Whirlaway
Topic: Stories

*Summer 1941*

With the war still a good five months away, the kids had flocked to the Carr house and up to the tree house in the big oak that straddled the north side of the house. Theodore Ramus Carr, Theo to everybody, held court there daily, selling sodas out of a cooler. His twin sister, Althea Ramus Carr, Althea to everybody? Thea to Theo only? was treasurer. Thirteen-going-on-fourteen, they were the oldest in the group, a fact that Theo never failed to mention. His favorite topic of conversation was the twins' imminent October birthday, when their father was expected to present Theo with his first automobile. By proxy, his second favorite topic was the Derby and the winner Whirlaway, which was the name he would give his new car.

Althea didn't care about driving or Derby winners or even selling sodas. She had one goal that summer: climb the fire tower. She had tried all last summer and the summer before, but the monolith terrified her. It was eight rickety flights up, constructed of steel with crossbeams and a staircase. It was no longer in use but it had long been a ritual of childhood to climb to the lookout and try to see Louisville in the distance, a city on clouds poured by the river.

To make matters worse, her mother and Aunt Tildy had recently begun ganging up on her, giving her those 'now that you're becoming a young lady' lectures, and the tower seemed to take a new significance that summer. They made her feel as if she had to do it then, before she turned fourteen and became a ?young lady?. It did not occur to her then that the world seemed to be opening up for Theo even as it was shrinking for her.

**********

She had two weeks before school started. From what she could tell from all the lecturing, that was when the race to become a 'lady' would begin. Her elders were displeased with her indulgences in the last days of her childhood. Her understanding was that she should be practicing for that vague ideal but she had still not managed it to the top of the fire tower. Her limit was five flights to date and she was determined. Theo would go whenever she asked and was as resolved as she, so they went twice a week. Donning her overalls, she never failed to earn a tsk, tsk coming from the kitchen on her way out. She didn't care?today was the day, vertigo or not. It was her only buffer from the suffocating influences of ?womanhood?, whatever that was. She felt that reaching the top would somehow galvanize her and place her permanently as Theo's equal.

Summers in the Ohio Valley are humid and that day was no exception. By the time they walked the mile to the tower they were sticky with wet air and their own sweat. Accompanied by their friend Elijah, they approached the tower.

Elijah was the first one up, as he had to be first in everything. Being a short fellow and humbly in love with Althea, he was naturally full of braggadocio. Easily offended, he was equally as easily soothed. Once Althea had begun her ascent Theo fell in behind her.

With Theo cooing words of encouragement she made it easily up two flights. Elijah was two flights up and Theo was making her aware of his presence by shaking the structure with his jaunty climb. At the fourth floor Althea began to realize inevitably that, should she fall, she would most certainly break some variety of bones or bust any number of organs. Sweating more at the thought she continued to climb, focusing on what was above her.

As she reached the sixth floor, higher than she had ever been, it seemed the tower shook more forcefully. Clinging to the crossbeam she looked down to see Theo, hand out to the world, swinging and yelling victoriously. At that same moment she became aware that she had been concentrating so closely she had not heard a sound. Theo's voice hit her like a rocket. It overwhelmed her as she reached the seventh flight. She froze. Looking out she saw low-lying bushes that hugged the knobs with many clusters of trees scattered as far as the eye could see. Along the horizon she searched for the distant skyline of Louisville but could not make it out in the mist that rose from the river.

She was tense and acutely aware of her surroundings, her target, and the distance between her and Theo. He was now only one flight below. She closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and pushed her foot against the crossbeam. Looking up at Elijah, she felt the tingle of willpower creep into her legs and fill her entire body and she reached for the next bar and the next. She felt Elijah?s hand clasping her own, his other hand wrapped around the back straps of her overalls hauling her onto the floor of the lookout. Safe. Then Theo's scream.

*************

He never had a chance. It wasn?t his fault. It wasn?t because he was reckless, though he was. The crossbeam simply broke, slipped his hold right off the end. He fell seven-and-a-half flights, breaking his neck in the landing. They didn?t know that standing on the floor of the lookout. Elijah bolted over the side, heading down and making headway fast. Althea prayed to God, promising to wear dresses every day for the rest of her life, to listen to her Mom and Aunt and become a good, God fearing woman. Please, just let him be alive. She had to get down to him. She had to get her Father. She looked down and saw her brother?s still body below her and bolted for the stairs. By the time she reached the fourth flight, she knew he was gone. She just knew. A black hole opened up in her gut where he was gone for good.

In the weeks that followed she didn?t eat, she didn?t sleep, she didn?t talk much. She was surrounded by whispers and wails but she was stuck on a loop, replaying the awful events over and over, trying to come to some conclusion. What had gone wrong? Why did she have to climb the damn thing?!? It wasn?t worth it, she thought. Were there things she should have done differently? Regret had set up residence in that fresh hole in her gut. It wallowed, heavy and hollow at once.

*1952*

The first day of rain had been grand. For a week prior the weather had been relentlessly radiant, the valley just beginning its lush advance on March. Althea sat on the swing under the wide front porch of her ancestral home and contemplated the water soaking the garden. Up and down the long gravel drive white and pink dogwood flowers drifted to the ground, jolted from their tenuous new hold. With a wicked smile she thought the day a bargain, sacrificing a few gray days for the many more later, each resplendent with crocus, daffodil, clematis and tulips. Kentucky springs were obscene with color, the land burgeoning with seduction.

Fifteen days later March slid into April and Althea began to worry. It was still raining. Her mood was suffering, and her planned escape was delayed. She felt restless and agitated as she watched the rain bead on her new car.

She had bought the car two days before the rain came. At the car lot the deep plum color of it caught her eye. "Garage kept.? the salesman had said. "And custom paint too". The three-year-old Chevy Bell Air was perfect for her plan to start over, somewhere, anywhere but here?some place big, maybe California.

Once behind the wheel, she knew this was her car, so smooth and quiet, so easy to maneuver. She murmured the name, Whirlaway. The name had been Theo's idea for his first car, and all he had talked about that last summer, after Whirlaway set a new record in the Kentucky Derby. The name was perfect for this truck that would send her into orbit?and that last summer with Theo would melt away in her memory forever. When the incessant rain stopped she would wash him, paint his name on the doors and whirl away from this place for good.

Summer 2000
2nd Place, 2003 IUS Writing Contest/Fiction