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It is a clear, spring fed stream much like the Current River that I grew up playing in and on; in fact Jack's Fork is a tributary of Current River. The hills surrounding the town and its valley were too tall to be called hills and not tall enough to be real mountains. They were tree covered mostly in oak, hickory, and white or red pine, and full of wildlife.This area had been a hotbed of moonshiners since just after colonial times; but the stills really blossomed during prohibition and for years afterwards. The people were a walking, talking example of the old "Don't Tread On Me" mentality of revolutionary times. Most of the farmland in the area was along the river basin or in the small valleys. The farms were mostly family owned and worked; no big impersonal agricultural companies here.Before our trip south, Abby had asked me when she was going to meet my folks. I answered that I didn't think that was going to happen."Why not? Aren't I good enough?" Abby asked. She was kidding but. . . When Melissa opened her eyes everyone was picking up books and leaving. Her breathing was deep, but quiet. Jordan was having a hard time not cracking up, but his breath was coming as hers was. Melissa wondered if she’d done anything other than breath weird. She was pretty good at keeping control of herself as she daydreamed in class, the last thing she needed was to be remembered as the girl who fingered herself during class. “What’s funny?” Melissa asked casually as they left the classroom together. “Nothing,” he said breathlessly, still chuckling. “I decided space out during class, it was . . . interesting.” He turned the corner for his next class as she continued on to hers. At lunch, Melissa was still puzzled about what Jordan had said. He’d sobered up. All of them- Melissa, Chris, Malcolm, and Jordan- sat together at a table. Carly had other friends, girly friends, that she sat with. As the boys talked sports, which Melissa usually joined in, she was thinking about what.
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