The story so far ... Ben and his friend Nate are taking an early bike ride in their rural neighborhood to get in shape for the upcoming soccer season. They decide to ride down a new road. The boys stop at a full clothesline near a farmhouse. The specific clothes hanging gave clues to the boys about the residents. One slogan "look back" sticks in Ben's mind as they ride home. He approaches his driveway and "looks back." He sees a car in the ditch. Wondering if someone is hurt, he timidly approaches the car ...



I slowly rode up to the car, afraid of what I might see. The car rested at a 45-degree angle in the ditch, and a fender was dented where the speed limit sign had broken off. I stopped and looked around. But I didn't see anyone. Slowly, I approached the car, my hand ready to cover my eyes if I saw something awful. I was scared. What if there was a lot of blood? Or an actual dead person?

I peeked inside the window and let out a deep breath. The car was empty. I started walking around the car looking for a person on the ground. I was very relieved there wasn't a dead body. There was no sign of the driver. "Hey, anybody here?" I called out.

"What do you mean? Are you blind?" An older girl with a phone to her ear, walked toward me from across the road. She was wearing a red summer dress and red shoes, holding a purse. She didn't look hurt at all. Ending her call, she dropped her arm and sighed. The girl looked ready to cry.

"Hey, are you okay? Need any help?" I called out.

"What do you think?" she said sarcastically. "I'm going to be late to work and will probably get fired." She sounded angry. "And my dad is going to kill me. There's a huge dent in the fender."

"But at least you're not hurt. You could've been dead."

"Thanks," she rolled her eyes, "Just what I needed to hear." She examined the damaged fender. "I tried to drive it out, but the wheels just spun."

"I can't help you with your dad, but I can probably get my neighbor to pull your car out with his tractor. He's just up at the next farm."

She smiled weakly. "That would be great. Thanks... ah... what's your name?"

"Ben Manchester." I turned to look at the car. "How did you end up in the ditch?"

She looked irritated by my question and quickly put her phone in her purse. "Listen, could you please just go get your neighbor? I really got to get to work."

I took off toward Lehman's just beyond our driveway, hoping he'd still be home. Jack and his dad John ran a good-sized dairy operation; and he was always very busy, but even more so in the summer with all the fieldwork.

What a coincidence that I happened to look back up Rockway Road. Otherwise I never would've seen the car in the ditch. Then I remembered the words on the T-shirt that had stuck in my head from the clothesline: Look back. Was it a message to me?

Luckily when I knocked, Jack answered the door. He was always dressed in the very same pair of coveralls with a patch on the right knee. Behind him, a little face with curly red hair peaked out. "Hi Benny." Rosie was Jack's youngest daughter. I reached out and patted her head. Mom often helped out with baby-sitting, we all did, since Mrs. Lehman had some important job in the city and had to work a lot.

"There's a girl in the ditch up by Rockway Road. I don't think she's hurt, at least not very much. But her car is stuck, and she's late for work."

Mr. Lehman grabbed his hat, "Okay, Ben. I'll get her out with the tractor." He picked out a set of keys from a pegboard with several sets hanging from the pegs and put on a seed cap with sweat stain like waves on either side.

"Do you need me to help?" I was getting real hungry and was anxious to get home and eat.

"No, I can do it, but I'd need you to watch Rosie until I get back."

As I headed home an hour later, I thought over the whole incident again. Was it just a coincidence that I only noticed the words, look back on the clothesline? And then I looked back, and I saw a car accident and was able to help the girl. Was the clothesline some kind of message board? I laughed and said, "That's ridiculous."

Mom was already off to work when I got home. She'd left a note listing a couple chores for the day: Pick the beans, mow front lawn, vacuum downstairs. She gave me jobs every day while she was at work. Mostly, they took an hour or two.

Our cat Goldie walked into the kitchen and rubbed against my legs. I'd saved her from death last fall when Mom hit her with the car. I insisted we take the kitty to the vet even though Mom figured she wouldn't make it. The doc fixed her up, and now she's a fat and healthy cat. I scratched behind her ears and she started to purr.

Conner raced down the stairs, his hair plastered down from the shower. "Get outta the way, kid. I gotta eat fast and get to work." Now a senior in high school, Conner was always in a hurry. Between sports and his friends, girls too, I hardly ever saw him. He filled a huge bowl with cereal, dumped a couple spoons of sugar, and poured on half the milk. He slobbered it down while looking at his phone.

Grandma drove up. While Mom worked during the summer, Gram spent the days at our house. Not really baby-sitting, just there in case something came up. She told me I was good company, and much better than sitting alone at her house.

"Hi boys," she set down her purse. "Getting a late start, Conner?" He kissed the top of her head and raced out, leaving his bowl half full of milk on the table.

All day, I kept thinking about the clothesline full of clothes, lots of shirts with lots of words. But only two caught my attention: look back. And then I looked back up Rockway Road and saw the car in the ditch. Was it a message for me, or just coincidence?

The only way to find out was to go back and see if there was a new message for me on the very same clothesline.