The Lookout Mountain Tunnel
by Randy Newcomb
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I don't know why Jimmy and I took Jesse Connor's dare to go through the Lookout Mountain Tunnel. It sure wasn't easy to get to, especially in the middle of a cold November night. We had to make it past Old Man Sylva's six hound dogs.

Right behind Old Man Sylva's yard was the old railway bridge that crossed Dillsboro Creek. When you looked over the side of the bridge, all you could see was the dark, slimy water about four feet below. We didn't even know for sure if trains still used this track. If one did come, that water sure looked colder and slimier than either of us could stand to think about. The bridge, though, was nothing compared to the tunnel. Five steps down the track into the tunnel and you couldn't see your hand right in front of you. If we turned back, Jesse would tell everyone we were chicken. He would know if we didn't make it, too. We were to pick up something at the other end of the tunnel and bring it to school.

We were trying to figure out what he had left there when we saw the light. It came right down the middle of the track in our direction. Jimmy says he heard a train whistle, but we found out later that the end of the tunnel had been blocked for years.

Well, guess what? That water was just as bad as we'd imagined. Worse still were the chicken noises our friends made when we showed up at school without Jesse's proof. But never fear. Jimmy and I are going to get even with Jesse. See, we've got this plan. . .

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