He Started It

by Samantha Downing

  I already hated it, partly because it wasn’t a roller coaster. Partly because of Nikki. She stood next to me, her whole body radiating anger, and I felt it the way you feel a chill. If I were her, I’d be angry at Eddie. He was the one who had betrayed her, who had betrayed all of us. We were supposed to stick together.

  Grandpa stood next to the plaque by the pole. His smile looked wicked.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said. ‘Read it.’

  Nikki didn’t just read it – she read it out loud for everyone to hear. I still remember parts of it, especially the last sentence.

  The ghosts of our youth revealed glimpses of gridiron brilliance, unfortunately brief and few but even so, that glorious afternoon of fun gave us guys a chance to fulfill that dream every seventy-year-old kid secretly hangs onto: playing one more game.

  And how many old rascals ever get to do that?

  John Crawford

  Codger Pole Dedication

  September 15, 1991

  Nikki finished reading and looked up at Grandpa. ‘This is what you brought us to see?’

  ‘What?’ Grandpa said. ‘You don’t like the story?’

  She rolled her eyes and walked away.

  Nikki had a way of pissing people off. That day was no exception.

  Now here we are again, standing in front of the same plaque, and Felix is the only one who hasn’t read it. When he finishes, he turns to us and smiles.

  ‘Cute,’ he says.

  ‘Yeah, it’s kinda cool,’ Eddie says.

  Portia and I don’t say a word.

  We all walk around the pole, seeing it from every angle. At the bottom, the Eagle and Bulldog mascots are carved into it and painted, with the names of the teams written alongside. Above them, the faces of the players – wearing painted football helmets – are carved one on top of the other, also with their names. The pole is thick. It actually looks like several poles put together, and in total there are four rows of faces reaching up to the sky.

  ‘I swear to God,’ Portia says. ‘The lengths men will go to memorialize themselves.’

  ‘Amen,’ I say.

  ‘I bet they didn’t have seventy-year-old cheerleaders at that game.’

  ‘You know they didn’t.’

  Eddie sighs. ‘It’s not to …’ Whatever he was about to say fades out, and instead he just shakes his head.

  ‘What was that?’ Portia says.

  ‘Never mind.’

  I glare at Eddie, not so much because of what he said now, but because of what happened before. We were enemies the last time we were here. And he kept making it worse.

  Our whole excursion takes less than an hour. We go back to the car, drive south toward Oregon, and we don’t stop until we hit the border.

  A fairly peaceful, if quiet, end to the Codger Pole trip. The first time it wasn’t.

  Grandpa was pissed we didn’t appreciate the Codger Pole. As soon as we got back into the van, he started yelling at us. ‘You can ride a roller coaster any damn time you want,’ he said. ‘I’ve been trying to show you culture. And heritage.’

  Nikki should have kept her mouth shut, but when did she ever.

  ‘When did Bonnie and Clyde become culture and heritage?’ she yelled. By then, she looked almost nothing like herself. Her blond hair had become blonder, but she had stopped wearing as much makeup as she usually did, her clothes were a mess, and her nails were chipped. She looked like a kid instead of an almost eighteen-year-old. ‘When did a fucking football game between old men become heritage?’

  Grandpa pointed at Nikki, the hate in his eyes visible. Tangible. ‘Shut up,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah. Shut up,’ Eddie said.

  Nikki crossed her arms over her chest, raised her chin, and said, ‘Make me.’

  They did.

  Oregon

  State Motto: She flies with her own wings

  Hells Canyon.

  Of all the places in Oregon to go, of course Grandpa took us to Hells Canyon. Oh, and the name of the river that runs through this ten-mile-wide gorge? Snake River. Of course.

  I have no doubt Grandpa chose it because of the name.

  ‘You have to be prepared for this,’ Eddie says to Felix. ‘No motels tonight.’

  Felix nods.

  ‘I’m not kidding. We’re going to be in the wilderness.’

  ‘Actually, it’s a recreation area,’ Portia says, reading from her phone. ‘It’s the Hells Canyon National Recreation Area, to be exact.’ She smiles. She’s particularly happy because we’re eating at an organic vegetarian restaurant. Oregon is full of them.

  I take a bite of my black bean burger, which is delicious.

  Eddie sighs hard enough to shake the table. ‘It’s the wilderness,’ he says to Felix.

  ‘Wait, are we camping?’ Felix says. ‘Do we need a tent? Sleeping bags?’

  ‘If you plan to sleep outside,’ Portia says. ‘I’ll be in the car.’

  Eddie rolls his eyes. The disdain he has for all of us feels like last time. ‘We can’t take the car out that far. We’ll stop and get some supplies. Won’t need a tent, though. The weather is nice.’

  Portia looks horrified.

  ‘It’s one night,’ Eddie says. ‘When did you become such a princess?’

  ‘I was six the last time we were here. I didn’t become a princess, I grew a brain.’

  Felix turns to me. ‘You know I have a bunch of camping stuff at home. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.’ This is not part of our fake argument. The anger is back in his eyes.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I’m sure it won’t cost much.’

  ‘I’m sure it will.’ He picks up his phone. I don’t have to look to know he is looking up Hells Canyon to see what wild animals will be waiting for us.

  A lot, actually.

  ‘You know what?’ Portia says, grabbing the check off the table. ‘Tonight I’m paying for dinner.’

  I am immediately suspicious – well, more suspicious than I already was – but I keep it to myself. Eddie doesn’t.

  ‘Did hell freeze over?’ he says.

  She smiles, not bothered at all. ‘Who knows – maybe we’ll all get eaten by a bear tonight.’

  Felix glances up from his phone, still looking angry. ‘Then he’s going to be disappointed by all the kale and beans in our stomachs.’

  His tone keeps us from laughing.

  We stop and get clearance-rack sleeping bags, inflatable pillows, and a portable cooking kit. Felix is the one who remembers the bug spray. He walks up and down the aisles of the sporting goods store, searching for anything else we may need.

  ‘We must need more than this,’ he says.

  ‘One night,’ Eddie says. ‘It’s just one night.’

  Felix snaps his fingers. ‘Toilet paper. We shouldn’t go camping without toilet paper.’

  He’s got a point, and I can’t argue with the extra blankets, either. Or the quick-pitch tent in case it does rain. And who would have a problem with bear spray? No one should ever have a problem with that. Even if it doesn’t work, I like believing it will.

  Eddie, ever the asshole, makes us pay because Felix picked out so much stuff. On the way to the car, Eddie continues to bark out orders.

  ‘Remember, we have to walk to the campsite. I don’t think you’ll be able to roll your bags through that path.’

  Portia turns around and gives him a dirty look. ‘I’ll be able to roll the bag, don’t you worry.’

  ‘I’m not carrying it when the wheels break.’

  I ignore them. They can kill each other, for all I care. Actually, that would make everything a lot easier.

  No such luck. We all make it to the car alive and well, our arms filled with sleeping bags and blow-up pillows. Before Eddie lets us put everything in the car, he searches it. He’s been doing that every day since the ashes disappeared. We still haven’t talked about how to replace them, or what we were going to scatter in the desert.

  ‘Nothing?’ I say.

  Eddie sh
akes his head, half annoyed and half disappointed.

  The drive isn’t too long. Felix spends it reciting a list of wild animals that live in Hells Canyon. That would’ve been handy to know the first time around. Maybe we would’ve been more prepared for them. We heard more than we saw, including some seriously loud birds. Grandpa said they were owls.

  And of course, the coyotes. We heard them all night, and Nikki said they sounded more like wolves, but Grandpa said she was wrong.

  That night in the woods twenty years ago, everything appeared normal. From a distance.

  We collected wood and Grandpa lit a campfire. Dinner was canned ravioli, warmed up and gross, although it tasted pretty good at the time. We toasted marshmallows on sticks after scraping off the outer bark. Well, Eddie scraped off the bark. Grandpa wouldn’t let me or Nikki have a knife.

  Eddie had started working on Portia, trying to lure her over to their side. That’s what we had, opposite sides, and it had been that way for the whole trip. The groups changed, the power changed, but we had never been on the same side.

  If you happened upon us at that moment, you never would’ve guessed all that. We gathered around Grandpa while he told gruesome ghost stories. Eddie tickled Portia, making her jump at the scary parts. All normal. But if you stayed too long, you might have noticed that Nikki’s hands were tied up.

  That’s what Grandpa and Eddie did to her. She tried to run – tried to actually get out of the van as it was moving – but they stopped her. Tied her up so she couldn’t get out. She stayed that way until Grandpa untied her hands so she could eat.

  So you might have seen the rope around her wrists, and you might’ve thought that was a little weird.

  Today, no one is tied up or being held captive. In fact, it’s the opposite. We’re all fighting to stay here. But like last time, we’ve never been on the same side. Not since the trip started.

  Halfway there, Felix yells. ‘Wait!’

  Eddie slams on the brakes. We all look at Felix, waiting for him to say something. Instead he does something worse.

  Felix slams his fist on the dashboard.

  Just like that, I’m a kid again.

  I’m at home, hearing Mom scream and yell and slam a door.

  Then I’m back in the van watching Grandpa do the same thing. Hearing him say Shut The Hell Up all over again. I even feel the same level of fear, and I can’t move, can’t speak.

  Violence always starts with the slam of door or a fist. It never ends there.

  ‘What?’ Eddie says to Felix.

  ‘I forgot the soap,’ Felix says. He sounds disgusted, probably at himself. ‘We don’t have any fucking soap.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Portia says. ‘We all stink already.’

  ‘No worries,’ Eddie says, patting Felix on the arm. ‘It’s all good. Without you, we wouldn’t have any of this stuff.’

  He continues driving and Felix continues to be angry at himself. I find myself watching his hands, wondering if he’s going to punch the dashboard again.

  The drive isn’t long, thank God, so there isn’t much time for anything else dramatic to happen. After Eddie parks the car and we gather our things, he barks out one more order. ‘Check your phones. I’m sure we won’t have service once we leave the road.’

  We all pull out our phones. Three of us see the same e-mail from Grandpa’s lawyer.

  Dear all,

  I hope your trip has been going well. I expect you’ll be done soon?

  Just wanted to drop a line and let you know we’ve had your grandfather’s real estate valued. Assuming the real estate sells within 5 percent (plus or minus) of the appraised value, and that we sell the car for the average value of the make and model, the grand total of his estate is approximately $8 million. Rounded down, to be cautious.

  I look forward to seeing you upon your return.

  Regards,

  Morton J. Barrie, Esquire

  We all look up in unison. There might as well be a giant stack of money sitting at our feet, keeping us separated. It’s so much money, more than enough to survive getting downsized. More than enough to disappear and start a new life.

  The game is no longer Secret Risk. This is the real deal, the original version where the winner takes all. I can see it in their eyes. Greed is a real, palpable thing you see, smell, even hear, and it’s all around me now.

  But it’s most noticeable in Felix. His pale blue eyes have transformed into the color of money.

  ‘All right, then,’ Eddie says. ‘Let’s go camping.’

  There’s a lot I remember about being in the woods, but there’s also a lot I don’t.

  I remember walking through the woods, like we’re doing now. I remember the open space next to a lake. Or the reservoir, as Grandpa said it was called. The food, the campfire, the marshmallows, and the ghost stories. Last, the hot cocoa, made with a double helping of chocolate and a bunch of marshmallows so it was thick and creamy.

  The next thing I remember was being woken up by the sun. It was fully up, so bright I closed my eyes as soon as the glare hit. I threw the sleeping bag over my head and stayed there, although I didn’t go back to sleep. I lay there for a minute until it hit me that everything was quiet. Grandpa usually got up early, but I didn’t hear him at all.

  I poked my head back out, shading my eyes with my hand. Everyone was still in their sleeping bags.

  I stayed in my bag until I had to get up and pee. All at once I unzipped the bag and threw it off. That’s how Mom always woke us up: She grabbed the covers and yanked. I put on my shoes and went into the woods. That’s when I first realized I didn’t feel well.

  My head was heavy, almost like when I had a cold, but my nose wasn’t stuffy and I didn’t have a sore throat. Even as I moved around, I didn’t feel quite awake. Like my head was filled with sand.

  Back at camp, everyone continued to sleep. Portia had kicked the top of her sleeping bag off. She slept with all her limbs splayed out like she had all the room in the world. Grandpa made the biggest lump under his sleeping bag, his grey hair sticking out on top. Eddie was snoring now, and he was loud. The only one I couldn’t see was Nikki. She was just a lump.

  I pulled back her sleeping bag the way Mom would’ve done.

  Nikki wasn’t there. She had replaced herself with a pillow, a bunched-up blanket, and some of her dirty clothes. They were tied together with the rope that had been around her hands.

  I screamed.

  My fault, my fault, my fault.

  After everyone woke up and saw the same thing I did, Eddie ran toward the road to try and find her. I started to run after him but immediately got dizzy and had to sit down.

  ‘She couldn’t have gone far,’ Grandpa said.

  I stared at him, wondering how he could still underestimate her. If Nikki wanted to sail across the world, she would already be on a boat. She’d find a way.

  ‘I don’t remember,’ I said.

  ‘Remember what?’

  I put my hands on my head, which still didn’t feel right. ‘I don’t remember what happened last night. I just remember the cocoa.’

  He furrowed his brow, then looked up at the sky. Shook his head. ‘I don’t, either.’

  ‘Don’t what?’

  ‘Remember. It’s all just … a blur.’ He grabbed his bag and dumped everything out on the ground. He picked up his toiletries bag and went through the bottles. ‘Gone,’ he said.

  ‘Your medicine?’

  ‘My pain pills. Or what was left of them.’ He shook his head. ‘Jesus Christ. She drugged us.’

  ‘Nikki?’ I said. Of course he was talking about Nikki. ‘But she was tied up.’

  ‘Not while we were eating.’

  ‘But we ate out of cans. It couldn’t have been –’

  ‘The cocoa,’ he said. ‘I bet it was in the cocoa.’

  Possible. Maybe. ‘Wouldn’t she have been drugged, too?’ I said. She had her own cup. Grandpa had retied her hands in the front so she could hold it by herself
.

  ‘Seems like it.’ Grandpa walked back over to the where the campfire was. We sat on rocks around it the night before, and he knelt down near where Nikki had been sitting. ‘There’s melted marshmallows here,’ he said.

  My brain was slow and heavy, so it took me a minute to understand. ‘She poured it out?’

  ‘Yeah. She did.’

  ‘It was me.’

  The tiny voice came from behind us.

  Portia.

  She was sitting on her sleeping bag, holding her stomach like it hurt.

  ‘What was you?’ I said.

  ‘It was sugar. That’s what Nikki said it was. She had a pouch of it in her bag, she told me to get it out and sprinkle it on the cocoa.’

  Now I remembered. Portia had put the marshmallows on top of our cocoa. And the pills. Nikki had them all crushed and ready to go, like she had been waiting for the right moment.

  ‘She said it was powdered sugar,’ Portia said, her bottom lip trembling. ‘She told me it would make the cocoa even better.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’

  She cried anyway.

  So Nikki had really done it. She had managed to drug everyone – even me – and just like that, our story became stereotypical. Again.

  There’s always one of these nights, sometimes more than one. Happens every time. Someone is drunk or drugged or so sleep deprived they can’t remember what happened. You know how that story goes because it’s become a standard, a law, written in stone. Just like the missing girl.

  That’s how it went with us. We were all swept away by a good cup of hot cocoa, and no one could remember a thing. Nikki drugged us and ran.

  No. She escaped.

  I can say that now. She was a teenager who had been tied up by her grandfather and brother, so of course she escaped. At the time, it felt like she had abandoned me. I couldn’t believe she didn’t wake me up to go with her.

  After I stayed by her side, even going along with her lies about Grandpa touching Portia, she left me behind.

  Eddie burst through the trees, all out of breath. ‘I ran all the way to the car. Nothing.’ He bent over at the waist and put his hands on his knees. His face was pale. Sickly.