The Pond

When I was young I was on vacation with my sister in Spokane. We were at my parents' friends' farm. A large one with fields of hay, a forest and even a pond. Their dog Barney was my constant companion as I was be far the youngest person there. In the afternoons Barney and I would go exploring in the woods. Well, I was exploring. I think Barney knew every inch of that property.

He would walk ahead of me, into the forest, until he was almost out of sight. Then he would turn and wait for me to follow. He seemed to be leading me someplace important. In this manner we criss-crossed the property several times. He would walk ahead, wait and I would catch up. Each time taking me to a place of importance. At least to him, and often me.

One evening we had traveled to the far reaches of the forest. I remember wondering if we would have time to get back before night fell but Barney just kept walking on, turning and looking back expectantly. I trusted him. We was an old dog and seemed very wise. If he wasn't concerned then neither was I.

We traveled around the pond, through the forest of cat tails, across a small clearing and under a great, majestic tree. Nothing grew under the tree. There were only leaves and dirt and tall, awkwardly leaning rocks. The light from the late summer sunset was fading, giving everything a little more red tinge than I thought needed.

Something about those rocks, I thought. They seemed a bit too orderly for natural occurrences. I moved closer to the leaning projections and began to feel something very cold and dark cover my spirit, like all the light of my soul had suddenly been snuffed out into a glass of ice water. My breath hitched and I felt unable to draw the next one. As the cold and dark overtook me I fell to my knees, hitting one solidly onto a tree root. The pain, While severe, was comforting. With it I was pulled out of this fugue and slowly brought back to the lingering warmth of the summer twilight.

The earth under my hands and knees felt almost too warm and the light from the fading sun, although very dim, felt too bright for my eyes. I had the feeling that I did not belong as a visitor to this strange place. Everything was too real, too severe.

I leaned on a rock to regain my feet and it shifted just a little under my weight. I looked down and saw, with great horror, that this was no rock at all, but a simple grave stone. These were all grave stones!

Shocked, I spun around searching for Barney. At first I could not find him. I spun around frantically for moments unable to speak. Then I spotted him, at a distance, turning back and waiting expectantly. I ran toward him without a pause but he moved farther away as I ran until he was at the edge of the pond, looking back.

I was compelled toward him and the smell of the cat tails and still water. Now he stood partially in the water and I rushed to be beside him. As my foot touched the shore I remembered it all! Every walk into the woods, every adventure, every dangerous voyage of a boy and a dog. Right up to the very last. That winter. Standing on the frozen pond as the Ice began to crack around me. Barney clutching the hood of my coat as I fell through. Swallowing water and feeling the cold seep into my soul. Waking up shivering on solid ice next to an already freezing-over hole. Barney nowhere to be seen.

There stood a grave stone under a great tree. It's etchings had grown crumbly with many years of erosion from rain and cold. Especially the cold, driving small cracks into which the rain would seep, freeze and expand. But you could still make out a message.

BARNEY

OUR SWEET BOY

FELL THROUGH THE

ICE SAVING

A CHILD

BEST OF FRIENDS

WE MISS YOU

The last of the sun's light left the world and I was at ease. I walked into the shallow water to meet Barney. It felt comfortable as it vanquished the too-warm air from my body. Barney continued into the pond and looked back expectantly.

I followed.

As I always had.

© 2016 Phillip W Parsons

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Myra Fellows

That took me awhile. Is the young boy a ghost and finding his way or is the dog a ghost. I can't figure it out! Read it 3 times.
Okay read it 4 times. Barney is a ghost dog. No one told this kid the truth. Now Barney wanted to say goodbye. I am a bit sad. I lost a dog who fell through the ice. It was an awful thing to find. I was so young and thought he may be revivable. 7th grade.