Memory Lane

Chapter Eight

Hopefully everyone is starting to really enjoy this book! We are finally getting into the story a bit more which means less background and more ~plot thickening~. Don't forget, this story is updated every week!

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"Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence." - Robert Frost

Memory Lane: Chapter Eight

Even though my legs don't allow me the speed to catch up to Jesse quickly, there's no cause for concern. I can clearly see him even after he enters the tree line. This section of woods is nothing more than ten or so acres of forest separating Monument Avenue from another road that cuts through Bennington, and the brush is anything but thick. Each tree has breathing room for its limbs to spread and create a beautiful canopy of leaves, thinning out as the seasons change and the leaves fall. With autumn in full swing, the ground is dense with orange, maroon, and crispy brown leaves that crunch under each step I take to gain on Jesse's brisk pace.

Each quickened step I take causes my jeans to rub harshly against my skin, but I bite back any grimaces and instead choose to endure the discomfort. If it changes from discomfort to pain, I know I'll need to give up trying to catch up to the handsome, yet entirely too annoying, boy nearly fifty yards ahead of me and instead go back home to lather on more medical lotion.

Whether it be because he didn't hear my feet kicking up leaves near him and slowed down, or because I was able to step up my pace, I manage to almost completely close the gap between me and Jesse. I continue to trail behind him, not interested in matching his stride. My stomach growls in protest to once again skipping breakfast, but I grab some water from the bottle that resides in my backpack to momentarily satisfy it.

We emerge from the woods to another road, where West Road becomes Main Street and also the quickest road to leave or enter town. It's bustling with cars as the various families throughout Bennington rush off to their offices down on Main Street or rush straight out of town to reach their jobs in cities close by. Since the sidewalk is on the opposite end of the road, Jesse glances both ways and waits for a lull in the traffic. When one comes he quickly crosses the road, momentarily glancing over his shoulder to see if I made it across safely.

Before following him, I too glance both ways and flinch when noticing the old Walloomsac Inn just down the road on my left. The old, dreary building looms over the pavement and leaves an eerie chill in the air, so I hurry across the road after Jesse. As we pass the Old First Church and the adjacent Cemetery, the warm breeze I felt earlier this morning begins to slip away as a cloud covers the sun. I hug my arms across my body, narrowing my eyes at Jesse's muscled back just a few yards in front of me. His backpack is slung over one shoulder only, so half of his muscular back is within view.

"This is stupid," I mutter to myself. "Stupid curiosity for making me follow him. This is not the way I have ever gone and it feels like I'm being led on a wild goose chase, and it's creepy. Stupid Google Maps for supposedly leading me on a longer path, and stupid cemetery where what's-his-face from the Titanic is now buried that no one could seem to remember the name of-"

"Charles Greeson Jones."

My feet stutter at Jesse's voice. Up until crossing the street earlier, I wasn't sure he even knew I had decided to follow him.

"What?" I ask dumbly.

Jesse barely turns his head to glance over his shoulder, just enough so his voice can be thrown behind him. "The guy you're muttering about."