A Waltons Story

Chapter 20 - The Walk

A Waltons Story

(The Waltons Fan Fiction)

By: Kristi N. Zanker

Disclaimer: All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Lorimar Productions and Warner Bros. Television. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of The Waltons. No copyright infringement is intended.

20.

The Walk

John-Boy had fallen asleep against a tree. When he woke up, it was dark. He couldn’t believe he had slept that long. Then, he remembered the night before, the nightmare and not sleeping well. At least, he knew he slept this time. They must all be wondering where he’d gone to. His mother probably thought he was with another girl which made him think of Jenny. He said he’d be there after lunch to help her out. It was too late to go there now. He got up, brushed himself off and headed for the house. While on the way, he wished the shed was empty. If it had been, he’d go there. After all, he didn’t want to see anyone.

He was almost to the road, when John-Boy was sure he heard a car coming toward him. Suddenly, he heard a loud noise, almost like a gun shot. His heart began to pound, as he fell to the ground. At the next instant, he felt himself being pulled inside the foxhole. The same men were pulling him in and yelling. He then heard another loud explosion as he began to sink further into the foxhole. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he was shaking. He couldn’t understand it. He hadn’t been sleeping when he had that nightmare--maybe he had been. He sat up, his clothes and hair disheveled. He listened for more explosions, but didn’t hear any. The men were gone. His heart was beating, as if he really had been pulled by them into the foxhole at that particular moment. It had been so real. John-Boy sat there for a few moments, and then felt himself calming down.

When he felt his heart beating normal again, he got up and went to the road. A man had just finished changing a tire. A cigarette hung out of his mouth. John-Boy walked past him, as the man muttered, “blow out.” A few minutes later, the car sped past him. John-Boy shuddered, wondering what was happening to him. In the past, he would’ve asked the man for help. But this time, he walked right on by.

So, that was it. The man’s tire had blown out. He was sure it was a gun shot. John-Boy thought he was going crazy. He didn’t want anyone to know what had just happened. His father had said that this may fade with time. He hoped he could believe him.

John-Boy opened the door to the house, and went straight to the bathroom and into the tub. The house was quiet as he turned on the water. Soon, he was drowning those horrid dreams.

As he got dressed the next morning, John-Boy was not looking forward to confronting anyone downstairs. He could hear the usual chatter at the table. Someone had said his name. He then heard footsteps and finally a soft knock at his door.

“Come in,” he said, dreading the moment.

“It’s me, John-Boy,” said Mary Ellen.

“Door’s open.”

His oldest sister stood in the doorway, staring at him.

“Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs,” she said.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, putting his shoes.

“John-Boy, you look terrible. Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’ve been acting strange the whole time you’ve been here,” she watched him as he tied his laces.

“Strange? How?” He looked up at her.

“Well, with the way you spoke to Daisy—“

John-Boy waved his hand through the air, as if to push an object off of a table. “Now, don’t you start! I don’t want to talk about her with anyone right now.”