the bend,” the man said. “There’s a log jam and it probably got caught there. Might have to take a dive though.”
“Thanks!” Twiggy replied. “I was hoping it fell in the rocks.”
“Y’all have a good day.”
“We’re trying,” I said. “You have a good day, too.”
After the truck left I ventured out onto the bridge again.
“If a half ton farm truck can drive over the bridge, I think I can walk on it,” I said.
“Can you go get the flashlight?” Twiggy said.
“A flashlight? Why?”
“The description said we might have to bring our own light where the sun don’t shine.”
“Why didn’t you bring it along then?” I asked.
“I did. It’s in my pocket. Just pull it out and drop it to me off the bridge,” he said.
I felt terribly awkward and embarrassed to be going through a man’s pants. A flashlight? How would a flashlight even fit into a pocket? His wallet was safe and sound. I did find that. When I found the flashlight I wasn’t sure I had found it. I expected something long and heavy but the thing I found was only a few inches square and had straps on it. It obviously was a flashlight, though, because it had little light bulbs and a switch. I jogged back to the bridge.
“Is this it?” I asked as I dangled the thing over the side.
“Yeah. Hold on. Let me wade closer.” Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh went the water as Twiggy found a stable position beneath the flashlight. “Okay, drop it!”
I released the light and the breeze caught it. It was so light that it drifted as it fell.
“Oh shoot!” Twiggy yelled as he dove for the light. SPLASH! “OOohhh that’s cold. That… is… freezing!”
“Oh, no!” I called back. “Does it still work?”
“I... I…I… I think so,” he chattered. He splashed to a standing position and attempted to turn on the light while shivering. He was soaked from head to toe. “Here!” He said. “Catch!” He waited for me to acknowledge that he was throwing something and then flung the GPS up to me. I ran across the bridge to catch it and my foot went right through a rotten board. I was lucky I was young and healthy as I sunk to my knee and fell forward right in the middle of the bridge. The GPS clunked across the boards and fell off the other side. I was glad the farmer was gone as I pulled my leg out of the hole and pulled up my pants leg to assess the damage. My shin was scraped a little but I wasn’t really hurt. I’d frightened Twiggy a lot more than me. He came splashing up the river bank and tender-footed it up onto the bridge.
“Are you okay?”
“Better than the bridge,” I said. “Does the flashlight still work?”
“For now. Does the GPS still work?”
“I don’t know. It went that way.”
“Hey! You have shins, too!” he said as he gave me a hand up.
“I bet I even have calves attached to them.”
We climbed down the river bank to find the GPS unit lodged between two rocks, the water lapping dangerously close.
“It already took one dunking,” Twiggy said. “But they tend to be a little water resistant.”
Twiggy picked up the GPS and looked at the screen.
“Isn’t that just like a GPS?” he asked. “It wants new batteries.”
“We hope it wants new batteries,” I said. “And we hope I didn’t kill it.”
“It really does want new batteries. It has a ‘low bat’ message on it.”
“Well, where was it pointing to before it took up bridge diving as a hobby?” I asked.
“You’ll have to come under the bridge,” he said as he strapped the flashlight onto his head.
“Oh! So that’s how it goes!” I said. “That certainly looked like a strange flashlight to me.”
“It’s a headlamp.”
“It’s a geek label,” I said.
He just smiled because he thought it was a compliment.
“If I go under the bridge I’ll get all wet,” I complained.
“A little water never hurt anybody. Besides, I’m taking you back to your room after this.”
“No you’re not. I’m turning in my keys, remember?”
“Oh… yeah. So what are you going to do?”
“I was going to go geocaching with you.”
“Okay, well, hmm…” he said.
About this time I could hear my mother lecturing me about thinking things through before promising to go off on crazy hunts without having a plan in place, a destination in mind and funds to pay for it all.
“Let’s see what we can do if we only get a little wet,” he said as he dripped water all over the riverbank and my shoes. “Maybe the flashlight will help.”
I sat down and took off my shoes and socks, then pulled my pants legs up as far as they would go.
“See? I do have calves,” I said.
“Amazing,” he said. “I never knew.”
He put his arm around my shoulders and pointed the headlamp up at the underside of the bridge.
“See where the light is shining?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s where the GPS said ground zero was.”
I always associated ground zero with the spot bombs fall but I decided it was a geocaching term I better get familiar with.
“Okay, maybe it’s not too deep there,” I said.
“Come around here where it’s shallow,” he said as he led me back into the river. The rocks were slippery and I gave up very quickly on trying to hold the ends of my pants legs up. I needed my hands to balance as I slipped and slid my way under the bridge.
“See? Isn’t this fun?” Twiggy asked.
“There aren’t fish in this river, are there?” I asked.
“No, of course not,” he said, but I didn’t believe him.
“Trout and little guppies are fine,” I said. “I’ve even caught a trout once. But I don’t like those spooky catfish. They’re ugly. And they
