Wandering Girl

By Leigh Splitt

Nine-year-old Linda McCollough, the only child of overprotective parents living in a quiet Wisconsin neighborhood, loves to ride her bike, hang out with her Brownie troop, climb the iron bars at the playground, and tease her teenage babysitter.

One summer day after Linda heads to the park, she meets Peggy Bryant, a championship swimmer from a middle class family. Soon they discover that they are both seeking the same things in life: freedom and adventure. Against the wishes of her parents, who think Peggy is a bad influence, Linda develops a bond with her new friend that prompts her to secretly launch a plan that leads her and Peggy into trouble, deep within the forbidden woods behind the railroad tracks, where they soon learn that adventures always come with challenges.

Wandering Girl shares the tale of a young girls journey through the woods with her new best friend that teaches them valuable lessons about perseverance, consequences, and most importantly, themselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Mar 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781480855663

Leigh Splitt

Leigh Splitt is a model, an actress, and a writer. She graduated from West High School in Appleton, Wisconsin and Drake University in Des Moines, Iowa (with a BA in News-Editorial Journalism and Mass Communications). Leigh has traveled through 49 states and 25 countries. She and her husband, David White, live in Grand Chute, Wisconsin.

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Copyright © 2018 Leigh Splitt.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5567-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5565-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5566-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018901045

Archway Publishing rev. date: 04/11/2018

For two of my friends since childhood: Mary (Murphy) Burow, who helped me to become a writer and first edited this book; and Pamela (Roberts) Ashley, who edited this book again and helped me to finally get it published.

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Contents

1.     The Neighborhood

2.     Arts And Crafts

3.     The Cookout

4.     Running Away

5.     Viaduct And Willow Forest

6.     Milking A Cow

7.     Hoboes

8.     The Old Farm

9.     Strawberries

10.   The Grocery Store

11.   Separate Ways

12.   Going Home

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CHAPTER 1

The Neighborhood

Linda stopped pedaling her bright red bicycle and let it coast down the sloping hill. Her bicycle’s wheels spun faster and faster, until she appeared to fly past the trim new houses with manicured lawns in her quiet neighborhood.

The girl tossed back her long brown hair as it whipped around behind her in the rushing wind. Impulsively, she let go of her bicycle’s handlebars, flung out her arms wide, and looked far beyond the road towards the blue horizon. That seemed to be perfect freedom.

I feel like a seagull, Linda imagined, a graceful bird flying through the sky above the ocean. She could almost hear the waves crashing against the rocky shore and taste their salt spray.

Or maybe I feel like a wild pony, Linda reflected, a fiery steed galloping across an Irish moor. She could almost see the rolling hills covered with lush green grass and smell their heather flower blossoms.

Reality quickly overcame the girl as she approached her plain brown, ranch-style house near the bottom of the slope. As she neared the big curved driveway, she grasped her bicycle’s handlebars again, lightly touched its pedals, and turned them backwards to slow down. She bent over, poised like a racer, leaned to the side, sailed up the arc in a graceful swooping motion, braked, and skidded to a stop inside of the garage. There she flipped down her bicycle’s kickstand and parked.

Linda noticed that both of her parents’ cars were gone. She checked her wristwatch and saw that it was a few minutes past nine o’clock in the morning. Her father left for work at seven o’clock, and her mother left for work at nine o’clock. So, Cindi, her babysitter, was already somewhere inside of the house.

Hi, Cindi, Linda called as she entered, letting the screen door slam behind her. She found the teenager in the kitchen washing dishes, up to her elbows in a sink full of soapy water. I went for a bike ride after breakfast.

Hi there, Cindi answered, blowing soapsuds at the girl. Now that you’re back, want to help me dry?

Sure. Linda pulled out a dish towel from the rack underneath the sink and began wiping a pan. She was almost ten—really too old to need a babysitter—but her mother worked all day and didn’t trust her to stay alone during the summers. Linda guessed that it was because she was an only child. She’d heard somewhere that only children were supposed to be spoiled, which she wasn’t, and overprotected, which she probably was.

Cindi finished washing the dishes and left the kitchen without drying any of them. Linda sighed and quickly finished drying the dishes herself.

Meanwhile, the teenager changed into a bikini, went outside, and set up the lawn chair.

Every weekday it was the same routine: Cindi did all of the housework, and then spent the rest of the day sunbathing on the lawn chair. She had beautiful blonde hair—bleached with the help of bottles and bottles of Sun-In hair lightener—and a rich brown tan.

Sometimes, just to tease her, Linda would make a tiny scratch on her arm or leg. That always caused Cindi to shriek in alarm and spray water from a little squirt bottle onto the newly whitened skin. The girl wasn’t sure what the water was for, but her babysitter seemed to think that it would make the scratch brown again. Linda thought that it was funny that anyone should be so serious about getting a perfect tan, especially someone who was pretty easygoing about everything else.

Cindi started sunbathing, picked up a book—a cheap dime-store romance—and began to read. Linda sat down beside her on the ground and began thoughtfully chewing a blade of grass. She loved reading, too, but her tastes ran more toward mystery and adventure stories. The girl supposed that when she was seventeen, and had lots and lots of boyfriends calling her all of the time, she might like those romantic books the way that Cindi did. She didn’t as of yet, though, and it wasn’t much fun just watching her read.

Linda stood up and nudged the bathing beauty with her foot. I’m going to go to the park. Cindi waggled her own bare foot in acknowledgment.

The girl ran one short block to the neighborhood park. It wasn’t really much of a park so far, because it was new. Most of the trees there were still very young, no more than tall saplings. There were, however, three big oak trees in the middle of the park that were very old. They had been there for a long time, ever since the days when the whole area had been nothing but woods and farmers’ fields.

The park, and Linda’s house, were at the very edge of the city. Only a few blocks away, the woods and the farmers’ fields were still there, with railroad tracks, which had been built over one hundred years ago, running through them. The girl had never seen the outskirts of the city, except from a distance, since her parents wouldn’t allow her to go there.

They did, however, allow her to go to the park. In addition to trees, it had swings, slides, a teeter-totter, a merry-go-round, and Linda’s favorite piece of playground equipment—a square, pavilion-type platform. To get up to the platform, a child had to climb either the curved monkey bars on two opposite sides, the slide on another side, or the twin iron bars that curved like a staircase on the side opposite the slide.

Linda chose to use the iron bars, because that was the hardest way to get onto the platform. She shinnied up the first sections, until she was able to grab ahold of the top bars, which were straight, parallel, and quite far off of the ground. Then she swung back and forth, hanging by her hands, until she moved far enough forward to reach the platform with her feet, and slid onto it.

Linda sat there for a moment, out of breath from her efforts. After most kids reached the place where she was, they climbed onto the roof. Naturally, she wasn’t allowed to. Her mother was afraid that she would fall and break her neck. It was a possibility, but Linda knew that she was more agile than that. She had never yet dared to try it, though. Suddenly, she wondered why not? The park was empty that early in the morning, so there was no chance of anyone catching her. Climbing onto the roof wasn’t allowed by the park officials either, for the same reason that her mother gave. Adults were all alike.

The girl decided to risk it. After all, it was her neck. Carefully, and oh so slowly, she stood up, grasped the edge of the roof, backed out onto the parallel bars, and balanced on them. She moved her hands farther along the sides of the roof, inched her body onto the flat area, and pushed off with her feet until they were first on tiptoe, and then in the air, as she made a final lunge—and slithered onto the roof on her stomach.

Welcome aboard.

Linda jerked up her head in astonishment. There, sitting on the other side of the roof, was another girl about her age.

I’ve been watching you ever since you came into the park, the girl said with a big smile. I was hoping you’d decide to climb up.

The thought that someone had been watching her all of this time was a creepy feeling. It made Linda shiver in spite of the girl’s friendly appearance. She took a good look at the girl. Her hair was shoulder length and almost black. Her eyes were blue, like the sea. She was tall and looked awfully strong,