Darlington Woods

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Darlington Woods Page 9

by Mike Dellosso


  Before he is satisfied, the woman pulls the glass away, and he hears it clunk as she sets it down on the hard floor. "Stand up now," she says.

  He tries to stand but with his arms behind his back like they are he can't do it.

  "Come on," the woman says. Her voice still sounds a little shaky. "Stand up."

  He leans to his side to slide his legs under him but instead falls to the floor, landing hard on his left shoulder. Pain bites into his shoulder and runs up along the side of his neck, and he hollers out.

  Just like that, the woman's hand is over his mouth. Her other hand has a hold on the back of his neck. "You can't make a sound," she says. Her mouth is so close to his ear he can feel the hotness of her breath. She lets go with the hand covering his mouth. "If they hear... now, open your mouth."

  He doesn't do it. He knows what's coming if he does. The rag or whatever it is that tastes like grass.

  "Open your mouth now," she says again.

  Tears build in his eyes and wet the blindfold again. He keeps his mouth clamped shut and shakes his head.

  The woman squeezes the back of his neck a little harder, not so much that it hurts but enough that it gets the boy's attention. "You have to open your mouth. It's for your own good. You don't want anyone to hear. Come on now. Open up."

  Crying even harder, he opens his mouth.

  "Wider." She says it like the word hurts coming out of her mouth.

  Slowly, reluctantly, he opens wider. In goes the rag. She doesn't put it in that far, though, and he thinks that if he wants to he can easily push it out with his tongue. But he doesn't dare try it now or she'll stuff it in farther and then that would be it.

  She lets go of his neck. "Now, let's stand you up." Grabbing him under the armpits, she hoists him up onto his feet and places a hand behind his neck again but doesn't squeeze this time. "Walk forward."

  She leads him around the attic as before and down the steps. He can feel the temperature cooling with each step down. They walk some more, some on hardwood floor, some on rugs until she says, "Stop here."

  He stops and waits.

  For a few seconds everything is quiet, and he isn't sure if the woman is still there or not. He wants to try to push the rag from his mouth but fears if the woman is there she'll put it back in. So he does nothing but stand there, listening to the sound of his own breathing through his nose.

  Suddenly, he can feel the woman close to him, not her body, but just her presence.

  "Now," she says, "here's what we're going to do. I have a box here, big enough for you to lie down in. If I untie your hands, do you promise to get in like a good boy and lie down?"

  For a moment, fear keeps the boy from moving. A box? She wants him to lie down in a box?

  "Do you promise? You have to promise."

  Without really thinking about it, he nods. He just wants his hands untied. His shoulders hurt so bad.

  He feels a tugging at whatever it is that ties his hands together; then they are free. His arms fall to his sides like they are dead, and pain shoots through his shoulders. More tears come.

  "Now, in the box," the woman says. She guides him forward two steps and then says, "Step up and over the edge."

  But the boy doesn't move. With his arms free now, he wants to rip the blindfold off, spit out the rag, and make a run for it. He's the fastest kid in the second grade and knows he can outrun the woman. She sounds at least as old as his grammy, and he always beats her in races.

  The woman's hand finds the back of his neck again, and she gives a light squeeze. "Please, just do it. There's no use resisting. We have to do as they say."

  Feeling like a pirate walking the plank, the boy lifts one leg high and steps into the box. He then brings the other leg in.

  "Now lie down," the woman says.

  The boy squats then falls to his butt. Reaching out only a little with each hand, he can feel the sides of the box on either side. It isn't made of cardboard but wood. He wonders what shape it is.

  The woman nudges his shoulder. "Lie down now. It'll be OK."

  He obeys and stretches out his legs and lies down in the box.

  "I'm going to put the lid on now. If you want to stay alive, and if you ever want to see your parents again, you'll be quiet in there. If you make any noise at all, I'll have to tie your hands again. And I don't want to have to do that. Understand?"

  The boy nods his head furiously and reaches for the rag in his mouth. The woman grabs his hand and holds it tight.

  "Not yet." She pauses. Her hand feels soft but strong at the same time.

  The boy hides his hands under his butt and struggles to pull in air through his nose.

  "Good," the woman says. "We'll get you back out in no time."

  The boy hears the lid go on and various snaps going together. Quickly, he reaches up and pulls the rag from his mouth then slides the blindfold up and over his forehead. The inside of the box is black as the sky at night. He can't even see his hand in front of his face.

  All he can think about is that the woman has just put him in a coffin, and he is going to be buried alive.

  The early morning air was cool and fresh. A light breeze escaped the surrounding woods and pushed through the town of Darlington. Standing in the church's parking lot, face turned toward the rising sun, feeling the cool air comb his hair, Rob had that familiar feeling again. Deja vu. Like he'd stood in this very spot before, facing that same sun, feeling the same breeze. Only he hadn't. Was he remembering something from a dream? Or was he feeling what Jimmy was feeling? Experiencing the morning through his son? Was Jimmy in some meadow or field on the other side of the trees, feeling exactly what Rob was feeling here?

  Rob shut his eyes and tried to picture his little boy, in his favorite G.I. Joe T-shirt and camo shorts, standing in a grassy meadow, hair being tossed about by an easy current. Jimmy was there, in his mind, as real as ever. Smiling. Giggling. The wind increases; Jimmy raises his arms overhead and parts his lips in an open-mouth smile. A noise from the nearby woods distracts him. He turns his head. Fear freezes his face. There, from the tree line, breaks a horde of faceless darklings, running full throttle toward Jimmy, their bony legs chopping through the long grass. Screaming. That awful, bone-gnawing wail. Jimmy stands paralyzed where he is, arms still raised, mouth open in horror.

  The closing car door startled Rob and snapped him out of his trance. Juli approached him in an arc.

  "You OK?" she asked. "Memories can be hard."

  "What makes you think I was remembering?"

  "You had that remembering look on your face."

  "I didn't know there was a remembering look."

  "There is. You know it when you see it."

  They both stood quietly for a few moments, looking across the goldenrod-dotted meadow, studying the border of the woods. Rob knew Jimmy was in there somewhere or on the other side. He also knew standing here, in this parking lot, wasn't doing anybody any good. "I'm going in." He looked at Juli. "Thanks for the company, but I think I should finish this alone. Maybe someone here can take you back to Mayfield."

  Juli kept her face toward the woods and cocked her head to one side. "Bummer. I was kinda hoping for a real heartpounding adventure."

  "I think you better leave the adventure stuff to me. Doesn't Mary Jane need you back at the diner?"

  "Nope."

  "You off today?"

  "I am now."

  Rob turned his whole body to face her now. "You didn't quit."

  Now Juli turned her head to look at him. Her blue eyes were startling in the morning light, like fresh Maine blueberries. "Never. I love it there, but you need some company."

  "I can't let you go with me. It could get dangerous. I can't be responsible for that."

  Juli looked at the woods then at Rob. "You're gonna need a compass in there."

  "I'll manage." Even as he said the words, fear crawled into his chest and constricted its tentacles around his lungs. What if he got lost in there and night came and
darkness fell and the darklings came hunting?

  Juli faced the woods again. "It's called Darlington Woods, but there's a reason the townies call it Fear Forest."

  "I'll manage."

  "I'm coming."

  "No. You're not."

  "You need me."

  "Why? Why do I need you?"

  "Because I know the way out."

  "What, there's only one way out of the woods too?"

  Juli looked him right in the eyes. "One way out."

  "And how do you know?"

  "Experience can be a harsh teacher but a good one." With that she put one foot forward and started toward the edge of Darlington Woods. Fear Forest.

  Rob let her get a good twenty feet ahead of him before he reached in the car for the flashlight and spotter then hurried up alongside her. "You've been in there before?"

  "In so many words ... and in so many ways."

  "Here, hold this." He handed her the spotter. "And you know your way around?"

  "No one knows their way around."

  "Then how do you know the way out? That there's only one way?"

  "I'm here, aren't I?"

  She had a point. If she was telling the truth that she'd been in the woods before, then she'd obviously found the way out.

  They reached the border of meadow and woods in just a few minutes' time. Juli stopped before entering the woods. She faced Rob. "It's OK to be afraid. Everyone is. But don't let the fear overcome you. What happened last night... Darlington and these woods are one."

  Rob wasn't sure he understood what she was talking about, but he didn't have time for questions and answers. They could talk as they walked. "Fine, let's just get to it."

  But before they could cross the threshold from meadow to woods a voice stopped them. "Wait"

  Rob turned and saw a small group of five people standing in the church parking lot. There were four men and one woman, all much older than Rob, standing at least an arm's length from each other. They looked like human bowling pins, evenly spaced and motionless. The woman, a tall thin thing wearing a brown dress that hung on her like a curtain, stood in the back and rocked side to side, looking about nervously. One of the men held a rifle in one hand. Another gripped a hatchet.

  For a few long seconds Rob and the gaggle of Darlingtonians stared at each other. No one moved but the woman in the back swaying, swaying like a bowling pin knocked off balance but not ready to fall.

  Juli said, "Maybe we should see what they want." "

  Keeping his eyes on the group across the meadow, Rob said, "Better not be trouble. I'm not in the mood to get any more guns pointed at me."

  I can second that."

  Working their way back through the high grass and goldenrod, Rob managed a friendly wave at the small assembly. One of the men, a short, balding guy with little round glasses, lifted his hand weakly.

  "Mornin', folks," the man with the rifle said when Rob and Juli were within twenty feet.

  "Morning," Rob said.

  The man cocked his head to one side and rocked the rifle in his hand. "What brings you to this part of the woods?"

  The woman in the back now had both hands partially covering her face as if hiding behind them. Her swaying grew more enthusiastic.

  Rob thought it was odd that no one mentioned what happened last night and early this morning. They had to have been awakened by all the commotion, the screams of the darklings and grind of the car's wheels against the asphalt. And if they didn't, the deep scars in the road now would surely have clued them that something odd had happened here recently.

  "Looking for someone," Rob said.

  The man with the gun looked at the man to his right, a tall, lean fellow with a protruding Adam's apple and hooked nose. In a gravelly baritone voice that in no way fit his appearance, the tall man said, "Your son."

  "Have you seen him?"

  "Nope," the rifle-toting man said. "Ain't seen no one 'round here 'cept us."

  "And we'd like to keep it that way," the man carrying the hatchet said. He looked at the tall man as if embarrassed by his directness.

  "The woods aren't safe," the tall man said.

  The woman moved her hands from her mouth and took a step forward. "The devil's in there," she said. Her eyes burned like coals, and her face twisted in fear.

  "Shush, Nana," the man with the rifle said. Then to Rob, "The woods, they ain't safe."

  The woman mumbled something unintelligible and beat her fist into the other hand. Her face had turned a deep shade of red, and she looked about ready to burst into tears.

  "Not too safe here in town, either," Juli said.

  An awkward silence loomed for seconds on seconds.

  "How did you know about my son?" Rob asked.

  "Word spreads fast in a small town," the rifle man said. "I doubt your son is in there." He tipped his head toward the woods.

  "I need to find that out myself," Rob said.

  "You'll get 'em angry," the woman said, her voice almost a moan.

  Rob leaned to his right so he could get a good look at her. "Who?"

  "Nana!"

  "Them. All-"

  "Nana."

  "-three of 'em. Like a trinity."

  The tall man turned to face the woman. "Go back to your house, Nana," he said. He didn't take his eyes off her until she reluctantly stepped back, turned, and walked away.

  "She's talking about the darklings, isn't she?"

  The rifle man looked at the tall man beside him. The other two exchanged nervous glances too. Rifle man finally said, "Son, you best be on your way now."

  "You're afraid of them, aren't you? That if you help us they'll be back."

  "Time to go, son."

  "That we'll make them mad and they'll take it out on

  The man adjusted his grip on the rifle. "That's enough now. Time for you and your friend-"

  "That's what Norm was afraid of."

  In a series of quick jerky movements, the man raised the rifle to his shoulder and aimed it at Rob.

  "Whoa," Rob said, raising both hands to shoulder height. "Hang on there."

  The rifle shook in the man's hands. The other men shifted about uneasily.

  Juli stepped toward the man with the rifle.

  He glanced at her then back at Rob. "You two just leave now. That's all we're askin'."

  "Hasn't there been enough death in Darlington?" Juli said.

  Beads of sweat broke out on the man's brow. The rifle shook more. It had to be getting heavy.

  With a shaky hand of her own, Juli reached for the barrel and wrapped her fingers around it. "Hasn't there been enough death?"

  The man finally lowered the rifle and let the barrel drop to the ground. His shoulders slumped, and he wiped at the sweat on his face. "Go on then. But you'll get no help from us." He raised his head and looked past Juli at Rob. "You go in there, and you're on your own."

  Leaving the group of men behind, Rob and Juli crossed the meadow for a second time that morning. Juli's heart was still thumping furiously, and her hands were still unsteady.

  When they arrived at the edge of the woods, Rob stopped and said, "What was that back there about enough death in Darlington?"

  Juli looked back at the town. The four men were still standing there, motionless, watching. Beyond them, and at this distance, the town of Darlington looked as friendly and peaceful as any small town in northern Maryland. No one would suspect the horrors that had occurred there over the past twenty-two years and the fear they had spawned. "Those people have had their fair share. Enough for several towns combined."

  "Care to elaborate?"

  "Some other time. It's a lot to bite off in one sitting."

  "I'll hold you to that," Rob said. He looked up at a towering oak and squinted. "You ready?"

  "Lead the way."

  They stepped through a low-lying clump of kudzu and into the woods. Immediately the temperature dropped a handful of degrees and the light muted. The ground was covered with underbrush and
decomposing leaves and moss-covered rocks. Barren tree trunks rose from the leafy floor and shot into the sky, spreading their branches fifty, sixty, seventy feet above. Looking up at the canopy with only pin-sized holes of light poking through, Juli suddenly became very disoriented. She had to right her head and shut her eyes to adjust her sense of equilibrium. That's when she noticed the queer silence. The forest was void of the familiar sounds of birds, squirrels, chipmunks, and cicada. It was as quiet as a cemetery on a weekday morning. No breeze moved through the trees as it had so easily blown across the meadow.

  Juli looked around. It all looked the same. Trees. Underbrush. Kudzu. "Where to?"

  "Let's just walk and see what happens." Rob looked at his watch. "It's almost six. That means we have, what, at most fourteen hours of daylight left, less here in the woods."

  They walked on, stepping over fallen limbs and around clumps of thickets and wild raspberry bushes. The air in the woods was cool but still, bringing out a sweat on Juli's forehead.

  After some time of comfortable silence, Rob said, "So why Iceland?"

  "Iceland?"

  "Back at the house you said you were dreaming of Iceland. Why Iceland?"

  "I'm a fan of volcanoes and boiling mud lakes. Great material for interesting dreams."

  "You'll have to explain that one."

  Juli climbed over a fallen poplar. "Iceland has over a hundred volcanoes, and the whole island is full of thermal springs. The hot water beneath the surface bubbles up and creates boiling mud lakes. I hear it's great for your skin, except for the boiling part."

  "Fascinating." He said it like he found Juli's knowledge of Icelandic geography as interesting as watching a game of bridge.

  Juli caught the sarcasm in his tone but ignored it. "In fact, most of the homes in Iceland-"

  To their right, a breaking branch and shuffle of leaves stopped them in their path.

  PART THREE

 

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