Blood in the Woods

by J. P. Willie

  “Come here, Buddy,” Mr. Shawn said to me, nudging Jack a little to make room for me.

  I stepped over to him and he brought me into the hug with Jack, and I instantly felt safe. Jack was still sobbing, and when he took his face away from his father’s chest to wipe his tears, I saw that Mr. Shawn’s shirt had a big wet spot on it. I looked over to Scarlet and my heart just ached. She just hung there, her throat sliced open and bleeding as my poor friend wept for his loss. Jack reached out from the comfort of his father’s hug, and ran his fingers through the fur on Scarlet’s head, and then Mr. Shawn turned us away and brought us back in the house.

  “Get the goddamned police on the phone,” Shawn growled, as he sat us down on the couch. “Did you hear me, Renee?”

  “What’s going on, Shawn? Why’s there shooting outside?” Mrs. Renee was frightened.

  “Just get the damned police on the phone!”

  Renee said no more and did as Shawn had asked.

  “Sit here, boys, and don’t move,” Mr. Shawn instructed, and took off out of the living room. And this time he took the Remington with him.

  I sat there on the couch for a while in total silence and completely zoned out. I couldn’t help but replay the events in my racing mind, over and over again. Why would someone do such a thing to a poor dog? Who the hell had been whispering our names? The only sound that I could hear was Jack’s sobs; he had curled into a fetal position and was letting out uneven, heavy breaths.

  Another shot rang out into the night. It startled me, but Jack didn’t even flinch. I quit staring at him, because watching him cry reminded me too much of losing Pepaw, and I got to my knees on the sofa, pulling the bay window curtain aside to peer out into the front yard.

  Without warning, a man in a thick black robe with a cow skull for a face threw himself into the window. I fell backwards off the couch and saw the masked man lift up Scarlet’s severed head in his hand, as if was revealing some glorious gift. I squeezed my eyes tight shut and screamed for Mrs. Renee.

  I looked back at the man and I saw his eyes through the skull’s sockets; he waved at me and then threw Scarlet’s head at the window.

  I screamed so loud that I tasted blood in the back of my throat. Jack sat blot upright and stared at the blood splatter upon the glass and the weird man retreating into the night. Jack, too unleashed a blood-curdling scream.

  “Oh my God! Shawn, where are you? Shawn! Look away, Jody, look away!” Renee cried as she dashed in and rushed over to Jack and me, taking us to the comfort of her bosom.

  The blue and red lights from the police cars parked up on Jack’s front lawn drew the attention of the night’s travelers along Rhine Road. Some cars slowed down as they drove by, others hung their heads out the window to rubberneck, while others simply zoomed past and paid us no attention.

  Mr. Shawn had called Momma and then ushered Jack and I back to Jack’s bedroom once the police arrived, and there we sat in silence. I stepped away from peering through the window and walked over to the door. I pressed my ear hard up against it and eavesdropped on the conversation that was taking place in the kitchen. The cops were saying something about a similar incident over in Albany; only there, the residents didn’t actually see anyone. They’d awoken the next morning to find a whole bunch of dogs beheaded and drained of their blood. Listening to that made me even more uneasy, so I quit and lay on the bed next to Jack, who was in a deep sleep and looked kinda dead himself.

  An hour or so passed, and once the interviews were done and statements taken, Shawn, Renee and Momma came into the room to get us. All of Mr. Shawn’s buddies had left, and the house was once again quiet. We went into the living room, and the first thing I looked at was the window, but someone had washed away the blood already. Our parents sat us down on the couch and turned on the TV, without saying a word. Shawn escorted Jamie to her room, and after about twenty minutes, he came back and stood before us.

  “I’m going to go bury Scarlet in the back yard under the oak tree,” he spoke solemnly. “ When I’m done, you can go out back and say your goodbyes.”

  Jack didn’t say a word. He just sat on the couch and began crying again. Momma walked into the room and rubbed Jack on his leg to try to comfort him, but it didn’t work, I doubted that anything would.

  Mr. Shawn left us there and headed outside. I watched him through the bay window as he walked over to Scarlet’s headless body, gently picked her up and carried her away. The sound of metal striking the cold, hard ground followed a few moments later as Mr. Shawn buried Scarlet beneath the tree. At this, Jack cried even harder and Mrs. Renee walked over, sat beside him and squeezed him tight.

  Jack loved that dog, and Scarlet loved him right back. She’d many great times with Jack, just as many as I’d had with Rambo, and my friend’s bond with her was incredibly strong; it was like a part of him died that night with her, and I totally understood.

  Momma and I said our goodbyes to Shawn and Renee and left. I didn’t say goodbye to Jack, it just didn’t seem like the right time. I knew that when my friend was ready, he would let me know.

  When we got home, Memaw was sitting on the couch with Hunter, rocking him back and forth and waiting for Momma to tell her the details, but she didn’t say a word when we stepped in.

  And when she did ask, Momma simply told her that a fire had broken out in the kitchen; but it was put out before the fire department responded, and the police had just showed up just to take a report. Placated, Memaw’s face went from worried to fine in a matter of seconds. She gave us all a kiss goodnight before she walked home. Hunter wanted to play with me, but Momma swiftly intervened and told him just to go play in his room, since I wasn’t feeling good.

  “You going to be alright, Bubba?” Momma asked me.

  “I don’t know, Momma, maybe.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Do the police know who those people were?”

  “No – they don’t, but they believe that it’s some gang from Albany.”

  “I know. I heard a cop telling ya’ll about what happened out there, when I was in Jack’s room.”

  “So you were listening?” Momma asked.

  “Yeah,” I looked down at my feet, and I guessed she was probably mad at me for eavesdropping, but at least I was being honest. “Are they going to catch them, Momma?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are we safe?” I really wanted an answer to that.

  Momma looked around and picked Hunter’s stuff up off the floor, avoiding the question.

  “Momma,” I said, making sure I had her attention. “Are we safe?”

  Momma came up from the floor with a handful of Hunter’s toys in her arms and looked right at me.

  “I don’t know, Bubba. We just need to keep an eye on things around here, okay? The cops gave me and Renee a detective’s phone number, in case we need to call him, you know, if we see or hear anything that’s out of the ordinary.” Momma paused. “We can’t tell Memaw though, Jody, she can’t handle something like this right now. Not so soon after losing Pepaw.”

  “We all lost Pepaw,” I was angry. “So what about Memaw? She needs to know what’s going on, Jesus – the whole street needs to know, because something like this can happen to any one of us next! What about me, Momma? I was the one who saw everything that happened tonight. I was the one who watched a man throw Scarlet’s head into the window. I’m never going to forget what happened tonight – ever! We need Pepaw more than we’ve ever needed him, but he’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do.”

  “I’m sorry, Bubba. Come here,” Momma held out her arms.

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Jody, don’t talk to me that way.”

  “I hate this place and I hate Pepaw for dying, because now he’s not here to protect us – and Daddy won’t help us either, because he’s too busy fucking his new bitch!”

  Momma slapped my face, and I spun around like a tilt-a-whirl. Although her strike was firm and delib
erate, it still didn’t take away the pain I was feeling – it actually pissed me off more.

  “You’re not going to use that kind of language with me, son! I’m not one of your little friends who thinks you’re so cool – I’m your mother, and you will not speak to me this way!”

  “Why don’t you hit me again so I can call the police?” I tried to sound brave.

  “You can call them all you want, son, but when they get here, I’ll beat their ass too,” Momma said.

  “You hate me!”

  “I love you, Jody, and I’m trying to help you through all of this. I know you’re scared, and there’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll get through this together.”

  “No one can help me, not even you! I can help myself!” I yelled and stormed off to my room.

  “Get back here, Jody,” Momma called after me. “Get over here – now!”

  I ignored her and continued onto my room. I went in and slammed the door shut and before I made it to my bed, I collapsed to my knees.

  “Why did you take him, God? Why did you take my Pepaw? Please give him back,” I prayed and stared up at the ceiling, expecting God to show his face. “I’m in trouble, and I know it. I don’t know what to do, though. I’m so scared, and I think those people are gonna be back, and when they come, they’ll kill me, and if not me, then someone important to me. Please, help me, God.”

  When I was done praying, I crawled into my bed, covered up with my sheets and cried myself to sleep. Every dream I had that night was about my own death at the hands of the man with the cow skull over his face.

  When morning came, I lay awake in my bed and gazed blankly at the ceiling, not moving, or thinking about anything that had happened the night before. Something was wrong with me – I felt numb, yet filled with anger. I had changed overnight, and not for the better, believe me.

  After that morning, my life began to spiral out of control.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LIFE IN THE FAST LANE: 1992

  It takes time for wounds to heal, and Jack and I sure had plenty of those that needed curing. I knew that I was emotionally scarred from what I had witnessed that night and though Jack was too, he was showing it in different ways. He stopped playing with his dogs, and began killing small animals; birds, stray cats, stray dogs, it didn’t matter to Jack, if it wasn’t human, it got shot.

  As for me, I became ever more disobedient toward Momma, Memaw – and any other adult, for that matter. I would constantly talk back, and got my ass beat on plenty occasions for it, but it had no effect on me. I had sprouted to about five foot six inches, and had grown meaner toward my brother and peers too.

  I remember all too well the last basketball game I played at Nelson Middle School...

  I was guarding a point guard who was running down the court, clearly hoping to dribble a fake and go around me. I was near the sideline, close to the guy’s parents and friends who were cheering him on, and as he tried to pass me, I bent down, pushed my shoulder forward and forced it hard into his pelvis. The poor kid went flying over my shoulder and landed on his neck. The crowd stood up and screamed foul at the referee – one parent, a balding man with a ruddy face, stood up from the bleachers and yelled at me, like I really gave a shit what he thought. I gave Baldy the middle finger, and the rest of the crowd broke out into outrage.

  I was taken out of the game, of course, but I honestly didn’t care; I’d inflicted pain upon my opponent and that thought made me smile. The downside was that my stunt landed my ass in a psychiatrist’s office early the following month, and Mrs. Renee and Mr. Shawn waited to see my results before they placed Jack there, too.

  “I want you to draw me a picture of how you feel right now,” the psychiatrist requested.

  “Can’t you tell how I feel by just looking at me? I don’t want to be in this office drawing damned third-grade pictures about my feelings,” I growled at the shrink.

  “Why are you so angry, Jody? Is it because of what happened that night with Jack’s dog? Or is there something else that’s making you behave this way?”

  “How much longer do I have to be in here?” I asked, rudely.

  “As long as it takes to get some kind of answer out of you.”

  “Well,” I said, slapping my hand on my knee and throwing myself back into the couch, “how about I ask you some questions instead?”

  “Go for it,” said the shrink, giving me one of those smug smiles, as if he’d got me cornered.

  “Who the hell were the people who killed Jack’s dog?”

  “I can’t answer that for you, I’m sorry. That’s something you should maybe ask the police.” He looked around the room, leaned backed and then asked nonchalantly, “can we talk about your father, perhaps?”

  “Fuck my father,” I snapped.

  “Hey, I know a divorce isn’t anything easy to go through, especially for a kid your age. You’re going through a tough time in your life right now, where you need a father figure, and it’s hard, I know. Your father doesn’t call, he doesn’t send birthday cards – he doesn’t do anything. And I do understand your grief and anger when it comes to your Pepaw. I know you were close with him, and he took the place of your father. I know you need someone to talk to right now, Jody, and I’m your man.”

  “I don’t think any of this has anything to do with my father. He’s been gone since I was in second grade, so why would it bother me now?” I asked; he had broken me down into opening up, and I felt my blood boiling beneath my skin.

  “Because you’re coming of age, and you have all these hormones and feelings racing throughout your body, and sometimes it gets so out of control that you start behaving differently.”

  “So, you think the way that I’ve been acting is – is because I’m starting puberty?” I asked, looking at the shrink as if he was a retard with a PhD.

  “That could be one of the factors,” He nodded, sagely.

  “Wow,” I dripped sarcasm. I stood up from the couch. “You might as well give me one of those plaques you have up there on your wall, doctor, because I could’ve told you that.”

  I stormed out of the room, not once looking back at the man who didn’t give two shits about what was going on in my life. Dr. PhD just wanted to waste time and money beating around the bush, talking about daddy problems and stating the obvious about childhood adolescence; practically the same shit you learn in Sexual Education classes.

  I met with Momma in the hallway and she asked me how it had gone in there.

  “It was a waste of time, Momma. Can we just go home, please?”

  Momma didn’t say a single word to me; we simply walked out of the office, got into the car and went back home.

  Over the rest of the school year, I found myself in Saturday detentions more than any other kid in the school – besides Jack of course. And even though our behavior had worsened, our parents didn’t keep us from each other; I think they were hoping that Jack and I could solve our problems together, but sadly, that wasn’t the case. We hadn’t mentioned once the incident with Scarlet, we’d buried that memory deep in the back of our minds and had no intention of digging it back up. What we did do, however, was act out our bad feelings, because causing chaos and mayhem were the only things that seemed to help our problems go away; and we loved every minute of it.

  The last day of my sixth-grade year, I worked up the nerve to ask Angela to be my girlfriend. I saw her cleaning out her locker after the final bell rang and I approached her, all queasy and unsure.

  “Hey, Angela.”

  “Oh, hey, Jody.”

  “Look, I’m going to go straight for it, okay?” I took in a deep breath.

  “Straight for what?” Angela looked at me as if I were about to mug her.

  “Umm – will you go out with me?” I bit my bottom lip and looked down at the floor.

  “It’s about time you asked me,” Angela grinned. She grabbed my hands, giving them an excited squeeze. “I thought I was going to have to ask you – since it seem
ed like you never would.”

  Angela’s hands were soft and fragile, and I rubbed them with my fingers in small, shaky, circles. “So, the answer is yes?”

  “Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend,” Angela beamed, and I figured I’d just made her day; hell, it had sure made mine.

  “Thank God you said yes,” I let out a sigh of relief. “’Cause –” I pointed over to Jack, who was lurking behind one of the lockers, “– if you’d said no, I would have caught shit all summer long from him.”

  “There was no way I was going to say no to you,” Angela said sweetly, and I felt my heart light up, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  I felt something else too; it was growing uncontrollably down in my pants. I tried to imagine the nastiest girl in school naked on a beach drinking a diet Coke and stuffing her spotty, fat face full of ding-dongs – but it didn’t work and I officially had a boner. I let go of Angela’s hands and I felt the little guy begin to soften up. I looked into her eyes and thanked God she hadn’t noticed the tent I’d made in my pants.

  “Well, can I have your phone number, you know, so I can call you this summer?” the words hurried from my mouth in a blathering torrent.

  “Sure.”

  Angela reached into her locker, pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down her number for me.

  “Thanks,” I stuffed Angela’s number into my front pocket, “I gotta go now, but I’ll call you soon.”

  “Okay.”

  “Alright, then,” I said, not really knowing what to do next. So, I made a daring move and reached over to give her a hug and before I could get one arm around her, Angela kissed me on the cheek.

  “See you this summer,” Angela smiled as she shut her locker door and scurried over to her friends. Immediately, they all swarmed around her with giggling joy and praise, and I saw that Krystle was amongst the throng. She looked over at me from the group and gave me a simple wave.

  “The whole school is gonna know ya’ll are going out in no time,” Jack said as he sidled up to me.

  “You think so?”

  “I give it five minutes – tops.”