William Hicks - Twist

“Okay,” Johnny said, seeming to understand all these things innately. “This is your last dare, as long as you don’t move until I tell you to.”

Though the boys grumbled about the concession, they talked animatedly about the dare.

“He’ll never stay,” Jimmy said.

“Yes I will.”

Billy turned ashen, his demeanor was that of a condemned man about to face the firing squad.

The train grew closer, rumbling along, making the steel tracks vibrate with energy. Kevin could feel it against his gym shoes. The tremors grew stronger and stronger. Pebbles laying on the ground nearby started doing little dances.

Johnny rushed over and pushed Kevin to his butt again. “There-wait for my signal.”

Kevin sat, stunned. His butt hit a large sharp stone upon landing. Stretching his legs out, he massaged the tender spot on his butt cheek.

The train’s horn blasted from down the tunnel. The sound floated to them, tumbling through the tunnel and somersaulting into their laps. Their excited words grew more hurried as they waited.

Adrenaline shot into Kevin’s system. His heart trip-hammered in his chest. The ground moved beneath him-he imagined a stampeding elephant charging toward him from behind. The recent butt bruise no longer throbbed-only his heart did-it was the apex of that roller coaster ride. The top hill, he knew. Soon the ride would be over. Nothing else existed; him and the train.

“Kevin, please,” Billy whined again, fear spilling over in his voice.

“I’m fine,” Kevin yelled, pulled from his world of utter excitement. His voice was nothing next to the train sounds coming from the tunnel.

The train hit its horn again. Its echo reverberated down the tunnel. Startled by it, Kevin jumped. At least he tried to. Still seated, instead he just kicked out.

“There it is…I see the lights,” Jimmy said excitedly. “It won’t be long now.”

“Please. It’s not safe,” Billy begged. His face was a mask of misery, of guilt. It was full of all those things Kevin saw in his parents’ faces-adult issues.

Kevin would not move. “No.” This was his moment, the time when all the boys learned to respect him, to even admire him. It might be the chance he needed to become popular, more so than Johnny.

“I see…see…see…them too.” Tony’ s words stuttered out like machine gun fire. His excitement bubbling into fear made his stutter worse.

“Cool,” Jimmy said, staring at the open mouth of the tunnel.

It wouldn’t be long now, Kevin knew. Johnny would tell him to move any time. Placing his hands flat on the ground, palm side down, he started to get ready. This would allow him to push himself to his feet quickly.

He saw sweat glistening on Billy’s forehead. The other boys were behind him now as the train got louder, obviously watching with anticipation as the vehicle grew closer. Billy stared at Kevin with sad and confused eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” Kevin said, trying to ease Billy’s fear. It sounded like a whisper, though he was shouting.

Getting ready to jump up and run from the tracks, Kevin tried repositioning his legs by pulling them toward himself. The left one came easily. The right one did not. His foot was jammed under the wooden tie of the tracks. He tried pulling, pushing, even untying his gym shoe to get it free. Then he tried again. His foot wouldn’t budge.

“Move,” Johnny screamed, over the roar of the train.

Kevin realized the error of his previous assumption, because Johnny hadn’t just waited until the very last moment. He had waited longer. Probably because Johnny wanted to make it good, being Kevin’s last dare and all. The train had to be about halfway through the tunnel to make this much rumbling and noise, Kevin knew. Much too close. Especially now that his damned foot was caught. He yanked at it, pulled. Nothing. Even tugged at the cloth. His nails ripping across the material made a tiny scratching sound. He could feel it more than hear it. The sound of the train-too close now-thundered in the air.

“Help! Help!” Kevin screamed. It came out, but was lost in the general din of the train. The other boys didn’t hear it, no one saw the exasperated look on his face, and he couldn’t point to his leg to explain. Desperately he tugged at his leg again trying to twist it free.

Billy turned to look at Kevin one last time.

Kevin yelled again, “Help me. I’m stuck.” He was going to die. Billy couldn’t hear him either-the knowledge made him sick, and weak inside. His stomach ached, his bladder hurt. He was only ten years old. Sweat poured down his face.

Kevin’s mouth moved, but nothing came out-Billy saw-so he moved over toward his friend. Kevin pointed to his right foot.

Billy ran over to the other boys, trying to gain some help. Any help. They didn’t respond so he ran back and tried to free his friend. The other boys watched in stunned disbelief as Billy tried to wrench Kevin’s foot free. Billy tried everything, twisting, turning, pulling the foot. Kevin’s pants ripped, giving the impression his foot was free. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t.

Finally, Billy tried pulling at the wood. Nothing worked. Kevin’s foot was wedged. Jammed tightly in place.

The train sounded close. Billy ran over to the others again. “Help me!” he screamed in their faces. Anything to break their silent trance. They stood rapt in shock. Billy ran back to Kevin. Spotting a piece of wood lying nearby, he grabbed it up, shoved it under the board where Kevin’s foot was lodged, and put all his weight onto it, trying to pry Kevin’s foot free. Nothing.

Billy, too afraid to see how close the train was, because if he saw he might freeze up, worked quickly. Pushing with all his might on the board again, using all his weight, might help move the lever. The force he exerted was tremendous, especially considering his age and size. Like a mother lifting a car off her trapped toddler, adrenaline made Billy strong.

Kevin cried in agony as his foot came loose, toes snapping like firecrackers from the force of Billy’s lever. No one heard them except Kevin. He didn’t care. His foot was free.

Kevin stood up, leaning away from that foot. Before he knew what was happening, Billy shoved him hard to the right. Then the train came crashing through, rushing by inches from Kevin’s prone body.

The train moved slow-for a train-due to the oppressive darkness of the tunnel. The train conductor didn’t see the boys who were situated just outside the tunnel. Coming from such darkness into such bright light was blinding. At the last moment he applied the brakes. Too late.

Billy Hawkins’ body was struck, throwing him two hundred feet from the accident scene. He was pronounced dead on arrival. Billy’s parents and friends attended the funeral, where the gang mourned the loss of a truly brave boy.

Kevin’s right foot had four broken bones. His parents never allowed him to see the other boys again after Billy’s funeral.

Later that year, the state paved a street across the tracks close to the same location as the fatal accident. Billy’s parents, with some of their loyal friends, lobbied the city to rename the street after their dead son. They never succeeded. Though their efforts did get Billy’s’ heroism into the local paper, the street remained Elm Street. Everyone thanked the newspaper for immortalizing Billy Hawkins. A true hero.

Kevin went on to become a successful real estate broker. A short time after the accident, Kevin’s parents moved away from his roots to a large suburb of Los Angeles. It was easier than dealing with all the looks from their neighbors. And seeing the sorrow in Billy’s parents’ faces, after having lost their only child.

There was only one person who seemed not to blame Kevin. Billy’s best friend at the time, Beth Sierra. Over the last twenty-five years they remained in contact-writing back and forth. Kevin had grown closer to her than to some of his so-called good friends.