The Meter Man

Ned hesitated before walking with Sara as they followed the old mailman along the side of the river and into the woods. There was something about the way that Clark Wright smiled that made the hair on the back of Ned's neck stand up. He had seen that smile before from certain boosters who had assured him that he would always be a part of the Kentucky Wildcat football family. It was thick with fakeness. They walked along a path that seemed impossibly perfect for this area. Clark was nimble and spry for his age, and Ned found himself straining to keep up with him. Although the underbrush was thick around them, the path was clear and smooth. They arrived at the bridge after a twenty-minute hike. It looked ancient, but solid. The wooden planks were moss covered, yet the thick ropes that supported them appeared stable. Clark stopped and pointed across the river. There, on the other side, stood a tall, dark figure. The figure raised his hand in greeting, and Clark waved back. "So, what do we do now?" Ned asked. "We go talk to him!" Sara responded as she pulled Ned onto the bridge. They slowly edged their way across the bridge, which swayed slightly with each one of their steps. Ned glanced back at Clark, who gave him a wave and another one of those thick, fake smiles. Ned stopped. "Sara, I don't have a good feeling about this." She looked back at him and laughed. "Come on Ned! Don't be such a chicken! The bridge will hold us!" Ned slowly crept forward, holding onto Sara's hand. Clark watched them and felt a sadness enveloping his soul. He could still see them, but it was like looking at someone through a pane of frosty glass. The window to this world had closed on them the moment they'd stepped on that bridge. It would never open again. They belonged to the Meter Man now.