The voice. It came out of nowhere and was distinct and unrecognizable at the same time. The accent sounded almost European, Irish maybe? No more like the UK, or even Eastern Europe? I couldn’t place it. At times it seemed as if there was no accent or a mix of different ones. The mark of someone who was well traveled or perhaps unsure themselves of where they belonged. Knowing what I know now thought I guess some people just need to come off as enigmatic and kind of an asshole when you break it down. Either way, that voice, was linger in my mind for years. This person was one I would never forget. He wouldn’t let us.
“Cat got all your tongues, I said hello.”
We all turned and looked at the man dressed in all black with the metal chain that ran from belt to wallet. He had steel toed black boots and two silver rings on his left hand. He had slicked back black hair and a five o’clock shadow. His lower lip held a shiny silver stud at the edge. I’ll never forget what he looked like that night; but it was his eyes that I fixated on. They were a stone grey and he never seemed to blink. Every time he looked at me though, when he focused on me I could almost feel myself getting colder. It was the most uncomfortable I had ever felt in my life.
“Who the hell are you,” Derek shot back.
“Oh that’s not polite,” the man said as he looked over all of us. David couldn’t even make eye contact with him he just looked down. “I’m just a concerned citizen. I heard some yelling and thought I might check it out.”
He had a swagger about him. I knew now why all of the animals in the woods had gone quiet. The real predator had arrived. I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or not but he made one last sweep over us with his eyes before looking down at Brian’s body. His exaggerated expression seemed like he was auditioning for a role in a play. It was almost like he knew Brian was there from the beginning and he was just awaiting his opportunity to convincingly notice him.
“What have we here,” he said taking several steps closer to him, his left boot next to Brian’s lifeless head almost. “Who is this unfortunate soul?”
“Our friend,” Stan said. “He needs help,” stupidly.
“Oh he needs a bit more than that,” the man said and with his boot nudged Brian’s head roughly, causing it to fall and wave back and forth with two jarring movements.
“Hey!”
Derek reached out to push the man away from his friend, like he had done to me earlier. It took me a second to realize what had taken place. When Derek reached out to push the guy his hand was grabbed around the wrist and now Derek was down on one knee as the figure held his wrist tightly. We all stepped forward.
“Stop it!”
He didn’t listen to Stan’s command, “like I said, it’s all about manners boys.”
“Who are you,” David asked.
It hit me as I watched David try and interact with him. The dark clothes and pale skin, my mind shot back to the woods earlier that day. The creek wasn’t more than five minutes away from here if you knew where to go and that was where I had seen this man earlier. What was this guy’s deal?
“What do you want?”
He had no interest in answering my question, he just smiled. I was aware he knew more than he was saying, but the depth of the truth was unreal to me at that moment. Although I had made the connection of him being by the creek earlier that day I wouldn’t make the real leap of logic until much later. I looked around, trying to figure out where this guy came from. He took a step back from Brian’s body and let Derek’s hand go.
“You alright,” Stan asked Derek. He rubbed his hand and seemed to be shivering. It didn’t take much to tell that Derek was not alright.
“What did you boys go off and do huh?”
None of us offered an answer. His feet tread a circle around Brian’s body at a bit of a distance as he looked at each of us individually with a long glance.
“Alright, no one wants to talk,” he flourished with his hands. A gesture that again made me think this man believed he was on a stage, performing for us all. “I’ll take a stab at it.”
He reached behind him and smiled, “in short,” the item he produced from seemingly nowhere caused a bit of a shock in all of us “you fucked up.” His hand was gripped tightly around Derek’s wooden baseball bat. He swung it in a mock batting motion and we all saw the blood at the end of it.
“How did you,” Derek asked without thinking.
“Shouldn’t leave stuff like this lying around. Never know who will find it.”
He was cocky. He knew as much as we did about what happened, or at least it appeared so. He rubbed the handle of the bat with his hands tightly and then suddenly stopped like he realized he was doing something wrong. He simply stood up straight and offered Derek the bat by the bloody end. Derek snatched it away from the man and held it at his side. I could see it in Derek’s mannerisms, his body language. He was thinking that this guy could mean us harm, either physically or by the fact that he made it pretty clear that he knew what happened.
“So you said you’d do anything, did I hear that right?”
“What,” I asked with my voice being a bit squeaky and astonished.
“I heard four pour little souls offering up the world because they were scared.”
We were silent again for a moment, no one could speak. The figure of the man knealt back down by Brian’s body his hand gently touching his cheek and moving his face to a profiled position as he watched him.
“Makes you wonder what he would offer, being dead and all, when you his still living friends offer so much and you aren’t even the ones facing eternity just yet.”
“Dude, you need to get out of here,” Stan said with some sense of authority that I would later realize as him imitating his father.
“Is that right Stanley,” he asked. I’m not ashamed to admit it took me a split second longer than Stan to realize how bothered I should have been.
“How do you know my name?”
“Take too long to explain,” it didn’t sound like an insult, just a snide truth. “Naming is really complicated for people who can’t use it.”
We were confused. I noticed David moving closer to me, he was afraid. I couldn’t blame him. By his actions I thought he knew more than just Stan’s name, maybe more than names at all. What were the odds of this guy just coming out of nowhere right when this happened? My mind raced and my body moved without me thinking about it. I threw myself forward at Brian’s body and looked up at the man in all black.
“Can you help,” I asked quietly at first and then forced out a yell. “Can you help him or not?”
You’re always trained to not talk to strangers. To trust adults and find them when something is wrong, unless they’re trying to lure you into a van or offer you candy. People in uniforms are your friends apparently but right now, I was willing to accept help from anyone.
“Of course I can.” He said as he put a hand on David’s shoulder. “I mean, I had to come here anyway, but since I’m here. I can help.” He smiled and David shivered and backed away. He didn’t seem to mind the young boy’s reaction though. He just stepped up to Brian’s body and me almost laying over it. He looked down at me for a moment and then stepped over Brian’s body and once he had taken two steps he turned to face us all.
“Your friend died for a really stupid reason.”
Derek looked pissed at the stranger’s words, his hand gripped the baseball bat even tighter and his teeth clenched. Stan put a more reassuring hand on David’s shoulder and I slowly stood, trying to compose myself. I won’t lie, he said he could help, I was hopeful.
“I can help your friend though, but nothing comes for free.” He pointed at each of us one-by-one, “and I will need something from each of you, plus a little incentive for myself.”
“What,” I called out in frustration. “What do you need, just tell us.”
“Yeah,” Stan said. “Just tell us what you want us to do, if you can help him do it.”
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box that looked like some kind of fancy cigarette box. He flipped open the top and pulled a black cigarette from it. “Well,” he said pulling a lighter from his other pocket. “Your friend is all out of time, his years are over.” He lit the curette and took a long drag off of it. The odor was sweet, not like a normal cigarette. “So he’d need more.” The clove crackled at the end as he took another drag. In the silence the sound felt intrusive.
“What do you mean,” I asked the question but everyone else was saying it with their expression. I felt really helpless at this point, and this guy was making me feel as if the answer was right in front of my face, and I just couldn’t see it.
“You said you’d give up anything,” the cherry at the end lit up a bright orange as he took one final drag. “So, give up some of your time for him.” He snubbed the life of the flame out against the bark of a near-by tree. “Unless you all didn’t mean what you said.”
“No we did,” David yelled, admitting he was begging earlier.
“We’ll do whatever,” Derek said finally.
“Good,” the man in black licked his lips, tasting the traces of the cigarette on them. “Then you’ll all agree to give him what he needs?”
“Could you stop speaking in riddles,” Stan shouted. “This is important.”
“You’re damn right it is, this is business,” he paused, “but you all look willing.”
“Yes,” I pleaded again. “I’ll take his place.”
“Oh nothing that drastic,” he ran a hand through his jet black hair. “There would be no fun in that.” He said looking at me. Those grey eyes seemed so hollow and dead. I wasn’t one to cry much, but I could have right then. I’m not sure anyone would have blamed me. “You just need to shed a few years, offer them up to me and I’ll give them to your friend.”
“What,” Derek said disbelieving. “What do you mean?”
“You each have a set time that your life would end, that time can be,” he paused to think of the correct term, or at least a term we would find acceptable, “adjusted.”
“You can bring him back if we,” I paused. “What?”
David had already figured it out though, “if we give some of our life to him?”
“Fine, take what you need. Just bring him back.”
The man smiled. “I love people like you, so willing to give without thought of consequence. No I think we’ve established that this is,” he waved a hand over all of us in a grand gesture, “a group project after all. It’s how it began thus shall it continue.”
“You will each live to be old, plenty of time to do whatever you wish, accomplish all you desire.” He said sincerely. “I’m asking for four, no five…five years off of the end. Those years that you would have spent alone and dying anyway. You’d have just been in diapers or in a retirement home anyway. You’d be a burden either financially or physically on the families you raised that must then care for you.” He said these things as if even thinking about that stage of life disgusted him.
“Is this for real,” Derek wasn’t convinced. I’m not sure I could blame him.
“Just do it,’ I said. I saw Stan nod in agreement with me. Derek looked perplexed still but he nodded in agreement with helping Brian. David, David was afraid, rightfully, but he nodded as well.
“Patience,” he chided us as he seemed to be thinking about something, “five years each, four for your friend and one for me.”
“One for you,” Stan said raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, you didn’t think my services came for free did you?”
We didn’t reply. If this guy was for real, I guess he was right. We offered to give up almost anything and why shouldn’t there be some sort of fee past that.
“There are four of you, so he’ll live another sixteen years to the day.” He said like he was negotiating a contract or doing some mundane business routine that caused us all to sit in silent horror. “You’ll each die five years earlier, no negotiating, or refunds.” He smiled. “Like I said though, you’re getting the good end of this bargain.”
I looked at the others. I knew I was willing but were they, could I ask them to do this.
“What if,” I hesitated, I hate myself for it but I did. “What if I gave up all of it, I’ll give up all of the years.”
“As I said earlier young Jason,” I hated that he knew my name, it scared me even more. “Variety is the spice of life. I don’t want just one of you supple young things. You each have rich aspects of your young and potentially long lives.”
“Fine we’ll do it,” Derek answered for us, for the rest of them at least. “Just do it, if you can really do something and you aren’t just pulling our legs then do it now.”
“David, Stanley?” He asked in a condescending manner that just made me dislike him more. Stan just nodded and balled his fists up tight. David looked nervous, afraid, and a little more than unsure about his answer. He turned and looked at me.
“Say yes,” I said and to this day I think I made a mistake, at least with getting David to do it. I know he said no negotiations but there had to be a way for us to at least keep David out of it. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. I’ve thought about it a lot. I often wonder if we should have done it at all but I can never think about it without seeing David’s eyes look at me for the answer, he trusted me and I told him to say yes out of my selfish desire to get my best friend back.
“So it’s done,” he said. “Now just for the show.”
I didn’t know what he meant. I don’t think any of the others did either. He knelt down though and began scooping up the dirt and clay around him. He balled it all up in his hands until there was a prett sizable clump. After examining the dirt he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black object about the length of his fist. With a quick flutter of his wrist and the press of a button the switchblade popped out. I think we all instinctively took a step back, I know I did. We had no idea if this guy was certifiable. We weren’t even really in our right states of mind.
“Do I really need to explain this part?”
We just continued to look at him, unsure.
“Of course I do,” he sighed. “I miss the old days, truly I do.” He made a cutting motion along his hand without actually breaking the skin and then held his wrist over the small hand held pile of dirt. “See? Make sense?”
I heard David gasp slightly. He was so scared, he was trying to be brave but he was so scared. I was too but, this had to be done. I reached out and took the knife.
Derek motioned to stop me, “How do we know you’ll do what you say you will. This seems really fishy.”
“You boys gotta have faith,” he said with a wicked smile.
I looked at the others.
“We have to try, for Brian, so we can forget this night ever happened.” I was stupid to believe that but I did. If Brian came back because of what this man was about to do, we could just forget how stupid we had been, the mistake we made. One day we might even look back at this and laugh, isn’t that what everyone says when something goes horribly wrong?
---
I thought it best to lead by example. Taking the knife I held up my left hand and looked at it. This didn’t seem hard. It would just take a simple cut, quick and painless. I had never done this before though. I set the blade to my flesh and pressed in. The stinging sensation surprised me. I’m not sure why it did but my teeth clenched and I took a step back without realizing it. The wound opened up as the stinging persisted. The gash was small at first but opened up towards the bottom of my hand and the blood flowed out quicker than I thought it would.
The red droplets fell and as it became a small stream I held my hand over the dirt in the stranger’s hands. As soon as he looked satisfied with the sacrifice I quickly clenched my hand to stop the bleeding. My hand still hurt. I’ve often caught myself wondering if it was meant to hurt so long or just that my first intentional cut was just that jarring. I handed back the knife hesitantly but he motioned me to pass it on. David was next to me but I skipped over him and handed the weapon to Stan. I don’t think David minded, though it’d be his turn eventually.
“One down, three too go.”
Derek took the knife with an uneasy shake in his hand. An older version of this same man might have just as easily tried to attack the stranger over cutting himself. He didn’t though. He clung to the idea that if this stranger was telling the truth then he could most certainly help his friend. He looked at the knife and held up his left hand, placing the blade carefully to the epidermis. When he cut, he barely made a sound. If he felt more than a slight discomfort from it he didn’t let it show. He reached out to the pile of dirt the same as I had and let the essence that was to give our friend life flow freely for a few brief moments. He clenched his hand tightly to stop the blood and handed Stan the knife.
Stan took it and let the blade gleam off the light as he reflected. He had seen us do it and he sighed knowing what had to be done. His cut was the quickest. Within seconds his blood was sprinkled onto the pile of dirt. His eyes were locked with the stranger. I wasn’t sure how he could and not be unsettled by those eyes, that cocky gaze. He stared deep into the grey orbs though as he clenched his hand tightly. Anyone else might have thought he was getting ready to punch the man. There was anger in Stan’s eyes. I thought it was because he was angry that this man would demand something for saving someone’s life, especially to demand something so significant. It didn’t take much to see his anger. He was trying to keep that feeling going but he realized like I did that there was only one person left to contribute. His expression softened and he slowly handed the knife to David.
David’s hand was shaking as he reached out for the knife. His lip was almost quivering and I was pretty sure it wasn’t from the cold. He looked at his own reflection in the blade and seemed to take forever to move it towards his hand. When he finally did he took in two deep breaths, preparing himself before sliding the knife across his skin. Nothing happened. There was no flash of red or cutting and tearing of tissue. David hadn’t even cut hard enough to pierce the skin.
The stranger chuckled, “it’s alright lad, you ain’t made of much that is stern. You’re the brains of this operation.”
As if ushering him with words earlier wasn’t enough I stepped up and took David’s free hand. “I’ll help,” I told him as my other hand took the knife from his. He eyed me like a scared fawn who had been caught in a set of headlights for most of the night. I balanced the metal in my hand and made sure to try to make it as quick and painless as possible. The cut I made in David’s hand wasn’t as big as the rest of ours. I was trying to protect him. He still winced when it happened, his mouth gaped open for a moment. I moved his hand over to the now quiet wet clump in the strangers hand and squeezed tightly to make sure enough blood came out, I didn’t want to have to cut him again.
A part of me shivers now thinking of how un-sterile that knife probably was. Or maybe it wasn’t, the knife might have been more of a symbol than anything else really. This act that we had just performed was some type of ritual. There had to be a physical sacrifice with the actual act of giving up the parts of our lives.
The stranger watched us for a second before his hands began to move around the large sticky material in his hands. It took me a minute to realize he was mumbling something under his breath. To this day none of us knew what he was saying or if it was even in a real language. It wasn’t like it really threw up any red flags, I wasn’t even sure I had actually heard him say anything. I was mesmerized at the meticulous care he took squeezing and rolling the ball of mud and making sure that it was perfect. As he continued the ball seemed to get smaller and smoother. It was less than half of what it started out as and although Georgia is known for its red clay, this color red was much deeper and unblemished.
After double checking his work and making sure he was satisfied with it the stranger held the ball up to the moon and inspected it even a little bit further. He knelt down on one knee by Brian. I had a flash back of the stranger nudging him with his foot and wanted to intercept. This guy didn’t care for Brian, he wasn’t friends with him. We had come too far though. We had put all of our trust in him and our blood in his hands.
The stranger smiled as he placed a hand underneath Brian’s limp neck and propped his head up. The dead boy’s mouth hung open slightly but the man in black parted it further with his pinky finger on the hand that held the mud ball.
“Open wide for me,” he said to Brian in an odd almost uncomfortable tone. He looked up at us. “Happy thoughts children, here comes the fun part.”
We all looked down as the stranger began to force the ball he had created into Brian’s mouth. Though shrunken the ball was still pretty big so it had to be forced part the way down. It looked incredibly uncomfortable. Our savior smirked a bit at the side of his lips as he got it all the way in and didn’t have to listen to anyone’s objections. I’ve learned that the dead rarely object in a manner that you’ll ever actually have to hear. The odd thing was that once the ball was pushed far down into his throat the man removed his hand, but the ball did not stop moving. I could see it pushing down through the passageway, heading to his stomach.
I didn’t question it. I should have but this night had been so strange already, why bother. There was a pause as a hush fell over us all and was still over the area of the woods we were in. The deafening silence was antagonizing. The thought that we had just been the victims of some elaborate prank crossed my mind. David turned away, he couldn’t stand it.
“Well,” Stan lashed out. “Did you do it? Are you just screwing with us?”
“Patience,” the man said softly, “a word you’d do well to embrace.”
We watched again. I heard Derek mutter something about this being bullshit and watched him tighten his hand around the bat again. David finally turned back around. His cheeks were a bit more flush, tears probably. I didn’t just, I didn’t ask, and I didn’t dwell on it. I came close enough myself there was no room for me to break down David.
I think I was the first to notice Brian’s hand twitching. I thought it was just a natural thing, you always hear about how the body moves sometimes after it has been dead for a little bit. The second and third spasms made me question that though, their violent twitch moving the dirt and leaves around it now. The sound we heard next was terrifying. No one should ever have to hear a friend choking like that. His arm rose as a painful gurgling sound began. His eyes shot open but they were still rolled back in his skull and he obviously couldn’t breath.
I moved to help him but the stranger pushed me back, “something he has to do on his own.”
It was painful to watch, there wasn’t one amongst us that didn’t look horrified as he rolled over and started trying to vomit. Nothing came out at first, then the blood and large clumps of dirt. His fingers dug into the ground and he was crying in between every wheeze and hack as he bellowed up to the night sky. David turned away again and covered his mouth. I don’t remember if he threw up or not.
There was a moment of silence when I thought it was all over but soon the tumultuous hacking and spitting began again. Derek reached into his coat amidst the snacks and other things he had brought from my shed. He produced a canned soda and popped it open, trying to hand it down to Brian.
“Wait,” the stranger called out with a booming authority in his voice we had not yet heard.
Derek did stop. Brian gave one final loud cry that I now equate to a woman being in labor as he forced out one finally last chunk of bloodied dirt. This one was different however, it shown a deep maroon color and was perfectly smooth almost like the larger one the man made Brian swallow. He motioned for Derek to continue whispering “Now” as he reached down and picked up the small red sphere that was about the size of a gumdrop or other piece of candy.
Derek offered Brian the soda hesitantly.
“Brian,” I called out softly, wanting an answer so badly.
Stan moved up and took the soda from Derek. He tilted Brian’s chin up. Brian was on all fours and still coughing pretty consistently. Stan took a moment to angle the soda and then began to pour it down into his mouth. Brian choked a little on it. Some of the soda fell from the sides of his mouth. This was a strange feeling, to be so elated that he was moving and alive but at the same moment to see how weak and hurt Brian was.
Brian fell to his knees and took the soda from his friend drinking it down quickly as more of the soda fell on his chin and shirt. David finally looked back at Brian, “he’s okay.” He mouthed as the stranger looked at me.
“He’ll be fine, just might not remember what happened.” He reached out and took my hand, placing the small red orb in my hand. It felt cold and alien as it rolled across my palm. “You need to give him that,” he said sternly. “I’d say make sure he holds on to it but that isn’t the issue, he’ll want to though.”
I nodded but I had so many questions as I looked down at it. I closed my fist tight to make sure I didn’t lose it and when I looked up the stranger as he lit another cigarette. Brian had David, Stan, and Derek helping him up slowly, making sure he was okay. I turned back to the stranger.
“So he’ll live,” I asked but it seemed rhetorical.
“Sixteen years, your gift not mine. But I do appreciate what you gave me.”
“Who are you anyway?”
“Remember what I said about how important naming is?” I nodded but wasn’t sure I followed. “It’ll be better when you figure it out for yourself.”
I watched as the figure turned and walked through the woods back the way he had come; his dark clothes soon melding into the night. I saw him turn and look back over his shoulder. He knew I was watching him. I kept on doing so until I saw the last hint of the fire from the cigarette fade into nothingness. I stared at the eternal night for a second longer, half expecting more to happen.
I guess in the back of my mind I always knew what his name was, from the moment I saw him work. I never wanted to admit to it though or let it really sink in. Something about admitting it to myself always scared me, and at the age I was then, it was just easier for me to kind of let the fog roll in and push that particular memory out of the way and obfuscate it; until I was ready to face it again.
Brian’s cough shook me back to reality and it hit me. Noise. I could hear things moving around us again and the animals weren’t afraid or hiding anymore. It was if time had temporarily stopped around us for that peculiar encounter. David was shaking. It was cool but not that cold. He was still afraid and he’d continue shaking for most of the night.
“Brian,” I asked to him again.
This time he made eye-contact with me again and nodded slightly before coughing again. His chest shook with a violent thud from each cough as he looked down and tried to tap the soda can once more for anything left. He tossed it to the side and it made a hollow clunk against the ground.
“What happened,” It was the first thing he said.
I wanted to run over and hug him. I had been so worried. I was stuck in this false sense of elation because at the time I wasn’t thinking about the whole picture, I lived in the now. Derek and Stan helped him up to his feet slowly, carefully; like a new-born child.
“How do you feel?”
“I,” he regarded my question carefully, “I feel like I’m going to be sick.” That’s when he threw up. I couldn’t help but feel for him.
We began walking back under the bashful eye of the moon. In the moments that the stranger was there it felt like even she had taken time off so that she didn’t have to witness what took place. Our stride was slow and somber on the way back to my shed. Derek stopped and looked at the bloodied bat in his hands. He looked off away from us and at that time I had no clue how sinister the thoughts were growing in his mind.
David hadn’t said a word since we left the clearing. He was tired and cold and at one point almost bumped into a tree he didn’t notice. He was off in his own little world of solitude trying to repress everything he had seen. I knew he wouldn’t sleep at all that night, and I felt bad that I couldn’t help him. David had always been picked on through-out his life and as a result of that he lived in his own fantasy world of books, role playing, and computer games. Now some of that fantasy had come true and I wasn’t sure that he could handle it.
Stan and I were talking to Brian, trying to fill him in. Surprisingly he didn’t have as many questions as you would have thought. The last thing he remembered was sneaking into the house, other than a few images that he mentioned but couldn’t fully explain. We filled in the gaps as best we could but when it came to his death and magic rebirth, we tried to keep it simple. It was hard explaining the details of something that you didn’t fully understand, even if you were there yourself. His pace progressively slowed the more we explained to him.
“So a guy dressed in all black made you all bleed onto some dirt.”
“Yeah, after being kind of an ass about the whole thing.”
Stan’s answer was accurate but it seemed a little too jovial for my taste. I was mentally exhausted because of the events tonight and things were still milling around in my mind to fully work themselves out. Stan seemed the most composed out of all of us but I still felt a sense of anger from him. “Five years,” he had said as we first left. “I wonder what I would have done with those years.” Stan seemed a little more concerned about that then doing the math to realize that Brian would be the first to feel the effects of the loss of years.
“So you guys each gave me five years,” Brian asked.
“Four each, we had to pay him one each for doing it.”
I wanted to chime in but Stan seemed to have the explanation under control. It was slowly sinking in. At least I thought it was. Brian repeated some of his questions but Stan and I didn’t mind. I couldn’t imagine what he must have been feeling them.
“Sixteen years,” he said trailing off a couple of times.
It had to be a lot to take in. As I walked back the last few yards I felt sick. I needed to go to the bathroom, I was about to throw up I think. All and all I just wanted to crawl in a hole and pretend this never happened. I stopped as I saw the shed coming up through the trees. Had we just stayed there tonight and not gone out. I shouldn’t have let Derek, Stan, and Brian…who I am kidding, in the end we all wanted to go. I put my hand up on a tree and waited for the queasy feeling to pass. The others passed me and walked in.
I entered a moment later. Everyone was sitting down in their usual spots. I couldn’t help but note the odd absence of a movie or video game playing on the old big television my dad and I had lugged down there almost two years ago. Everyone had a drink or snack in their hand and you could say that was the reason it was so quiet but I knew it wasn’t. We sat in that silence for several long moments before I grabbed a drink and popped the tab on the can.
“Is everyone okay?”
Another long absence of sound hit before David spoke up.
“I’m gonna lay down,” he said finishing off the soda and standing.
“Shouldn’t we talk about what happened,” Stan suggested before looking around at each of us. Brian nodded in agreement with him, probably still a bit unsure of just what occurred himself. “I mean, I wasn’t even sure it actually happened at first, I thought I was asleep or something.”
“Nah,” Derek said. “It happened, but no one would believe us if we told them it did.”
“What have we done,” David suggested. “We shouldn’t have done anything without our parents.” That’s when it happened. He started to tear up and ran for the door but Derek caught his arm.
“I know this is tough,” I told him and stood to comfort him. I didn’t want him to think he was trapped. “We’ll get through this, but we have to work together.”
I meant every word of it. I couldn’t figure out exactly how it was going to happen right that second but I knew it would. As long as we stuck together we could do anything. We could weather any storm, as long as we had each other. You can say it’s corny, I wouldn’t blame you. The truth was thought that at the time, I really believed that.
The rest of the night didn’t feel right. David and I went out and talked outside and he cried the whole time even though he was trying not to. When we came back in I put on a movie so that it would take our minds off things, or at least attempt to. I’ve heard that the younger you are the easier it is to bounce back from traumatic events. I’m not sure how much stock I put into that. I think some people are just more capable of dealing with things than others.
David eventually fell asleep in his sleeping bag. Derek passed out on the couch. Stan tried eventually but he couldn’t sleep and knew it’d be time to leave soon. Brian, Brian just stared at the television. I tried to talk to him but he said he didn’t want to talk about it.
“I just want to go take a shower, get some clean clothes.”
“As soon as my mom leaves with Stan,” I didn’t want to risk waking her up and arousing suspicion.
I couldn’t sleep either though. The three of us just stayed up and sat in silence until Stan checked the time. He placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder and gave him a sincere look.
“I’ll see you around soon as I can.”
Stan went up the hill and met my mom. She was surprised she didn’t have to come down to get him, with good reason. I was glad she didn’t come down though, I’m not sure what my face would have betrayed about me right then. It wasn’t just a mood. I wanted to tell someone, to tell an adult. I wanted my mom to come swoop in and fix everything and make it right.
Stan told her we were all asleep and ok. She was in a hurry, having to drop him off as well, and didn’t come down to check herself. When I was sure that she was gone we went up to the house, leaving Derek and David to finish sleeping it off. Brian took a shower and I got him something to wear while we washed his dirtied clothes. I made myself a snack but as soon as I started to eat it I suddenly wasn’t hungry, the sight of the food making me sick. Brian came back in from the bathroom, showered and in the clothes I gave him as I was throwing the rest of the away.
“I’m sorry, I should have asked,” I said holding up the plate
“I’m not hungry,” he replied almost lifelessly. I couldn’t really argue with him.
Soon Derek and David wandered up from the shed. When they reached the house Derek talked about not getting any sleep and the physical pain in his neck. I concurred and soon enough Brian joined in the conversation. Lastly David chimed in a word or two and before long we were all talking like normal. It may have been some kind of faux “realness” but it worked for the time.
Before long Derek’s dad came to pick up Derek and David. Brian and I went in my room and sat just flipping through the channels, occasionally commenting on things we saw on screen.
“Is everything going to be alright?”
His question caught me off guard as I was preparing my comment about the Victoria’s Secret add on television. It reminded me of Dana. She could have been in that ad. When he asked that though I knew what I had to say.
“Of course man,” I mustered sincerity into my words. Sixteen years was a long time, and we could figure something out. Maybe if we could get more people involved, everyone give him just a year or two. That guy said he liked variety. Maybe the sincerity wasn’t so unfounded.
It wasn’t too long before mom got back from her meeting and she took us out to lunch. We ate chicken and talked about the fall festival at the church and glossed over the rest of our night. Mom was talking about her meeting. She was stressed at work and thinking about taking an early retirement. If I needed another reason not to tell her what really happened that was it. I couldn’t pile more and more onto her, especially something that was our fault.
What stuck out to me, but thankfully not as much to Brian, was what mom said as we were finishing up.
“I saw in the paper that Mr. Hopkins died,” she said throwing her trash and ours onto the tray, stacking it up neatly. “It was just odd because they found him not too far from our house. He was back there by the creek fishing when he had a heart attack. I’m glad you didn’t go back there yesterday.” She stood to go toss the trash away. I didn’t respond as everything slowly connected in my mind and I felt that familiar cold chill run down my spine before I could stand to leave. I should really trust my instincts more than I do.
After lunch mom dropped Brian off at home. She was quiet for a few minutes but I could tell she wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure what. Had we let it slip or acted odd? I wasn’t sure but my mother seemed to have an intuition about these things.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes ma’am,” I lied.
“You and Brian didn’t get in another fight did you,” she asked with a pause, “or anything like that?” She was feeling around in the dark.
I was so relieved she didn’t ask something else. Honestly though how could she have known what actually happened.
“No,” that was true, we didn’t fight. “Just didn’t get a lot of sleep.” Two truths should make up for one lie, right?
That was the end of that thankfully. That Saturday night we had a family dinner which gave me an excuse to lock myself in my room with my younger cousins and play video games. Sunday morning I told my mom I was really sick, that I thought the food last night upset me. I stayed home. Usually I’d be so excited to go see my friends and get out of the house but not that day. I stayed in bed most of Sunday and only came out to eat. I read some and listened to music, I didn’t feel like doing much else.
I wasn’t able to miss school on Monday though. My mother was pretty strict about her “No fever, no staying home” policy. To say I was feeling some trepidation towards seeing everyone back at school would be an understatement. Much to my surprise though as I entered the lunchroom things felt tense for just a moment before the guys started talking. We joked about class, schoolwork, things we had seen on television, and talked about movies coming out we wanted to see. Things seemed, well, back to normal as best they could at least. Maybe my worrying all weekend was for nothing.
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