by Milo Abrams
friends to think he was a wuss. Luckily, Jack chimed in.
"That won't work, Owen, it's too great a distance from the trees to the feeder for anything to set off the camera. The only way anything would set it off would be for it to pass directly in front of it on its way to the feeder."
"There's got to be a way to attach it," James said.
"We could move the feeder closer to the woods?" Owen suggested.
James hadn't thought of that. He could see his plan was falling apart and this new suggestion was forcing him to face his fear and get closer to the woods. “That might not be a bad idea. Now that I think about it, I've never seen it come over to the deer feeder. It's always just stayed back at the trees. Except..."
"Except what?" Owen asked.
"Except for yesterday. I was up at the top of the barn," James pointed toward the hay door, "and I fell asleep until, I was woken up by it going throw my dad's tools in the barn underneath me."
Jack’s eyes widened. Owen jutted his jaw forward, "No fucking way!"
"I’m serious," James replied, "and I don't know if it knew I was up there but when I got up it knocked the toolbox over and was gone by the time I came down."
"Obviously, it has no problem leaving the shade of the woods so it's not a vampire," Jack reasoned.
"Vampire?" Owen threw his hands up, "Give me a break. Vampires aren't real!"
"You just don't want them to be because blood freaks you out," James retorted.
Owen raised an eyebrow at James, knowing he was right. "Listen," he said, "we have to get this thing moved then and get the hell out of the field. Okay, it's not afraid of daylight—vampire or not. That means it could come out here after us at any time!"
The three boys looked at each other as his words started to sink in. Owen was right. James had never even thought about all the time that he had spent out in the field setting up the deer feeder or checking on it, and how he could have been watched the whole time. Stalked. Hunted. He was playing Russian roulette with the paranormal every time he came outside. Then there was the blood in the grass. How could he be so blind to ignore the fact that the creature wasn't docile? It had killed something or at the very least injured it.
He panicked as the anxiety rendered his mind no longer able to think about rationality or logic. "Jesus Christ, c'mon let’s get this thing moved!”
James’s sudden panic spread in an invisible wave outward infecting both of his friends. Owen quickly grabbed the barrel and rolled it off the stand. Jack grabbed one side of the stand and James grabbed the other. They ran the rest of the distance across the lifeless dirt until it gave way to grass just before the woods. Owen made it to the tree line first and stood there waiting for Jack and James to catch up. "C'mon guys, hurry up!" he screamed to them.
He looked into the woods and felt the fire of adventure. His childish brain was too underdeveloped to properly assess danger and he imagined for a moment that he was a great adventurer at the front of a haunted forest. He imagined going deep into the woods and slashing through monsters as they jumped from behind trees and under bushes. He was unstoppable.
"What're you doing?" Jack squeaked, breaking Owen from his daydream.
He threw the barrel back up on the stands and the three boys stood there looking at each other.
"Who's going to put the camera on the tree?" James asked.
Jack backed up, "Not me. I'm not going anywhere near there."
Owen looked at James. "It's your camera," he suggested.
James began to tremble. He imagined walking around the tree to secure the mount straps and seeing the monster on the other side waiting for him.
"Ah!" he yelped, dropping the mount and straps. "I can't do it."
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Owen picked them up, "you guys are both older, even." He walked over to a tree directly in line with the deer feeder then stopped, turned his head and smiled slyly. "Weenies."
He stretched the straps out and hesitated before walking around the tree. James and Jack watched as he walked into the woods and disappeared. After a minute, they began to panic when he didn't come back out.
"Oh my God," Jack said, anxiously squeezing the camera.
"Owen!" James yelled. No response. "Oh my God, we have to go after him."
"I'm not going in there!" Jack yelled.
"He's our friend, Jack!"
Jack put his hand over his face.
"What are you guys doing?” Owen yelled from behind the tree. “Bring the camera here!"
James grabbed the camera from Jack and walked to the tree as if the ground would give way at any moment. “Jesus Christ, we thought it got you!" he said.
"Not yet," Owen winked, "you have any idea how hard it is to strap that thing with a million mosquitoes buzzing in your face? I could hardly breathe without eating a bunch of them."
James put the camera on the metal stand that was connected to the straps. The camera was now securely mounted against the tree. He angled it as straight as he could. "How's that look?" he asked.
"It looks too low," Jack said quickly," c'mon, just point it up a little bit, turn it on, and let's go!"
As soon as James turned the camera on they ran back through the field, terrified to look behind them. They stopped at the entrance of the barn when James had a revelation. “Shit,” he said in a breathy panic.
"What?" Jack asked with his hands on his hips. "What?"
"The feeder. We forgot to fill it.”
14
They hurried back into the house and sat at the table to catch their breath. Nolan was putting on his shoes and was just about to leave.
"All right, guys. Remember the three B's."
"What?" James looked up confused.
"No beer, no babes, no bombs," he said with a serious face. The three boys looked at each other. Owen mouthed "what the fuck" to Jack.
"Uh..." James scratched his head.
Nolan laughed, "Guys, I'm kidding! Don't make a mess okay? I might not be back until morning." He walked out the door and they were finally alone. Duffy sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, his tail swinging back and forth like a windshield wiper on its highest speed.
"Okay," James pulled a nickel from his pocket, "one of us has to go fill the feeder with feed. I think this is the fairest way."
Owen slapped the table in protest, "Whoa, wait a minute. Not fair, I already did my part. I took one for the team by strapping that damn thing to a tree. This is between you two." Owen tried not to show it but he was just as afraid as they were.
Jack looked at James, "While I understand Owen's point, I have to point out that this is hardly fair. A nickel has a one in six-thousand chance of landing on its side when flipped due to its size and shape. You really think both sides are equal in weight? Look at the size of Jefferson's face!"
James looked at Jack with a blank stare. "We don't have time to debate the science of coin flipping. The longer we wait the closer it gets to dark, and I don't know about you but I'm not going out there at night. The camera is set up; we just need the bait for the deer. I really think the feed lures the deer and then the deer lures the monster."
"Wait," Owen interrupted, "so you're saying that it's not eating the feed?"
"I don't know,” James said looking at the floor.
"That's a lot of feed to be missing overnight, unless you have a shitload of deer in your yard.” Owen’s eyes rolled up as he was thinking before speaking—a rare occurrence for him. “Besides, you said that thing was in the barn with you. There was no feed in the barn, right?"
Owen made a good point that got James thinking. “Well, no, but I did see a deer earlier that day. I don't know, maybe the deer led it there and it was in the barn looking for more food or even more feed. I fell asleep."
"So, maybe the feed isn't necessary at all then?" Jack suggested.
"Yeah, maybe we should have just put the damn camera on the barn or the house!" Owen yelled.
“Okay," James said, feeling ganged up on, "but the point is
, it's already on the tree and it’s pointed at the deer feeder. We might as well fill the feeder. I just think it's the greatest chance we have to get a shot of it."
Owen tilted his hat down over his eyes. "Flip away, I'm out. I did my part."
James shrugged at Jack. "Heads or tails?"
"Let me do it," Owen said, grabbing the coin from James. "I'll just spin the damn thing."
"No!" Jack yelled, "there’s an even greater bias toward one outcome by spinning. Just flip it and catch it so it doesn't hit the table and spin."
Owen looked at Jack and said, "You know, you're a little weird."
"Heads or tails?" James interrupted.
Jack thought out loud, "Well there's a higher probability of tails landing face up on a penny and the Lincoln Memorial is—
"For fuck's sake, you get heads!" Owen yelled and flipped the coin.
Jack held his breath as the nickel flipped in the air and landed into Owen's hand.
"Not to be pessimistic, James, but surely you run faster than I do," Jack said like a nervous mouse.
Owen rolled his eyes and put the coin down on the table. It was tails.
"Shit," James said.
"If it means anything, bro, it is your deer feeder."
James looked at Owen like he was an idiot. He got up and grabbed the feed bag. The bag wasn't as big as the last one, allowing James to carry it without too much difficulty. He had so much adrenaline flowing through his veins as he stepped onto the porch that he thought he might pass out. As he started to walk toward the backyard, Owen screamed out the door, scaring him.
"James, wait!"
He turned around to see Owen letting Duffy out the door. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Dogs hear better than us," he said, "so, you know...give you a heads up in case something happens."
"In case something happens? Well thanks for being optimistic!" Duffy jumped up on James and licked his face. "C'mon boy, let's get that feeder filled up.”
James walked as fast as he could while carrying the bag of feed. Even though the bag was significantly lighter, carrying it over such a large distance was hard on James's twelve-year-old body. The feeder was also twice as far as it was before. He got halfway through the field where the feeder used to be and stopped to rest. He looked back and saw Jack and Owen in the kitchen window. Duffy sat next to him panting and wagging his tail, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. After a minute of catching his breath, James started to stand up when Duffy hunched down and started barking behind him. He froze. Instead of catching his breath, James was now panting heavier than before strictly out of fear. Duffy pounced forward and ran behind him barking. James took a deep breath and quickly stood up and turned around to see Duffy chasing a couple of Canadian geese across the field.
"Ugh," he said picking up the bag and pressing on. By the time he finally reached the deer feeder his initial wave of adrenaline was wearing off and he felt too tired to run even if he had to. His arms shook as he ripped the bag open and lifted it into the feeder. He emptied the entire bag and then turned around and walked as quickly as he could without looking back. Duffy lost interest in the geese and returned to his side, but he was too focused to care. He kept his eyes on Jack and Owen who were plastered against the kitchen window. He studied them for any sign of trouble that they might see behind him that he couldn't. The day was quiet, the air was hot and James just couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. The feeling crawled up his back bone and pressed against the back of his head. The fear got to him and he started to run. Even when he felt like he couldn't run any further, he kept running until he rounded the corner of the house with Duffy on his heels. Struggling up the porch, he stumbled through the door and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch and cried into a pillow.
15
It was awkward for Jack and Owen to sit in the kitchen and hear their friend cry. As twelve-year-olds, they were in the cusp of puberty and becoming adults, and because of this, they felt an overwhelming desire to be more grown up than they really were. Often, they tried to act like they weren't affected by physical or emotional pain but underneath the facade they were still little kids. Even tough-ass Owen bawled like a baby when he flipped over the handle bars of his bike and came down elbow first on the pavement, effectively turning his elbow into powdered sugar in his arm. He tried to make up for it by acting tough even though his pain was more than just in a cast.
The boys didn't say anything about James crying because they completely understood. Neither of them wanted to go back out in that field after all James had told them. And they believed him, of course, because he believed it himself. What reason would James have to make it all up?
After he calmed down he went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face to help hide the puffy red cheeks he acquired from the tears. When he reappeared in the kitchen Owen and Jack were back to eating wings and no one said a word. One defense of the human psyche is to try and distance oneself from tragedy because a memory can hurt the same as trauma itself. The brain doesn't know whether the person is experiencing pain or simply the memory of pain. To distance themselves from the sheer terror of a monster in the woods behind the house, they locked all the doors and windows, then retreated to the living room to watch movies.
Nolan didn't have any sort of TV service at the house but he did have an extensive movie collection. They wasted the evening away depleting the house’s root beer supply and they managed to eat the better part of the five pounds of wings between the three of them.
Once it started to get dark outside, Jack looked over at Duffy whining at the door. He patted James on the shoulder and pointed to his dog.
"Oh no, I completely forgot!" He jumped up and ran over to Duffy who was jumping and scratching at the door to try and get out to go to the bathroom. James hesitated as he looked out the kitchen window and saw that the darkness of night had taken over once again. Jack and Owen were so absorbed in the TV that they didn't even notice. James walked back into the living room and put his hands on top of his head, interlocking his fingers.
Jack looked over and saw Duffy still pawing at the door. "What's the matter?"
"I can't go out there," James replied, "it's dark."
Owen and Jack looked at each other. Owen shrugged and said, "Just let him out. He doesn't run away so he'll come back to the door when he's done, we do that with our dog in the backyard all the time."
The last couple of hours had caused Owen to forget the fear they all had shared over what may be lurking in the darkness.
Jack looked at James, "Just let him go in here and clean it up."
"Ugh, no way," James said, "that's sick and my dad would be pissed if Duffy went in here."
"Okay, just do this," Jack walked over and grabbed the retractable leash off the counter, "take this and wrap it around the porch through the loop in the handle and hook him up, then you can let him out but you can quickly bring him back in."
James looked at the leash. He knew Jack was smart—way smarter than the two of them together. He also knew that Jack wouldn't suggest something unless he honestly believed in it, which made him the most mature of the group. James carefully opened the heavy wood door, and then pushed the thinner screen door open as if it were made of sand and would collapse if it moved too quickly. The air was muggy with an electric feeling of a cold front moving in from the west. Crickets chirped and fireflies danced in rhythmic bursts past the edge of the porch light's reach. Duffy tried to break free of Jack and Owen's grip on his collar as James scanned the darkness. Duffy was restless, his full canine bladder combined with his instinct to rip into the open fields like a jet plane through the clouds caused him to bounce around furiously.
"Hang on a sec, Duff!" James pushed his leg in front of him to keep him from running outside.
“C’mon man,” Owen barked, “we can't hold him much longer.”
James’s skin rippled with goose bumps as he stepped out on to the porch, fully
in the night and vulnerable to pounces from the shadows. He took a deep breath and quickly wrapped the leash around the railing as Jack had instructed and dropped the handle, dragging the end of the leash back into the doorway. He knelt down while Duffy twitched and moved around erratically as he tried to hook the leash onto his collar. James's heart rate increased with every second that passed with his back facing the darkness behind him.
"C'mon Duff. God damn, stay still!"
Finally, he was able to hook the leash and everyone let go as Duffy exploded into a leap off the porch into the grass, quickly reaching the limit of the leash's length with an awkward and uncomfortable stop that choked him and left him coughing. Recovering quickly, he stood tall and barked as a dark shadow skirted the porch light. James jumped as the shadow skimmed his peripheral vision.
"Did you guys see that?" Owen yelled.
"Move! Let me in, let me in!" James screamed, pushing Jack and Owen out of the way and closing the door behind him. In his panicked state, he had left Duffy outside all alone.
"Shit, what about Duffy!" Owen pulled the blinds apart in the window next to the door.
James grabbed his hair and pulled, "Oh my God. What was I supposed to do?"
The three boys crowded the window and peeked out the split in the blinds, which was now permanently bent. Outside, they saw Duffy standing still in the grass, illuminated by the spotlight of the porch light and staring into the dark.
"Jesus Christ, what do we do?" James asked between biting his nails.
Duffy hunched lower and then barked as two more shadows darted around the porch light and into the driveway. Three deer walked into the light, out of Duffy's reach and looked at him before casually walking away.
"It was just some deer!" Jack yelled in relief.
They watched as Duffy's distraction left and his demeanor melted back into its original focus before going outside. He quickly squat in the warm grass a few feet away and emptied himself near the foundation of the house.
"Nothing like watching a dog crap, huh?" Owen said elbowing James.
Duffy paced around and ate some grass, then walked up onto the porch and sat down to rest.
The boys peeled themselves away from the window and sat at the table. The tension of the situation melted away and Owen leaned his chair back on to two legs. "You know, bro, I'm not trying to sound mean, but we haven't seen anything yet."
James looked up at him. "What're you saying?"
Owen shrugged, "I'm just saying that we're taking your word for it. We haven't seen any monster and well, nothing has happened at all."
"He has a point," Jack chimed in, "I'm not calling you a liar, James, but as far as we know the monster in the woods is pure speculation."
James was irritated at his friends' disbelief. "What do you do, read a dictionary for fun?" he snapped at Jack. "Listen, I know what I saw and I'm not lying."
"That's cool," Owen said, "I'm just saying if there really isn't a monster and you saw something else, then that kind of makes sense, too."
"Irrational fears in an open field over something
