The Summer of Winters

by Mark Allan Gunnells

  ***

  I had only been to Rollerland a few times in my life, on the occasions when classmates had birthday parties there and their parents made them invite everyone in their grade. The experience had been a lot like school, with most of the kids either ignoring me or picking on me, but it had also included free cake and ice cream and skating, so that was a plus.

  This was the first time Ray had ever been to Rollerland, and he seemed near ready to burst by the time we pulled into the parking lot. Brody had been silent on the drive over, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Whatever it was, he didn’t let on from behind his impassive mask.

  Once inside, Brody and Ray had to be fitted for loaner skates while I changed into my own pair. I hoped I wouldn’t run into any of the kids from school, but the crowd seemed to mostly be made up of teenagers.

  Brody hadn’t been lying about meeting up with some friends from work. Two boys and a redheaded girl who seemed smitten with Brody. They skated for a while then sat at one of the tables by the snack counter while Ray and I continued to circle the rink.

  Ray had never been on skates before, and he started off wobbly—I kept having to help him back to his feet after he would wipe out. Eventually he started getting the hang of it, though he went slowly. Once I was sure he wasn’t going to fall and crack his head open, I left him on his own and picked up some speed. I wasn’t the world’s best skater, but I was okay. Even with skates that were slightly too big; I just laced them up extra tight.

  After a while, I sort of forgot that I had been brought here by someone I suspected of some atrocious acts, I forgot the dread I’d been living with. My mouth stretched wide in the first genuine smile I’d worn in weeks. At first it felt unnatural on my face, but then I just allowed myself to get lost in the sensation of rocketing around the rink, listening to the sound system blare out one popular song after another. “867-5309,” “Don’t You Want Me,” “Gloria,” “Eye of the Tiger,” “Tainted Love.” Even when I took one turn too fast and ended up colliding with the back of a teenaged girl then falling on my backside, all I could do was laugh, get back up, and keep on.

  Later they shut off the music, and everyone skated out to the center of the rink and formed a circle for a version of the Hokey-Pokey, followed by a version of Duck-Duck-Goose. Afterwards, Brody bought Ray and me curly fries, which my little brother liked to pretend were Slinkies.

  On the drive home that night, I found myself staring over at Brody. I still believed that something wasn’t right about him. Perhaps tonight’s trip had just been an attempt to stay on my good side so I wouldn’t mention the hairclip to anyone, and it left me with a strange mix of emotions that churned inside me like a witch’s brew.

  When we pulled into the Moore’s driveway, Ray instantly hopped out of the car and shot off toward our house, so excited to share the night’s events with our mother. I gathered up my skates and was just about to climb out myself when Brody reached over and grabbed my arm. “Hold up a sec, Mike, I want to talk to you for a moment.”

  I suddenly found it hard to breathe, and I wanted to yank my arm free and bolt from the car, but it was as if I were paralyzed. All the good feelings I’d had out at Rollerland dissipated, and I couldn’t help but wonder if something like this had happened to Sarah Winters her last night on earth. If she’d felt that hand grab her arm and heard those words: “I want to talk to you for a moment.”

  Brody’s next words only compounded my fear. “Paige tells me you’ve been asking a lot of questions about me lately.”

  I tried to speak but all that came out was a sound not unlike the croak of a frog.

  “You know, Mike, I thought we were buds, but now I’m starting to suspect that you still think I had something to do with what happened to that poor little girl.”

  Still not trusting my voice, I just shook my head.

  “Well, I think you do, and it hurts my feelings. It hurts my feelings a lot.”

  I was trembling as if caught out in the winter’s snow without a coat; my teeth were even chattering. I almost said “I’m sorry” but then thought better of it; maybe that would be confirmation that I still suspected he’d killed Sarah. I looked over at the Moore house then at my own, wishing someone would come out of either one of them. “My m-mom’s going to be w-w-wondering where I am,” I stammered.

  Brody leaned toward me until our noses were almost touching, and when he spoke I could smell onions from the chili dog he’d had at the roller rink. “I worry about you, Mike. I’d hate to see anything bad happen to you. I mean, I know everyone in town seems to think the danger has passed, but the fact is there could still be a lunatic out there. Right now you’re safe because you’re with me…and everyone knows it. But that won’t always be the case. Sometimes you’re off on your own, I know that, and something terrible could happen to you if you’re not careful. So that’s all I’m saying—be very careful and watch your step.”

  His grip on my arm tightened until I thought my bones were going to snap. Brody’s expression held no malice, but it didn’t seem to hold any emotion. He was just…blank. But his stare was intense, and I felt an aching in my bladder as if I were about to wet my pants.

  Abruptly Brody released his hold and sat back, his face lighting up with a bright smile. “You should run along home now. Don’t want your mother to worry.”

  I tumbled out of the car, dropping my skates. I snatched them up then started down the sidewalk, walking backwards because I didn’t like the idea of putting my back to Brody. He remained in the car, watching my progress all the way back to my house. I had failed to close the passenger’s side door, and under the harsh dome light I could see that his expression had gone blank again.

  Just before I went into the house, he raised a hand and waved.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brody had threatened me. Or had he? It certainly felt like a threat, but if I were to tell anyone, what could I say? That Brody told me to be careful, that he didn’t want to see anything bad happen to me? Taken out of context, that sounded more like concern than malice.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah Winters. Why would Brody want to hurt her? Of course, despite my mother trying to shield me from all the gory details (and why she should bother when I’d seen the actual body I don’t know), I’d heard the girl had been sexually molested prior to her death. I also remembered the condition of the area between her legs. As if murder wasn’t bad enough, how could anyone be so sick as to do something like that to a little kid?

  So what could I do? It wasn’t as if I could follow Brody around everywhere he went so he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else. The only plan I could come up with was to watch over the one person I felt was in the most danger from Brody.

  And that was his sister.

  ***

  I became Paige’s shadow, as much as I could. If I wasn’t at her house, I tried to arrange for her to be over at my house. Basically the only time we were apart was when we were sleeping. I certainly wanted to make sure I was around if Brody was home but Mr. and Mrs. Moore weren’t. If I could help it, I was going to see to it that Paige was never alone with her brother.

  I actually managed to do a pretty decent job.

  Until the day of Ray’s accident.

  ***

  It was a Friday afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Moore were both at work, but Brody had the day off. So I’d invited Paige over to do a puzzle with me. I didn’t really like puzzles, but Paige had once told me how much she enjoyed them, and I knew my mother had a 1000 piece puzzle of a field of daisies in the hall closet. It was the bait that reeled Paige in. She asked her brother if he wanted to come, but he declined, saying he just wanted to crash on the couch and stare at the TV. I was glad but tried not to show it.

  Julie made us macaroni and cheese for lunch and we worked on the puzzle at the kitchen table. Even Julie joined in once her soap was off. Ray tried to take part, too, but he proved more of a nuisance than a help and Julie sent him to play outsid
e. It was only in the past week that he’d been allowed out by himself, just in the yard, so he jumped at the chance.

  After nearly an hour and a half, I had fit together maybe four pieces, whereas Paige had almost an entire corner together, and Julie wasn’t doing too shabby herself. Of course, my heart wasn’t really in it. I just wanted to keep Paige here until her parents got home.

  Julie got up and went to the fridge to pour herself a glass of orange Kool-Aid and asked us, “You guys want anything to drink?”

  Paige answered without looking up from the puzzle. “You got any chocolate milk?”

  “I’m afraid not. There’s regular milk, though.”

  I shook my head and whispered to Paige, “It’s powdered milk.”

  She made a Yuck face. “That’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

  Julie came back to the table and rummaged through her purse, coming up with a few crumpled dollars. “Tell you what, my treat if you guys want to run up to Buford Street and get a couple of Yoo-Hoo drinks.”

  This got my attention. I loved Yoo-Hoos, but it was a rare treat in our household. No way I was going to pass up on Julie’s generosity. I immediately reached for the money. “Thanks, Julie. You’re the awesomest.”

  “I like to think so. Get one for your brother, too.”

  “Sure thing. Come on, Paige.”

  Paige looked up slowly, as if reluctant to tear her eyes from the puzzles pieces laid out in front of her. “Uh, is it okay if I stay here and work on the puzzle?”

  I thought it over for a moment. It wasn’t like she was going home; she’d be here with Julie, safe as houses as my mother sometimes said. “If you want. I won’t be gone but a few minutes.”

  Stuffing the money in the pocket of my shorts—just some old jeans my mother had cut the legs off of—and stepping into a pair of slightly oversized flip-flops that had once belonged to my father, I hurried out the door. I started up Jefferies street and was nearly to the intersection when I heard my name being called behind me. I turned to see Ray sprinting in my direction.

  “What do you want, gay-beau? Does Julie know you’re out of the yard?”

  “Where ya going?”

  “To the store to get us some Yoo-Hoos.”

  “Oh boy! Can I come?”

  “No, now get back to the house.”

  “I can come with you if I want to. You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Well, you know who is the boss of you? Mom, and wait ’til she hears you said the ‘s’ word and gave me the finger. What do you think she’ll have to say about that?”

  Ray crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his lower lip out like a shelf. “Why you always gotta be such a meanie-butt?”

  “Just go home pipsqueak.”

  “No wonder nobody at school likes you.”

  The words hit me like a cartoon anvil dropped on my head and I forgot to breathe for a minute. This was the first time my brother had ever acknowledged my social standing. I supposed I had hoped he was unaware of how the other kids taunted me. I now knew I was wrong, and I thought I detected contempt in Ray’s eyes that I’d never seen before. I started to say something, offer to let him tag along after all, but then he turned and stalked off back toward the house. I could have called out to him…but I didn’t.

  Instead, I continued on to the store, turning right at the intersection. I was halfway down the block when I heard a high-pitched scream that sounded as if it came from somewhere back toward my house. I didn’t think much of it, to be honest. There were plenty of little kids in the surrounding neighborhoods, and since the parents of Gaffney had started letting their children out to play again, hearing a bunch of hooting and hollering wasn’t all that unusual.

  I walked into the store and went straight to the coolers that contained the drinks. I grabbed up three bottles of Yoo-Hoo, clutched them to my chest, then made my way back to the checkout counter. There was an old man wearing overalls in line in front of me, buying a bunch of cans of dog food. He and the middle-aged woman behind the counter were chatting as she rang him up.

  “Damn shame,” the man was saying, shaking his head. “Just when things were starting to get back to some semblance of normal, and now this goes and happens.”

  “Just wait ’til it hits the six o’clock news. Everybody’s going to be back in full panic mode.”

  “I hear the sheriff is considering instituting a curfew for everybody under eighteen.”

  “Can’t say I blame him. I just hope we’re wrong and this one just wandered off and got lost or something. Maybe she’ll be found and everything will be okay.”

  “Maybe, but I got a sinking feeling this is gonna end just like it did with that Winters girl.”

  I had only been half-listening to the conversation—my Mom always said no one liked an eavesdropper—but suddenly they had my full attention. I almost dropped one of the bottles but managed to keep my hold, just barely. “What’s going on?” I said, my voice high-pitched and strident.

  The man and woman glanced over at me as if just noticing my presence. I felt as if I were shrinking under the scrutiny. Finally the man said in his gruff voice, “You should get home, boy. No time for a young-un to be out on his own.”

  “How come? What are ya’ll talking about?”

  At first I thought they weren’t going to tell me, but then the woman behind the counter said, “Another girl’s gone missing.”

  Another anvil-to-the-head feeling, only this time an avalanche of anvils crushing me into a sticky paste. I felt feverish and sick to my stomach. “How do you know?”

  The old man answered. “Was chatting with a cop down at the Floyd Bakery earlier. Apparently she was in her bed last night, but this morning her mama found the bed empty. At first thought the girl had just got up early and went out to play, but when she got to looking wasn’t no sign of her. Reported her missing around noon. Little girl named Tracy Bright.”

  I actually moaned out loud. I knew Tracy Bright, she was in my grade. Pretty with blonde hair, the only girl at Central Elementary with braces. In fact, there was at least a superficial resemblance to Paige.

  “I gotta go,” I said and started for the door.

  The woman called after me, “You gotta pay for those drinks.”

  I had forgotten about the Yoo-Hoos, and I went and deposited them on the counter then hurried out of the store. Chocolaty drinks were the last thing on my mind at the moment. All I could think was Brody did it again. I’d been so intent on trying to protect Paige, I’d left Brody free to hurt some other little girl. Who would find this body, all torn up and used?

  As I ran from the store and sprinted home, ignoring the stitch in my side and trying to keep the flip-flops from flying off my feet, I knew deep in my soul that I was responsible for this. Not for Sarah, but for Tracy. I’d chosen to keep silent and this was the result. Oh sure, I’d had my reasons, and they’d seemed like good reasons at the time, but now I could see just how flimsy they had truly been. Bottom line was I had been afraid, and my fear may have gotten a girl killed.

  It was time to break the silence. I was going to go straight home and tell Julie what I knew and what I suspected. Maybe she wouldn’t believe me, but I wouldn’t stop until she took me seriously. And if she wouldn’t, I’d tell Mom. And if she didn’t believe me, I’d call the sheriff myself.

  I had to stop Brody before he claimed anymore victims.

  ***

  I burst through the front door yelling Julie’s name…

  And stopped abruptly, my voice lost underneath the shrill ringing of my little brother’s hysterical cries.

  Ray was sitting on the couch, his face red as a Valentine’s heart, tears streaming from his eyes. His left hand was wrapped in a red towel, which I thought strange since we didn’t have any red towels. Then I realized that it was one of the white hand towels my mother kept in the kitchen, but it was now soaked in blood. Not just soaked, but saturated, blood actually dripping from the towel to form a rather substantial puddle on t
he floor.

  Julie was running around the living room, tossing cushions and knocking knickknacks onto the floor. Her hair was disheveled and she had a mad look in her eyes. She didn’t even seem to realize I’d come back into the house at first, and when she did notice me she barked, “Have you seen my fucking keys?”

  Part of me was shocked to hear Julie drop the F-bomb, but mostly I was just hypnotized by all that blood. It was so bright, and there was so much of it. So very much of it. “What happened?” I heard someone say, and dully realized it was me.

  “Your brother came in the house and slammed the door right on his thumb. It was actually jammed in there, so much that it took me more than five minutes just to yank the damn thing open. He’s hurt bad, I think I could see the bone. I have to get him to the hospital, if I could just find my fucking keys!”

  I glanced over at the small table by the door, where Julie almost always left her keys, and like usual there they were. How could she have missed them? At that age I hadn’t yet discovered how panic can mess with your brain, but it was a lesson that wouldn’t go unlearned for long. Plucking the keys from the table, I jangled them and held them out to Julie.

  “Thank God, now come on, we have to go.”

  She went to Ray and tried to coax him from the couch, but he wouldn’t budge. Finally she lifted him into her arms, blood staining the front of her peach-colored blouse. She hurried out the door toward her car and I followed, something needling at me, something I felt like I was forgetting…and then it hit me.

  “Where’s Paige?”

  “I sent her back home.”

  I felt like my head had suddenly been dunked in ice water. “What? But her parents aren’t there?”

  “Her brother is. Now get in the car.”

  She put Ray in the passenger’s seat of her car, not bothering with the seatbelt. As she hurried around to the driver’s side, she glanced back at where I was standing rooted in the front yard. “What’s wrong with you, Mike? Get in the damn car.”