Karl tried desperately to reach up and grab my hand but couldn’t.
“I can’t!” Karl gasped, as he continued to struggle.
“Yes you can, just reach up and grab it!” George yelled. I heard the sound of the train whistle again, closer than ever, and when I looked, saw its headlight in the distance.
“Come on, Karl! The train is coming!” I screamed, fear growing within me.
Karl then tried grabbing my hand again and I reached down and grabbed his. He then let go of the rail and I struggled to pull him up. Both of our hands were pretty slick from throwing snow balls at each other earlier. As I pulled him up, his hand slipped down and out of my grip, and he started falling down into the canyon below.
“NOOOOO!” the three of us screamed. I tried to reach down to grab him again but was too late. We watched as our friend tumbled into the canyon below. Tears started welling up in my eyes. I had failed to save my friend.
But our screams of anguish were once again interrupted by the sound of the train whistle. I could hear its chuffing as it rapidly approached the far end of the bridge.
“RUN!” Tommy screamed. We scrambled to get up and started sprinting down the track. The salty tears mixed with the cold air stung my face as I ran. The train was right on our tails as we ran, always close behind. The engineer of the train couldn’t know what we were running from- the pain that was now stinging the hearts of Tommy, George and me. This was just another run on the line for the man.
As soon as we came to the end of the bridge, we jumped off the tracks and into the bushes along the side as the train blasted past. We sat there for a while, not believing that we had just lost our good friend.

They found Karl’s body a few days later about a mile down river. The funeral for him was unbearable, as bittersweet stories were told about our wonderful friend. I hugged both of his parents tightly, and as I cried into their clothes they tried to convince me that it wasn’t my fault, but it was.
That day was supposed to be a normal day, but it wasn’t. We never walked the tracks to school again.