Melanie's Journey

by Michael Cross

  She lost no time in setting the car into neutral and we gave it a push—letting it fly into the water. The splash was very welcome but not as welcome as seeing it totally sink and hearing the rush of escaping air, then…silence except for a few bubbles. I had to admit it looked neat, the cold black water with the moon peering through what little of the sky that was not yet covered with clouds. It would have been a spectacular painting.

  Nicole interrupted the scene, “Okay, now we have to take a little walk!” she said cheerfully. “Mark and Daniel will pick us up where we turned off the main road.” She explained that this would prevent any unwelcome sightings of Mark’s car on this road, and warned that in case we saw any headlights we should hide fast.

  The hike was only about a mile so even in the dark it would not take long. Now I felt like everything in my mind was able to catch up. “Okay Nicole, do you think everything’s set—like no way anyone can connect anything to us?” Nicole proudly said, “Totally!” I was relieved, so now I had to deal with other things, “I hope you know that I never dreamed that my first kiss would be with another woman in the middle of a dark cemetery with a pimp!” Nicole detected the ironic tone mixed with some anger I suppose. She approached me and joked, or at least I thought she was joking, “Well, this certainly is a more romantic spot, don’t you think?” as she ran her hand down my arm.

  “Yeah, right!” as I said in a muffled, would-like-to-shout manner—at the same time pulling away. “I see.” Nicole said in a shy, maybe hurt, childlike manner, “Let’s just drop it for now, I guess.” I hesitated a moment and said, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine now.” We were silent with each other for a while until we had almost reached the main road. Then I apologized for being angry the moment earlier and gave her a hug. “So everything is cool now?” She asked and I smiled and said it was.

  When we reached the road we waited a few minutes for Mark to arrive. When he drove up we quickly got in, and they wasted no time in griping at us for taking such a risk with no preparation. After a few minutes though, after Nicole explained everything in detail, and I defended her, the tone of the guys turned from nervous chastisement to Mark and Daniel finally calming down a bit and even complimenting us on how well everything was managed.

  We returned to the hotel barely before sunrise and went to our rooms. Nicole thanked me for sticking by her and smiled in a re-assuring, even puppy like, way. She then excused herself and went into the bathroom.

  While she was showering I wondered what her motives were and how she could go from seductive, to violent, back to seductive and then her reserved self so quickly and easily. I was both confused, and interested, at the same time. I also had to give Daniel credit, I mean was he a genius at relationship dynamics? I also wondered if she had any romantic feelings for me, or if it was all part of her overall game—whatever that was. I took comfort in the realization that I was not interested in her—that was a bit more unconventional territory than I cared to stray into at the time.

  However, as I rested on the bed I couldn’t help but relive the moments prior to Nicole killing the pimp. I was especially confused when I was hit with what seemed like a thought coming from nowhere; I was tempted to call out to Nicole and ask if she might be interested in reliving those moments in the safety of our room. Maybe I had felt cheated out of being able to truly lose myself in a passionate embrace and being able to experience what such closeness was like. I sat up on the bed, went over to the drapes, and looked to see that nobody was around. Then I made sure the door was locked and slowly walked to the bathroom. Just as I reached for the door handle I stopped and walked back to my bed…then, turning around, I decided, “Why not?” and deliberately walked back to the door, but just as I grasped the handle, the phone rang and Nicole yelled from the shower, “Who is it?” I picked it up. It was Mark—he had called to remind us to be ready to go out for breakfast soon. He asked if everything was okay and I said it was. He said he normally didn’t drink tea or coffee but he was so tired he might make an exception that day. I laughed and said he could have one of my energy drinks after I took a shower.

  After I got off the phone it seemed the temptation was weaker now. In fact, as I washed off in the shower I realized how close I had come to doing something that was totally contrary to who I believed I was. Still I wondered what might have happened if the phone had not rang when it did.

  We went to our events later in the morning but, needless to say, I and Daniel did not do nearly as well as we had the previous day, but still had done well enough on Friday to qualify for finals. Ironically, Nicole took first in her morning events and went into finals with us. None of us had the energy to do well that afternoon though. On the way home we all agreed we needed a good night of sleep and we could get together on Sunday to review everything from the weekend, as well as plans for the future.

  On the way back to Portland I stared out the window, catching myself daydreaming about what it would be like to feel the warmth of a kiss again. I was still somewhat irritated that now my only frame of reference to intimacy was Nicole—again, that was not part of my carefully constructed mental image of myself. That was when I vowed to repress any thoughts of those moments with her. The thought of being with Mark was more to my liking, but that would require carefully building up our connections as well as my being extremely patient.

  Chapter 16

  On Sunday I woke up late. My mom asked me how things went at the tournament, and I gave her the standard, “okay.” That satisfied her desire to pretend to be interested and my duty to give her some feedback. As she was going into the living room she mentioned that Nicole had called, which had the effect of the caffeine levels of a dozen energy drinks on me.

  Why did she call? Had the body been discovered? Even the remote fear of her calling from a police station entered my mind. One can barely imagine the relief when I called her home and she answered.

  “Hey Nicole, is everything okay?” I received the answer I hoped for, “Oh everything is great! In fact, if you look outside it’s pouring down rain—and the storm is from Portland to Roseburg! I was just waiting for you to get up so we could get together and do some planning today.” It did not take much effort to figure out that she was referring to the conversation prior to the tournament. “Wow, we going for a record? I mean, will we have time for schoolwork and all?” I said jokingly.

  Nicole laughed, “Hey, the creep on Friday was just a bonus, and I almost forgot, make sure when discussing anything you are not using a cell phone.” I sighed and asked her if she thought I was stupid, and that she had no reason to worry. I did not even discuss the topic of the weather she brought up as she must have known I knew the results would be washing away even the most minute traces of our visit to the cemetery, all except what we planted — that was why she was so happy.

  I asked if everything was fine with everybody else. Nicole giggled and said, “Oh Daniel was still a little upset about what he felt was our impulsiveness. I just told him that the guy basically offered himself over on a plate and why pass up such an opportunity—besides, everything worked out well, I mean he didn’t have to be scared or anything.”

  While getting ready for Nicole to pick me up I did give some thought to her saying it was “our” impulsiveness, while she had been the one who was in control of events. I also sat down a moment to look up newspapers in Salem to see if anything regarding body might have been reported, but nothing at all was there. I did contemplate that someone was eventually going to find our friend in the graveyard—I actually laughed at imagining how the first person there would react, probably hysterically, at such a discovery…I mean usually bodies are supposed to be buried in a cemetery, not sprawled out on the ground.

  When Nicole arrived I hopped into her car, and before anything else came up she said we now were on our lucky number 13, and we should not wait forever to go beyond that. I asked what she meant, and she said that if we counted our total score starting with Mark’s lawyer guy the pimp would th
en be number 13 in the total. It sounded as if we were athletes discussing having won 13 out of 13 games with the goal of 14 on the horizon. I asked, “So this will be the agenda for our get-together today I take it.” She confirmed that—as well as having some fun together.

  At this point I wondered if I should ask her about her actions that night. I was still curious if it was all part of her game strategy, or if there was indeed an emotional component to her embracing me. Then again, maybe it was best to avoid the issue—I did not want her to either get the idea that I was interested in anything more than our friendship, or that I was still upset with her. I figured I would see if she brought it up.

  “I do wish I knew what was going on in Salem right now.” I commented to Nicole in an intellectually curious sort of way. She kept looking at the road and nodded, “Yeah, but it’s to our advantage if they have not discovered anything yet, don’t you agree?” I suppose she was right about that. She continued, “And Melanie isn’t this rain wonderful? It won’t wash away anything we put there, so pretty much all that will exist will be a body practically floating in the mud.”

  Then I remembered something I had not asked her, “Nicole, I’m curious, do you carry around things with you all the time with the goal that they will be used to throw off the police?” Nicole laughed, “Hey, you couldn’t imagine…” Truth was that I actually could.

  “Melanie, if you want to win at this, and losing is not an option if you know what I mean, you have to always be thinking into the future. A discarded needle under a bridge, a lost glove in an alley, even a coupon from a Mexican grocery store—all these things can be pure gold to a cop if discovered at a crime scene, but it’s all fool’s gold if left on purpose.” Nicole seemed to enjoy this aspect of it all—as I did also. Nicole patted my hand, “So somewhere in the Salem police department there may be some detectives who will be treating the hair in our pimp’s hands as if it were the breakthrough for their investigation!”

  We both laughed at this with Nicole enthusiastically (and mockingly at the same time) commenting, “Not only that but the whole execution-style way he was killed, and the symbolism and viciousness displayed by the killer, or killers, smashing the guy’s privates with a bolder, and the money and all…the psychological profile they create will be hilarious!” We both laughed like we had just done the ultimate prank—a prank on the police…messing with their minds and eventually giving them a frustrating dead-end case. Who could help but lose control, especially getting mental images of the cops bringing in rival pimps, red headed prostitutes, taking DNA samples, and no suspects matching anything?

  When we arrived at Mark’s we discussed the Friday incident and everything seemed okay again. Now it was time to return to our bully friend. Daniel explained, “I’ve been investigating this guy for a while. He lives in a small rental and works the day shift in a local packing firm. He probably does not have many friends, at least every time I have passed his home on my bike the only car is his small pickup truck.” Daniel waited for questions and continued, “He’s big and kinda fat so we will have to catch him off guard in an isolated area away from his home.” We all thought a moment and then Mark asked, “Any quirks at all? Is there something that indicates a weakness we can take advantage of?”

  Daniel replied, “Why yes, I think we have something to use.” Daniel explained that on an evening a short time ago he had rode his bike by the guy’s home and snatched a small bundle of his garbage. Upon searching he noticed a bill to an internet porn site that features a service that matches people up for sexual encounters. He also noted that he had hit the jackpot since the guy had scribbled his user-name on the back of that same bill. We all agreed that this was an “in” and now all we needed was a strategy.

  I wanted desperately not to be a mere spectator, so I proposed, “Why not log in to an isolated computer and see if a connection can be made with him?” Daniel liked the idea and speculated that the guy would probably be on the internet late on Fridays since it didn’t look as if he had much of a life. Daniel then said, “Don’t worry about a computer—I have one I can use without fear of detection.” Daniel went on to say that the site appeared to give a three week trial membership and now the goal was that the bully had to be contacted by, “Some gorgeous girl who noticed his profile and was just dying to meet him in some isolated area.”

  I asked, “Who can say he will come alone, or stay quiet, once a contact is made?” Daniel nodded and responded, “This guy is probably desperate….he is a loser, so maybe the prospect of meeting someone who…is not quite an adult…yet wants him could keep him from telling anyone—as well as leave no tell-tale evidence on his computer.” The idea sounded intriguing.

  “So how should we proceed?” I asked. Daniel sat back and proposed, “Get him in an isolated place and make him feel comfortable—then he is ours! Give him a drink with a pill in it, or, if that doesn’t work, get him in a more conventional way—taser and dart gun, or in a worse case scenario—shoot him.”

  We all thought for a while and came up with the perfect plan—one of us would contact him and ask him to be online Friday. Tell him you saw his profile and you want to meet. Problem is, tell him you aren’t quite 18 yet, and then have this hypothetical girl nervous that if this got out her parents would kill her and it could mess up her life. So the meeting would have to be in an area where nobody would discover them (of course, our goal was that there would be no witnesses or surveillance cameras). Mark pointed out, “The thing is that we have to get him to bite soon, as we only have a short window of opportunity with the free membership.”

  Everyone thought this would be a great idea, and we just had to determine who would be the “bait,” and there were only two possibilities. Mark suggested, “He has to believe the girl is younger so perhaps Melanie would be the best choice.” It caught me a little off guard that Mark was so quick to suggest me for this role. I guess I held onto the notion that he might want to protect me in some strange sort of way, yet at the same time I would resent him if he did try to shield me. “So I am to be the bait?” I asked aloud. “Yes” Mark continued, “Nicole looks as if she could pass for seventeen to maybe twenty two, but you look as if you could go fifteen to nineteen, maybe even younger with the right makeup.” He was right of course. I had been able to pass for fifteen to get into the state fair for kid’s price just a couple months earlier.

  “So what are the details of the plan?” I asked. Mark looked at me, leaned back in a psychiatrist sort of way, and asked, “Why don’t we let you have a shot at how this should be done?” That sounded fair and thrilling!

  I had a lot of resentment towards what the guy we were discussing represented—someone who is cruel to a person to the point of driving him to suicide, as well as abusing a lovely animal. I thought for a moment…and then got a mental image of what the final result would look like…something I had pictured in my mind back when Tommy and I were victims of such a person. I would not share the details with Mark until later, so I answered him, “I have some ideas—but can’t a girl have a few secrets?” He laughed and nodded in agreement.

  I did suggest that we would need a really isolated spot—a place I could meet up with him and trick him into believing he was there to just meet me. I suggested that the easiest way to subdue him would be to slip something into a drink—maybe a beer. Daniel sat up, cleared his throat, and in excitement praised me, “That’s actually brilliant Melanie! In fact, I found several beer cans in his garbage so we know what he likes.” It figured the guy did not even recycle. Daniel continued, “We could have two cold beers there, but one could be loaded with a knock-out drug injected through a tiny opening! And if that fails, we will be right there with the taser—a bit more chaotic perhaps, but oh well.”

  Nicole liked what we were planning. Once knocked out, I suggested, take him to a very secluded area. Daniel asked, “Why not just give him a lethal dose there on the spot?” to which Nicole protested saying, “Way too simple.” Mark then insisted
on knowing what I had in mind but I repeated, “I said this is my secret for now—I think you will be pleasantly surprised.”

  Daniel volunteered to get on task right away with the computer account and fake messages. He asked what else might be needed, and I told him I’d get back to him, and that he just had to worry about the first steps of seducing our friend online.

  After the meeting we all went home and resumed our regular responsibilities. I had fallen behind on homework and really needed to catch up in both Lamb and Green’s classes as both major assignments were due that week. I did have to wonder if anyone remembered my birthday was just a couple weeks away, just after Halloween, and our new friend’s meeting with his destiny. Hoped he hadn’t made too many plans for the month of November. Yet even while planning the brute’s appointment with us, I guess what occupied my mind most was the horrible feeling that everyone was going to forget my birthday.

  That week in school I scheduled myself pretty tight—even limiting my computer time with everyone, although I was annoyed that Mark had not sent anything for two days. I stayed up late Monday night and completed my report on eugenics for Lamb’s class and, after finishing it, was satisfied that it looked like a college paper. Maybe just to brag I e-mailed it to Mark and asked if he could review it. After that I started Green’s paper, and about an hour later saw that Mark had responded—he thought it was great! Without even me commenting he had written that it was worthy of grad school.

  The next day I had both papers tucked into my notebook. One was the eugenics paper and the other was the analysis of a killer—I had changed my mind and chose to do Joseph Stalin rather than Capone or Ridgeway. I had started with a Stalin quote, “The death of one is a tragedy, the death of a million is merely a statistic.” I could not help but agree with him in general, but then again, I suppose it also mattered who the “one” is. I wondered about him…he was responsible for mass murders in the millions so was he also a serial killer? I mean Charles Manson had other people do his dirty work as well, and both were so methodological—except Stalin was on a more massive scale. It just gave me something to ponder, which I enjoyed doing.