Childhood Fears

by L. L. Soares

  Walter took a deep breath and sipped his coffee before continuing. “This morning, two of our overnight guests asked to see a detective. These two old men waited at the track last night for two friends who never showed up. The men claim a young man killed their one friend and threw his body into the pond. Their other friend may have already been dumped into the water. They had heard a splash, and that’s why they went to check the pond. These poor old guys believed a teenager and three scarecrows did it. Their descriptions almost matched Jimmy and the Lewiston scarecrows.”

  “Are you saying my daughter isn’t the only person who sees scarecrows?”

  “Let me finish, Robert. Their description of Jimmy and the scarecrows sounded sketchy at best. These witnesses were old, half-blind and probably drunk when these alleged murders happened. When I talked to others bums about it, they laughed. They admitted tales of roaming scarecrows have been around for years. It comes up every time they arrive in farm country. No one actually believes it. They tell these stories for entertainment, or if they want to scare the new guy.” Walter stopped and let it all sink in. Steven sat quietly drinking coffee, and Robert just stared straight ahead.

  Steven asked, “You have a report of two murders. What’s the next step?”

  Walter turned to Robert. “I need to talk to Jimmy. Just to clear the matter. Do you think if we went over there, Mr. Lewiston would let me talk to him?”

  “I don’t know. Barry’s very protective of him. Why don’t I talk to Barry on your behalf first? He’s always terrified someone will take Jimmy away from him.”

  “I’ll leave it with you then. Let me know. The only other thing I can do is drag that pond. With no other evidence at this point, it’s the only way to know if there’s anything to these accusations. I think—”

  A loud siren blared outside and Walter stopped talking. Robert jumped up and ran over to the phone. He dialed the operator quickly and waited.

  Steven looked at Walter. “What is that?”

  “Fire…it’s the fire alarm. Most rural communities have volunteer firefighters. They use that loud siren as the alert, and the men call the local operator for the location of the fire.”

  “Thanks, Bonnie.” Robert hung up the phone and ran out the front door. Walter and Steven followed him. They hesitated on the front lawn. Black smoke billowed into the sky. Down the road to the east and behind a modern farmhouse sat a large structure belching smoke and flame. They all ran toward the fire.

  “What is that?” Walter yelled.

  “Lewiston’s barn is burning.” Robert pointed.

  The black smoke engulfed the whole area, and the three men stopped and covered their mouths and noses with handkerchiefs before continuing. Two fire trucks, sirens blaring, sped past them and up the lane to Lewiston’s barn.

  Robert joined the firefighters. Walter and Steven slowed and stopped in the lane. Flames licked through the walls and windows of the barn, and smoldering ash fluttered from the sky. Given the fire’s progression, nothing could save the barn. The firefighters were worried about the fire spreading to the house. Robert and two other men kept dousing the house roof with water.

  Two hours later, wood embers and ash covered the scorched equipment and the cement floor of the barn. The firefighters hosed down hot spots in the pile of charred wood, preventing any further flare up. Barry stood in the lane and stared at the destruction. He lost most of his equipment and tools. Barry’s face mirrored a hard punch to the midsection.

  Robert approached Barry. “What happened? I didn’t realize you had a fire until the alarm sounded.”

  “I don’t know what happened. I went into the fields earlier to check the crops. The corn will be ready soon, and I can’t get it out of the field now. All my equipment sat in that barn.” Barry looked like he would cry. Instead, he turned away from the destruction and spoke quietly to Robert. “Jimmy came and told me about the fire in the barn. I think he set the fire. He seemed happy about it.”

  “Don’t blame Jimmy yet, Barry. You know how mixed-up he gets sometimes. The fire investigators will check it out. Your insurance should be able to replace the equipment right away, and you know the neighbors will help you rebuild the barn.”

  “I don’t feel right about this. Something is very wrong.”

  “We’ll deal with it. You’re not alone here.” He put his hand on Barry’s shoulder. Barry just nodded and took a deep breath.

  “I had planned to come over later and talk to you about Cathy’s situation.” Robert motioned for his friends to join him.

  “That’s still up in the air, isn’t it? What can I do to help?”

  “This is Walter Leland. He is the lead investigator in her case. This is Cathy’s doctor, Steven Webster.” He suddenly felt stupid asking for anything from Barry. “I’m sorry to bring this up right now. Walter wondered if he could talk to Jimmy. Is there any chance he could do that? It would just be a friendly conversation, whenever you have time.”

  Barry looked the cop up and down and slowly lit a cigarette. He turned and started to walk away and then hesitated, stopped and turned to Robert. “No, Jimmy won’t be talking to anyone.” As he wiped soot from his face, Barry ambled across the lawn and into his cornfield.

  Jimmy sat on the front lawn and watched everyone. His father walked past him and into the field. Jimmy stared at the remains of the barn.

  Chapter Eight

  September 1964

  “Jimmy, you know the scarecrows hurt people.”

  “Why do we have to talk about them? They’re my friends. I don’t have any other friends except you. Most people around here just laugh at me.”

  “You’re my best friend. I would never hurt you.” Cathy smiled at Jimmy and climbed onto a bale of straw. She dangled her legs over the edge.

  Jimmy sat down at the table in the barn and faced her. “No, you wouldn’t, but lots of other people would. That’s why I let the scarecrows do whatever they want. They like to scare people. They think people deserve it, and so do I.”

  “It has to stop.” Cathy looked at Jimmy and wondered how to convince him.

  He got up and stomped around. “I don’t think people are scared enough yet.”

  Cathy jumped off the bale and stood in front of him. She grabbed his hands and spoke in a whisper. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I’ll make sure they don’t laugh at you or call you names. I promise. Jimmy, we have to stop these scarecrows from hurting anyone else.”

  Jimmy looked sad. “You don’t understand. I don’t know how to stop them. Do you know how to stop them?”

  “How would I know that?” Cathy thought for a minute. “You told me they came out of the pond with you. Tell me about that day.”

  They sat side by side on the bale. Jimmy looked frightened. Cathy grabbed his hand as he told his story.

  “I saw a hand under the water. I couldn’t see anyone, just the hand. I leaned over a little to see it better. All of a sudden, this head just popped up. It was a big face with lots of hair.” Jimmy’s breathing became labored and shallow.

  “Jimmy, it’s okay. Tell me about it.”

  Jimmy nodded. “He grinned, and then he laughed at me. It startled me and I tried to yell, but I couldn’t. His hand reached up, grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into the pond.” Jimmy began to shake.

  Cathy patted his hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid now. We’re just talking. Do you remember what happened after that?”

  “I felt cold and everything looked black, like I had my eyes closed, but I didn’t. I tried to swim, but I couldn’t. It felt like I kept falling. I heard a voice whispering in my head. It told me I died. The voice said it over and over. Then I heard more voices in my head, but they laughed at me. Someone called my name from far away and I thought he would save me. The voices said I had to take them with me or I couldn’t leave. I would just stay ri
ght there and be dead forever.”

  Jimmy stopped talking and stared across the barn.

  “What happened then?”

  “They kept laughing in my head. I felt cold, and I couldn’t move my arms or my legs anymore. It got darker, and colder, and then everything went quiet. I woke up at the hospital.” Jimmy looked at Cathy. “I don’t remember anything before that day. I only know what’s happened since then.”

  “It’ll be okay. We’ll find a way to stop them.”

  Friday, August 26, 1966

  “He probably thinks you’ve finally lost your mind. What would make you think the superintendent would go along with dragging that old pond when you have no evidence of any crime?” Lucas had been Walter’s partner for four years.

  “I have a hunch. I think my evidence is in that pond.”

  “Evidence that two old bums were murdered by scarecrows, the same scarecrows that murdered a six-year-old girl a couple years ago.” Lucas felt frustrated and didn’t know what to say anymore. Walter embarrassed him. Lucas continued his rant. “That pond probably has lots of bodies in it. All those stories about gangsters throwing bodies in there, in the twenties, are probably true. You drag out a bunch of useless old bones, and the super will kick us so far down, we’ll be lucky if we make Boy Scout.”

  The superintendent walked into the squad room and crooked his finger at Walter. The detective followed him into his office.

  “I don’t know how you managed it, but I just got word. I’m to approve your request from last week. You wanted to drag that pond at the old Devon racetrack. You better hope, for your own sake, there’s something there.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find something, sir.”

  “Well, I don’t want a big show. This will be a nice, quiet search with no reporters and no cameras. I want that site completely secure. Any leaks, I’ll have your badge. There is no way I want those asshole reporters making fools of us again. The kid’s murder made us front-page fools. We just got the press settled down on that one after two years.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Walter nodded.

  “I’ll let you know when it’s set up. Get out of my office.”

  Tuesday, September 6, 1966

  The day after Labour Day, the police divers pulled equipment into the old racetrack. The activity brought out the gawkers and even a few reporters. The uniformed officers kept the area closed off from cameras and people. They claimed this special training session required seclusion and sent all of the observers away.

  The divers pulled seven bodies from the water the first day and another two the following day. The nine intact bodies, each covered in dark plastic, left the track headed to the coroner’s office.

  They found a large cache of human bones and determined that at least twelve skeletons could be extracted, based on the number of skulls retrieved. The bones, along with clothing and personal items, went to the forensic lab for examination and identification.

  The discoveries shook the police superintendent. The divers reported the pond empty of any further human remains. Once the bodies, the skeletal remains and all items of clothing and other objects left the site, he shut down the operation. The pond held no more secrets. In less than a week, it had given up its dead and the police team had packed up and left.

  Walter successfully managed to keep the entire operation out of the pubic eye. Forensics quickly determined the skeletal remains were at least thirty to fifty years old, and the archive division received the bones for further investigation.

  The coroner’s office determined the cold spring water that fed the pond, and the lack of sunlight, given the dense shade over the area, kept the bodies well preserved. They determined death occurred from within a few weeks to a few years.

  Walter and Lucas got the order to lead the investigation into the recent deaths and, with their team of detectives and forensic specialists, waited patiently for lab results and identifications. They assigned uniformed officers to watch the pond, the racetrack, and the adjoining cornfields. The diving team had obliterated any possible evidence at the pond. Walter and his team needed the victim IDs to begin any real investigations.

  Saturday, September 17, 1966

  Saturday morning dawned sunny but crisp. Robert sat on the front porch, drinking coffee and enjoying the cool weather, when Walter pulled into the driveway at eight in the morning and surprised him.

  “Good morning. How is your investigation going?”

  “They’ve identified seven of the bodies. Two are still in limbo.”

  “Seven out of nine is good. Can I get you a cup of coffee? It’s ready. I just have to pour it.”

  “That sounds good. I could use coffee.” Walter sat down and looked across the road at the cornfield. He could see the police cruisers on the road and the officers watching the field.

  “You look unhappy. I thought you had identifications. That’s good, isn’t it?” Robert returned with a mug of coffee and handed it to Walter.

  “It’s good for our investigation. It’s hard informing people their loved one is dead. It’s worse when you have to tell them they were murdered.”

  “All of them were murdered?” Robert dropped into his chair.

  Walter nodded, took a drink of his coffee and sat for another minute before he continued.

  “Remember I told you and Steven about those bums who reported their friends killed and thrown into the pond?”

  “I remember the story, but you thought they were probably drunk.”

  “The two men they saw killed that night, Nathaniel Lassaline and Marvin Collins, their bodies came out of that water. The coroner puts their deaths at about three weeks ago. The timing is perfect. The report they filed had the names of the victims and their hometowns. We had enough information to notify their next of kin.”

  Robert looked at the field and then turned to Walter. “They claimed to have seen scarecrows and a young man. Did they see live scarecrows?”

  “I assume, since they got the murders right, the rest of their report could be accurate.”

  “But, how…” Robert stopped talking.

  Walter kept talking. “Three other bodies, all killed over a span of five years, matched local missing persons and have been identified by wallet information and clothing . They were all in this area when they disappeared.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

  Walter looked at his friend. “I don’t understand it myself. I can’t sit here and admit I’m looking for three murderous scarecrows. I just can’t do it.”

  “It’s ridiculous. You’re right. There has to be an answer.”

  “I understand that for you, it’s about Cathy.”

  Robert nodded. “Please go on. I need to know what’s happening.”

  Walter sipped his coffee before continuing. “There are two other bodies with no identification, and we checked local missing persons and found nothing that fit. We think they were probably transients. Time of death is in that two- to three-year time span. We’ll be sending their information out to other municipalities for possible IDs.”

  Walter hesitated. “I need your help.”

  “What can I do?” Robert sat on the edge of his chair, staring at the cornfield and holding the porch railing with both hands. “I’m a little confused and frustrated, but whatever you need, I’ll do my best.”

  “I knew you would help.” Walter took a breath and looked over toward the field. “A wallet found on one of two bodies, both killed three to four years ago, identified a young man as Lowell Lewiston, and a young woman as Mary Jessica Coulter. Photos inside the wallet showed them together. We have a missing persons file on the girl. Her mother claimed in her report her daughter left her house with the Lewiston boy and never came back.”

  Robert’s face lost all color and he stared straight ahead. “Jesse and Lowell dated.” He thou
ght for a moment. “My God, they killed them. Barry believed those two ran away to go live in a commune somewhere. He thought someday Lowell would come to his senses, come back home, and take over the farm.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t do these notifications very well. I never know what to say.”

  Robert, visibly shaken, shook his head as his eyes began to tear. “Barry will be destroyed when he hears this. We’ve known each other all our lives. I know this will be too much for him.” He turned to his friend. “You want me to tell him. Is that it?”

  Walter nodded and hung his head.

  They finished their coffee and walked up the road to Barry’s farm. The report from the fire inspector claimed someone had intentionally torched the barn. Robert found his neighbor outside, trying to get his tractor running. The vehicle had sustained heavy damage in the fire and Barry was trying to repair it. Jimmy sat under the tree in the front yard.

  Robert walked over to the tractor. “Barry, can I talk to you for a minute, please?”

  “I told you no one talks to Jimmy.” Barry never looked up.

  “This isn’t about him. Please, I need to talk to you.”

  Barry stepped back from the engine and, taking an old rag from his pocket, wiped grease from his hands. “I’ve got work to do and equipment to get running. What do you and your cop friend want from me? Does the barn need more investigating? By the way, why are all these damn cops surrounding my property?”

  “Barry, I’m sorry I have to tell you this. It’s about Lowell. He and Jesse didn’t move to a commune. They didn’t go anywhere. The police dragged the pond at the track and pulled their bodies out of the water. Someone murdered them.”

  Barry froze and stared at Robert for a moment. He slowly turned and stared at his youngest son. When he turned back, his eyes were wet and his hands shaking. He walked slowly into his house, leaving the two men where they stood. Robert knew he drank, and hoped Barry could drink enough to get through this one.

  Robert walked back over that evening and found his neighbor standing in the front window, whiskey bottle in hand, staring at the cornfields.