Billy Parks grabbed a pastry and rushed out the door. 

“Billy?”

“Yes, Grandma?” He walked into the garage watching as his grandmother held up a jar. His grandmother, white-haired and slender, was canning tomatoes.

“How was the pond?”

“Good. Thanks for the new trunks.” Billy had lived on his grandmother’s farm since his parents were killed in a car accident nine years ago. It was just he and his Grandma and money was tight. Billy did odd jobs to earn spending money.

“Mrs. Evans is expecting you by 9 am.”

“Yep. I have to go by the hardware store first so I’d better go.”

“See you later.”

She gave him a kiss on the forehead. He smiled and sniffed. His Grandma smelled like tomatoes. 

On Billy’s twelfth birthday, his Grandma gave him a horse. Everyone in the small North Carolina town of Summer Falls knew who the tall skinny brown-haired boy on the horse was.

Billy patted Rex, his German Shepherd, on the head and tethered Blaze to a telephone pole. “Stay here, fellas.”

He tucked his t-shirt into his pants looking down at his worn sneakers. Painting Mrs. Evans’ fence would give him extra cash to buy new clothes before school started. He walked toward the hardware store. A crowd had gathered in the town square. Checking his watch, he started towards them.

“Is there a reward?” A fat man in overalls shouted.

Turning to the wiry man beside him Billy asked, “What’s happening?”

“A small plane went down on Wildcat Ridge off Brighten Mountain.”

“Whose plane?”

“Factory owner flying home from Virginia. He made his way down the Ridge, but had to leave his briefcase. Anyone who’d go up there is crazy. There are always hikers who get killed ‘cause of the winds.”

“Is there a reward?” This time a squat blonde-haired woman asked the question.

Finally a man with black hair in a suit said, “I’ll pay $1000 to anyone who brings back my briefcase.”

In unison, eleven men shouted, “I’ll go” as Billy yelled it too. One man looked at him and laughed. Billy ran back to Blaze and Rex.

After his Grandma and Mrs. Evans agreed to let him postpone painting her fence, Billy filled his book bag with peanut butter sandwiches, cookies and carrots for Blaze and dog biscuits for Rex, a pick-ax, binoculars, compass and two ropes. Then they headed for Brighten Mountain.

At the foot, Billy looked up the trail at a group of men traipsing up the treacherous slope. An onlooker grinned at Billy and said “You’ll never catch them.” Billy nodded and jumped on Blaze. Digging in his heels, he whistled for Rex and they started up the winding horse trail.

At the top of the third ridge, Billy pulled the reins. “Let’s check our bearings.” Blaze whinnied and Rex growled. Billy grabbed his compass. “If we make a trail to the northeast we’ll get there ahead of ‘em. Let’s go.”

With Rex leading, Blaze trekked up the hills through the trees. An hour later, they stopped below Wildcat Ridge.

Billy ate a sandwich and two cookies while handing out carrots and dog biscuits to Blaze and Rex. He hopped off Blaze, hung the binoculars around his neck and tied a rope around his waist fastening the other end around his horse. 

“Rex, you lead.”

Using Blaze to pull him up the embankment, Billy hunched as a blast of wind hit him square in the face. He and Blaze crept up the trail until they saw the plane on the cliff’s edge. It was wedged between some pine trees.

Creeping towards the wreckage, Billy dropped to his knees at another blast of wind. The plane creaked shifting closer to the edge. Using the binoculars, he located the briefcase.

Holding out the pick ax, Billy said “Rex, go hook the handle.” The large dog bit into the rope and moved towards the plane. The surefooted dog jumped through the broken windshield hooking the pick-ax on the briefcase’s handle. Rex barked. Billy tugged and pulled on the rope. Finally the brown bag bounced toward him. He grabbed the case tying it to the saddle. He climbed up on Blaze. With Rex in the lead, they headed down the mountain. Halfway down Billy giggled when the group of men shouted as they reached the plane.

Counting hundred-dollar bills, Mr. Benton, the briefcase’s owner, said, “Thank you, Billy. Those men didn’t make it to the plane in time. I would’ve lost my designs. Thanks to you, I have them back.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What will you do with your reward?”

“Buy clothes, carrots, dog biscuits, something for Grandma and put what’s left in the bank.”

Billy smiled. 

His Grandma hugged him and whispered, “You sure were brave, Billy.”

-The End