Black Water Creek
David Adams had a unique whistling call for each of his five children. He aimed repeated tweets at the open second floor window while loading the car for their annual New Year’s Day picnic.
Fifteen year-old Derrick jumped out of bed and rushed to the window. He waved to his dad and glanced at his two younger twin brothers playing catch with an inflated multicolored beach-ball. The bright sunshine and warmth made it ideal for the picnic at Black Water Creek. He pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts before skipping down the stairs, two steps at a time.
The drive to the creek grew more uncomfortable each year with the five growing kids crammed into the back seat of the old rusted Morris Oxford. They sat in-and-out with four-year old Jasmine sitting on the lap of Daisy, the eldest sibling. New Year’s music entertained Derrick’s parents in the front seats. Warm breeze through the open windows added to the discomfort of the sweaty bodies. Anticipation made the cramped seating bearable.
“Are we there yet?” Jasmine’s usual query halfway into the trip created…….
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