Rusty's Story - Preview

A Preview into Rusty's Story

A little boy was walking through the woods at dusk, a dimly glowing lantern as his guide. Trotting beside him was a mutt dog carrying a stick in his mouth. The dog’s tail wagged as he walked. The boy’s pale, freckled face was covered with scratches and bruises. His feet were bare and bloody.

Behind a shroud of fog, the moon glowed, urging to boy to trudge on, no matter how much his feet ached and his heart hurt. The early June air was damp with misty rain. Occasionally, the boy would look down at the little dog by his side and ask how he was “holding up.” The dog seemed to wink back at him, as if to say, “Everything will be alright.”

Bong! Bong! Somewhere up ahead, a church bell rang. The sound was eerie, lonely. The boy counted eleven bongs, then there was silence. He quickened his pace. A town was close.

Through the gnarled trees, over the jagged rocks, and up a steep hill, the boy ran. The arm carrying his lantern ached. Then, from the top of the hill, he finally laid his tired eyes on what he was looking for. A little lamplit town, nestled deep in the forest, waiting for him. The boy cheered and took off at a run down the hill. He tripped and fell then rolled the rest of the way, his brown jacket tearing on rocks and sticks. The little mutt dog hurried after him. When the boy reached the bottom of the hill, he held his breath. The damp earth smelled like summer.

He lifted his head from where he lay. Above him, silhouetted against the misty moon, was a wrought iron gate with two dim gas lamps on either side. In the boy’s presence, the lights seemed to shine brighter. The gate swung open with a creak. 

The little dog tugged the boy’s sleeve, and the boy rose to his feet. His whole body ached, but something told him the pain would soon end. The boy looked down at the dog and said, “You ready?”