Blood in the Woods Read online

  “Because you were all the way down the street where you weren’t supposed to be?”

  “I swear to you, Momma. I’m telling you the God’s honest truth,” I protested.

  I was now feeling like I was explaining myself to a court judge instead of to my own mother. I knew I was in the wrong for being down the street so far, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t like I was the one who killed those calves.

  “Well, I gave our phone number to the police, just in case they need any more information. I told them everything you told me, so don’t be surprised if they stop by the house to ask you a few questions. You didn’t forget to tell me anything, did you?”

  “I told you everything, Momma,” I promised.

  “And you didn’t vandalize anything?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t break anything?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t set anything on fire?”

  “No!” I yelled.

  “Good,” Momma concluded, trial over.

  I saw the worry leave her face almost instantly after that last question, and that let me know she believed me. I stood up from the steps and stretched out my back. It felt like I had been sitting in an interrogation room for hours on end, defending myself against a crime I didn’t commit. Momma walked up behind me, placed her hand on my shoulder and leaned forward like she was about to tell me a secret.

  “Did you or Justin see anyone else in the woods?” Momma asked me.

  Oh shit, were the words that almost came out of my mouth, but luckily, I caught them at the last second. I had totally forgotten to tell her about Justin hearing footsteps right before we heard the branch break. I began to open my mouth to tell her, but I suddenly realized that it was probably just the dumb kid’s imagination; it had freaked me out for damned sure when he told me, and I could only imagine how Momma was going to react if I told her. I looked up into Momma’s eyes and decided to tell her a little white lie. After all, I hadn’t heard any footsteps, and neither of us actually saw anyone.

  “No, Momma. It was only me and Justin in there – no one else,” I told her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Warning

  “We’re fucking done for, guys! The goddamned police found the trailer and hauled it out of the woods two hours ago! We need to get the fuck out of town fast!” yelled the man with rotten breath as he burst into the back bedroom of the house.

  The deep-voiced man was sitting at the edge of the bed, receiving a blowjob from the woman who had assaulted Amanda. She pulled his stiff penis out her mouth and let it fall between his legs, even though it was still fully erect.

  “What the hell did you just say?” she spat, wiping the excess saliva from her mouth.

  “They found the trailer in the woods – some fucking kids found the damned thing and went to the cops about it.”

  “How the fuck do you know some kids found it, Scott?” the woman asked.

  “I went back there to look for my knife – I left it out there several nights ago.”

  “So why didn’t you try to stop them from getting away?”

  “I was too far back in the woods. I couldn’t get to them fast enough.” There was a short pause, “I’m sorry, Rebecca,” the man – Scott – said.

  “Did they see you, Scott?” Rebecca asked him.

  “I don’t know, but I think they heard me rustling around in the bushes.”

  “You asshole!” Rebecca yelled at him. “You risked getting us caught just because you wanted to go back for a fucking knife?! And then you let some stupid kids find the trailer and then get away!”

  “It’s not my fucking fault, Rebecca! They found the trailer on their own, and then they took off like bottle rockets before I could get to them. If I had caught those little shits, trust me, we wouldn’t be in the predicament we’re in now.”

  “But you didn’t, Scott. You didn’t get them – and if we get caught, I swear, I’ll cut your throat before they take me away,” Rebecca threatened him, her cold eyes that seemed to reach deep into Scott’s soul piercing him.

  “I’d like to see you try, you fucking bitch!” Scott retorted with teasing laughter.

  “Shut up!” yelled the deep-voiced man as he rose up off the bed and pulled up his pants. “We’re not going to get caught. They’re just kids, and I’m sure they’re scared out of their minds right now. I bet what they saw today will keep them out of the woods for a while. Now Scott, are you sure they didn’t see you?”

  “I’m positive they didn’t. I think when they heard me it spooked them. I mean, they took off really fast, they didn’t even look back,” Scott stated.

  “Good,” said the deep-voiced man. “Don’t worry about the cops; all they have is a trailer filled with dead calves. How is that possibly going to link them to us?”

  “You’re right,” Scott said, calming down, “they don’t have shit on us.”

  “Exactly. So everyone just needs to calm down.”

  The deep-voiced man walked over to the right side of the bed and picked his shirt up from off the floor. He shook it off, placed it over his head and pulled it down into place.

  “What are we going to do about the kids?” Rebecca asked. “Do we know who they are?”

  “Were they boys or girls, Scott?” asked the deep-voiced man.

  “Boys,” Scott told him.

  “What did they look like?”

  “One was sort of thick, with black hair that went down below his ears. The other one was real skinny, with braces, I think. Shit, I wish I would have followed the bastards home...”

  “No need to worry. I think I know where one of them lives.”

  The room fell silent as all three stood in the bedroom deep in thought. Rebecca walked around the bed and placed her hand on the deep-voiced man’s shoulder.

  “What are you going to do, baby?” she whispered.

  The man gave her a chilling grin that consumed his entire face and asked, “Did you end up finding your knife, Scott?”...............

  CHAPTER TEN

  COMFORT OF MY OWN HOME: 1990

  It was around 11:30 at night, and I was sitting on the couch with Momma, watching Meatballs. I was still trying hard to erase everything that I’d seen out there in the woods, when something crashed into the side of our trailer.

  The trailer shifted from side to side, and we jumped with fright, grabbing hold of the couch as tight as we could. It sounded to me like someone had thrown a bowling ball up against the backside of our home – where the playroom was. I reached over and squeezed Momma’s hand, looking deep into her eyes for reassurance. She pulled me in closer and wrapped her arms tightly around me, tighter than ever before.

  “What the hell was that, Jody?”

  “I don’t know, Momma, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m scared too, but I need you to sit still and be quiet,” Momma said. She stood up off the couch, walked over to the window, flung it open as hard as she could and stuck her head out into the darkness.

  “Put your head back in, Momma, put your head back in!” I pleaded.

  “Who’s there?” Momma yelled into the night.

  THWACK – THWACK

  Something struck the opposite side of the trailer, next to the front door. For a second I thought I heard footsteps running on the stairs, but before I could be sure, another hit rocked the trailer.

  “Get the phone off the wall and bring it to me!” Momma demanded.

  “I can’t move, Momma! I’m scared – I’m too scared!” I wailed.

  At this point, I began to cry, and that must have pushed Momma’s adrenaline through the roof. “Go away, damn it! I’m calling the police right now!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

  I then heard footsteps coming down our hall and as I looked up, I saw Hunter standing there, crying and shaking in terror. “Momee, someone is scatching on my wendo,” my kid brother mumbled, which sent me into a total panic; my breathing became heavy and I began to feel li
ghtheaded, and the room felt as if it was spinning uncontrollably around me. Momma ran over to Hunter, scooped him up and brought him over to me on the couch as yet more hits struck our home. She then ran across to the phone, but before she could pick it up, something sharp was scraped across the side of our trailer. It made a loud, screeching noise, as if Freddy Krueger himself was slowly, deliberately dragging his glove alongside the thin, metal wall.

  “Go the fuck away, damn it!” Momma shrieked as I watched her fingers struggle to dial 911.

  Several more hits came to the sides of our trailer, rocking it like a canoe in whitewater.

  “Jody, I’m scared,” Hunter whispered to me.

  At that very instant, I knew I had to be strong for my family; I had to protect them from whoever was out there doing this. There was no way I was letting anyone in my family get hurt, and at that moment my fear seemed to dissipate. I felt ready to take on whatever it was that was lurking out there in the darkness.

  I pushed Hunter away from me and I scrambled off the couch and headed for the front door. I wrapped my hand around the knob, twisted it and pulled the door wide open.

  “No, Jody!” Momma yelled, her ear stuck to the phone.

  I peered out into the darkness, and suddenly someone ran into our trailer knocking me to the floor as they entered. My back hit the floor hard, and the air rushed out of my lungs like steam leaving an engine. I gathered myself, looked up from the floor and saw Pepaw standing there with a shotgun.

  “Thank God, Daddy! Oh my God – thank you!” Momma said, and began to cry.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, Sissy. Hang up the phone. Everything is going to be okay,” Pepaw reassured.

  Momma sat down next to me and Hunter on the couch, as Pepaw ventured back into the darkness to check out the trailer. My little heart was still beating like a racehorse, even though all the craziness had stopped – or at least we hoped it had.

  Now all I wanted to know was who the hell had been beating and shaking the shit out of our home, and why. It couldn’t possibly have been kids. I mean, Jack and I were the only ones who terrorized this area, but even we weren’t strong enough to shake an entire trailer. And so I kept on replaying the whole event over again, wondering why someone would try to scare us like this.

  Momma scooted closer to Hunter and I and rubbed her hands on our knees, trying to reassure us it was all over now. I glanced over at Hunter and saw that he was falling asleep and thought to myself, I wish I could go to sleep like that, but knew that there was no way in hell I was getting to bed anytime soon.

  I heard footsteps coming up the front porch again, and I turned nervously to watch the door. Pepaw came in, this time with no shotgun, and made his way to the kitchen table. He grabbed one of the chairs, pulled it back and sat himself down on it. “Whoever it was is gone now. There’s nobody out there anymore,” he said.

  “Thank God. Did you find anything outside, Daddy?” Momma asked.

  “Well, it looks like something sharp was scraped along the side the trailer. It’s a pretty deep scratch, and it goes almost all the way down. I don’t know for sure what they used, but to me it looks like it was done by a hunting knife,” Pepaw stated. “Now, Sissy, do you have any idea why someone would want to do this to you?”

  “No.”

  “Has Jody or Jack damaged anyone’s property around here lately?” Pepaw asked.

  “I don’t think so. He better not have done something like that!” Momma lashed out. She was giving me the evil eye, and I actually had to start thinking if Jack and I had torn up anybody’s property recently. About a week before school had let out, we’d snuck up to old man Nathan’s house, which was down the street a ways, and wrote the word SHIT on his front door with some spray paint we had found in a ditch. I think Jack even squeezed out the word DICK on the side of the old guy’s van just before we took off.

  Then, just the other day, we stole some people’s mail out their mailbox and threw it into the woods so they wouldn’t be able to find it. But no one had seen us, or at least I thought no one had at the time. You see, Jack and I were pretty damned good at covering our tracks and getting away with vandalism and all sorts of other stunts. We had mastered the art of lying at a very early age, and half the people we told the lies to actually believed us. My head thumped with thinking so hard, as I tried to recall all the destructive shit Jack and I had done over last couple of months.

  Then, like a bolt of lightning to my brain, I recalled one particular incident.

  ***

  Late one afternoon, about a month ago, Jack and I happened to stumble upon some old smoke bombs stored in his Dad’s shed that had been left over from the New Year. I have no clue how we came across the things, but we had, and we knew just what to do with them. Jack ran inside his house and came out a few minutes later brandishing a pack of his Mom’s matches that he’d taken from the small drawer under the microwave.

  I was so excited about the whole thing, and couldn’t contain myself as I started jumping up in the air and yelling Cowabunga! like I was one of the Ninja Turtles. Jack laughed as he picked his red and silver bike off the ground, throwing his legs over it like he was mounting a horse. I quit jumping up and down like a retard and bent over to pick up my bike, which had no damned brakes. We jetted out from the driveway and took a left onto Rhine Road as we made our way toward Mr. Rhine’s driveway. Then about halfway there, we decided to turn around and head back to the Oaks subdivision where there was a kid Jack and I couldn’t stand; he was to be our new target.

  “You think they’re gonna shit their pants when they look in the mailbox?” Jack asked as we rode down the street.

  “Oh, yeah. They’re going to shit all right. It’s not every day the mail in your mailbox turns blue, red, or green. It’s going to be funny as hell,” I giggled.

  “We can’t get caught, though. Mrs. Ansen already hinted to my mom that she thought she saw us stealing those flower pots from the Greely’s house.”

  “How the hell did she see us? I thought we got away with that.”

  “I guess not, but anyways, let me finish –” Jack said, “Momma said if she catches me doing that stuff, I’ll be grounded from playing with you – forever.”

  I could tell Jack was serious. The color in his face drained a little once he’d said it.

  “There’s no way they can keep us from playing with each other. We’re best friends!” I spat out.

  “I know... I know,” Jack said and stared down at the pavement.

  “So let me guess. You don’t want to do this, then?” I asked him.

  “I do, Jody. It’s just that I don’t want us to get caught. We’re best friends. I don’t want to get grounded from you. That would really suck.”

  “I know it would,” I said.

  I looked up the road and saw a broken glass bottle on the side. Some jackass must have thrown it out the window on their way home from a wonderful night of drinking and driving.

  “Stop up there by the glass, Jack.”

  “What for?’

  “Just stop up there,” I said.

  As we rolled up to the bottle, Jack braked and I put my feet down Fred Flintstone style to stop myself. We got off our bikes, walked them over to the side of the street and laid them down. I made my way over to the smashed bottle and picked up a nice-sized piece of glass. Returning to Jack, I extended my hand to him.

  “Why are you giving me a piece of glass?” Jack asked me, nonplussed.

  “Just take it.”

  “Why?”

  “Just take it, asswipe!” I demanded. What Jack didn’t know was that I had an idea that would make us more than just friends.

  Jack reached out, took the glass from my hand and said with sarcasm, “Why, thank you, Jody. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I said, trying to maintain my composure. “Now – I want you to cut me.”

  “What?!”

  “I said – I want you to cut me.”<
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  “Are you crazy? I’m not going to cut you,” Jack said.

  “Cut me right here on the hand. Trust me. It’ll be cool.”

  “Get out of here...” Jack said jokingly, pausing a moment to study me from head to toe. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Now cut me right here on the finger. But don’t go too deep. I don’t want to wind up in the hospital.”

  I opened up my hand and extended my pointer finger toward him. Jack took one last look into my eyes and grabbed my wrist firmly. He let out a quick sigh of breath and swiftly ran the glass through my finger.

  “Ouch!”

  “Are you alright?” Jack asked.

  “I’m alright – I’m alright,” I grimaced, squeezing my hand tight.

  I looked down at my finger and stared at the wound. Bright red blood ran out at a very slow pace, and that meant Jack had cut me just how I’d intended.

  “Okay now, Jack, give me the glass.” I extended my other hand and motioned to Jack.

  “Here,” Jack said as he handed the shard over.

  “Now give me your hand,” I instructed.

  “No way!” Jack shouted.

  “Come on now, Jack. Give me your hand –”

  “This is stupid. Let’s just go get rid of these smoke bombs.”

  “Not until you give me your hand,” I said, and this time I was more serious than ever. Reluctantly, Jack stopped his complaining and gave me his hand. I placed the glass in the middle of his pointer finger, pressed slightly and yanked the glass down into his skin.

  “Damn it!” Jack whined.

  “You’re alright. It’ll stop hurting in a minute.”

  “Shit! It burns!”

  “Quit being a wuss,” I barked, and for some reason, the word wuss seemed to toughen my friend up; he paused his swearing and stopped pacing from side to side and acting like his finger had been blown off.

  Jack stood up straight, fighting off his pain in silence. “Now why did we do this again?” Jack asked me. He was still trying to get rid of the ache in his hand by shaking it.

  “We’re going to be blood brothers,” I told him.

  “We’re going to be what?”

  “Blood brothers. You know, just like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.”