Detour, Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places. But I do own the Clemm family.

Bosco rolled over onto his side with a groan, trying to figure out why his alarm clock sounded like a rooster crowing. Slowly opening his eyes, he began to panic when he didn't recognize the dimly lit room. Propping himself up on an elbow, he winced in pain. Looking around again, he spotted a little sandy haired boy, dressed in overalls, sitting in a chair beside the bed, bare feet dangling, watching him intently.

Suddenly, the little boy jumped down from the chair and headed to the door. "Pa! Pa Clemm! He's awake!"

"Pa Clemm?" Bosco muttered to himself, pushing himself upright in the bed. Looking down at the quilt that covered him, he began to remember the plane…the crash…the trek through the woods…the farmer…the…..turpentine?

"Well, it's about time you woke up. You mite near slept for a whole day." Pa Clemm's voiced boomed in the tiny room. "How you feelin, son?"

Bosco looked up at Pa Clemm in confusion. 'How am I feeling?' Bosco wanted to tell this man just how he was feeling. He hurt. His right arm and left leg were still burning, from the turpentine he supposed. And he was as confused as ever. He felt like he'd fallen out of a spaceship onto another planet. But all he managed to say was "Okay, I guess."

Bosco looked down and played nervously with the edge of the quilt. "Where am I?"

"You're at Clemm Creek." Pa Clemm replied.

"In Mississippi?" Bosco hesitantly asked.

"The one and only." Pa replied with a chuckle.

"What time is it?" Bosco questioned.

"It's almost 6:30. Grandma's holdin breakfast for you."

Bosco looked up in surprise. "It's 6:30 in the morning? Can I use your phone? I need to call for help? I don't know if anyone has found the plane yet." Bosco sputtered.

Pa Clemm looked at Bosco with concern. "Well, we ain't got no phone. Never saw much use for one myself. And as for this plane, Rebel and I searched these here woods high and low all afternoon yestedy and there ain't no plane here. Rebel is the best trackin dog I've ever had and if there'd been a plane, he woulda found it."

"Look, Mister." Bosco was beginning to get annoyed. "I'm here because my plane crashed yesterday. In these woods. I didn't just fall out of the sky. And this is exactly why you need a phone! IT'S CALLED AN EMERGENCY!" Bosco's voice rose higher with every sentence.

Pa Clemm put his hands up, in an effort to calm Bosco down. "Now look, son. There ain't no need to yell. I don't know what happened to ya. But I know I didn't find no plane."

Bosco sighed; he didn't know why this man couldn't understand the seriousness of this. "Look, I'm sorry. Could you just take me into town? Let me talk to the local police? Maybe they can help me."

"I'd be glad too, 'cept we're 40 miles from no where. And our oldest boy Herman has the only truck that runs. He's goin to the agricultural college to get some book learnin and don't come home but twiced a month. Just left yestedy, in fact."

'Unbelievable….this is unreal….this is not real… I am not here….' Bosco ranted to himself.

"What's your name, boy?" Pa Clemm asked him.

Bosco was snapped back to the conversation. "Um…Maurice. Maurice Boscorelli."

"Boska...what? That sounds like a Yankee name. I think I'll just call you Maurice." Pa Clemm replied.

"I'm from New York."

"New York eh…that explains a lot. Well anyway, Mr. Maurice Boska..whatever, we'd be glad for ya to stay with us, until we can getcha into town. Of course, once you're feelin a mite better, I'll expect you to earn your keep. But for now, you can help Junior and Wanda Sue with some of their chores. Anyway, Grandma Clemm will be gettin upset if we make her wait breakfast much longer. Ma washed some of your clothes and found some of Herman's things for ya to wear. They may be a mite big, but they'll have to do." He pointed to a pile of clothes on the dresser. "She's gotta try to mend your britches. So why don't you get dressed and come join us."

With that, Pa Clemm was out the door, leaving Bosco to shake his head in disbelief. Deciding that he would just have to play along for now, until he could figure out how to get out of this mess, he slowly began to climb out of bed. "Ahhhhh" he groaned. Placing his hand on the bedside stand to push himself up, he noticed the knitting needle lying there. He picked it up and felt the cold metal between his fingers, trying to make sure that it was real. 'I'm not crazy. And you're proof of it.'