Evil Heights, Book III: Lost and Found

by Michael Swanson

  "Damn, Ronnie,” Lee waved away the smoke. “Blow it out the window."

  "You know, you ought to take up smokin'.” Ronnie squashed the Pall Malls back in his pocket. “You know all the really keen guys smoke."

  "Like you?"

  "Yeah, like me,” Ronnie shot back.

  "The stuff stinks.” Lee waved at a cloud. “Only good thing I can say about it is that it helps keep the mosquitoes away."

  "Suit yourself,” Ronnie said kicking back like the king of the world. “You don't know what you're missing."

  The inside of the tree house was decorated with pages torn out from a variety of magazines. Playboy was of course popular, and Ronnie's dad had a subscription. Some of the other faded and creased pictures had come from magazines not quite as discreet as Playboy. One picture, a favorite of Art's on any of his rare visits, featured a dark-haired woman, spread eagled into the camera lying on a hay bale with a pig under either arm. Where it had come from neither Lee nor Ronnie knew. It had just appeared, stapled up on the wall one day.

  "It really sucks, now that you've moved,” Ronnie said. “We used to hang out all the time, and now we hardly ever do anything."

  "The summer's just starting."

  "Like hell, it's almost Fourth of July,” Ronnie argued back. “They're gonna open up the fireworks stands next week."

  Lee felt a rush of excitement. The Fourth of July was the next best thing to Christmas or Halloween. For some reason, he hadn't really realized it was so close until just now.

  "You know Mrs. Ballard gave me a tip,” Lee said out of the blue. “After buying my dad's Father's Day present I've got enough money left to buy a couple gross of bottle rockets and a ton of Black Cats."

  Ronnie's had to be careful handling his cigarette. It was smashed and bent into the shape of a Z and more flat than round. Ronnie delicately held out his cigarette and just watched as the long ash broke off and fell to the floor. “Well, you just remember who your friends are when we go to the bottle rocket wars."

  Lee shook his head. “Look what you're doing to our tree house. You're worse than the guys who leave their trash in here."

  Ronnie looked down for a moment. The flattened and sticky slab of carpet covering the floor was a mess. Whatever color it might have been originally was impossible to tell now. It added a thickly pungent aroma to the tree house even the strongest cross breeze couldn't entirely chase away.

  "You got to be kidding,” he replied.

  Lee gave him his grin. “I'd like to see you flip an ash on the floor at home in front of your mom."

  It was Ronnie's turn to grin. “Wouldn't that be great, you know, if I could smoke at home?"

  "If your parents knew you smoked, your dad would figure out it was you who was stealing the open packs he leaves out on the coffee table at night. What would you do then?"

  Ronnie nodded. “Yeah, you're right there. I'd be a bitch if I had to pay for my own smokes."

  Lee scooted his milk crate closer up to the window facing the river. He really liked this spot and its beautiful bird's eye view of almost the whole river all the way to the far bank. Every time he was up here he told himself this was a greatest location. It almost always had a good breeze, and was easily accessible except for those rare occasions when Spit Creek was running high. Any kids floating on the river could see the tree house if they knew where to look up into the thick branches and shadows of the oak, but for the most part it all just blended right in.

  Ronnie finished his Pall Mall and pulling back the screen at his window he flipped the butt out using his forefinger and thumb. He kicked at the side of Lee's crate. “So what else have you been up to? No good?"

  Lee turned back in. “I got to nail ol’ Fat Larry's butt last Saturday.” Lee had been itching for a chance to tell someone about the coat hanger, and here it was already Thursday.

  Ronnie tilted his milk crate forward eagerly. “Yeah, what happened?"

  "Saturday I was in the train yard—"

  "Yeah right, you went in the train yard alone?” Ronnie cut him off sarcastically.

  "Well not exactly. I wasn't alone."

  Ronnie was visibly taken aback. “Yea, who were you with? I was running around with Phil and Billy and a few of the other guys. Who were you with,” he chuckled, “Art?"

  "Do you want to hear about it, or don't you?"

  "Yeah. Yeah. Don't get your britches in an uproar."

  "We were over at the train wreck, me and this new kid who's staying at the Riley's this summer.

  "Who in hell are the Riley's?” Ronnie asked.

  Lee pointed, reaching out with his arm reflexively in the direction of his house. “They're the folks who live in that house across from us."

  "That trashy dump? I didn't think anybody lived there."

  Lee nodded. “Yeah, pretty bad, huh?"

  "The place looks damn near as bad as the Willis’ house,” Ronnie came back, then added. “New kid, huh?"

  "Yeah. We were out there poking around, riding the pedal car and stuff, and Fat Larry came driving up while we were in the caboose. The idiot's got his stupid radio going full blast.” Lee made a disgusted face, and shaking his head he added, “Like he's really gonna sneak up on someone.” Lee swiveled about on his milk carton to face Ronnie and kicked back balancing with his back in the corner of the walls and his legs stretched out. “It's like he gets stupider and stupider every day."

  "Yeah,” Ronnie agreed. “What a spaz."

  "So, right off, I get this idea, and we jumped out and ran around between the cars, and as soon as he passes by we started pelting his ugly butt with rocks."

  "Aww. I wish I had been there,” Ronnie howled. “I bet y'all got him good."

  Lee was beginning to become excited as it all came back to him, and it showed as he used his hands to illustrate while he spoke. “We nailed him. You won't believe it, but I swear, the big dope was so pissed off he even got out of his car."

  Ronnie pushed back, visibly stunned. “Nah ... he actually hauled his fat butt out of the car?"

  Lee nodded. “It gets even better. Then he pulls out his pistol and starts shooting.” Lee made a gun with his right hand and holding his wrist with his left, popped off a couple of rounds.

  "What'd y'all do?” Ronnie's eyes were wide.

  "We got the hell out of Dodge, that's what. We ran like you've never seen all the way out through the front gate."

  "Why didn't y'all just run back and climb over your fence? That's what I would have done."

  Lee gave him a “boy are you stupid” look and said one word, “Maggie."

  Ronnie nodded, then asked, “So who's this new kid?"

  "Hang on,” Lee said, “I'm just getting to the good part. So we were walking back up Seminole, when ol’ dumb butt Larry comes roaring up the road. He had dust flying out the back like he was probably going a hundred miles an hour. I'm talking lickety-split. Since he'd recognize me right off if he saw me I jumped off in the bushes and got behind a stove to wait until he'd passed by. But the kid I'm with she just stood there."

  "What a dope,” Ronnie howled, and then realized what he'd heard. “She! What do you mean, she? A girl? You were running around with some girl? What girl?"

  "Her name's Phoebe.” Lee enjoyed finally dropping the bomb. “She's visiting here for the summer from Gatlinburg. Do you want to hear what happened or don't you?"

  "Yeah,” Ronnie looked a bit rattled. “Sure."

  "Okay, well, old stupid, he comes screeching up and starts hollering at her right off the bat. He'd taken one of our rocks right in the kisser and boy was he hot! I'm telling you Ronnie, he was as angry as a nest of pissed on yellow jackets. We'd really got him, too. He had this big ol’ red bruise.” Lee imitated a rock smashing into his cheek, which Ronnie found uproarious.

  "Y'all hit him in the face? Really?"

  Lee nodded. “He had a bruise about as big as an apple, right here.” Lee touched under his left eye. “So he's hollering and cussing and suddenl
y the idiot goes: ‘Shit fire, you're a girl ain't ya'?'” Letting his lips hang loose and not moving his tongue Lee managed a pretty fair imitation. Lee could really harangue and drawl like a backwoods redneck when he wanted to.

  Ronnie didn't get the last part. “Yeah, so?"

  "So? So?” Lee rocked forward. “She was wearing pigtails and a blouse! I mean, she's a girl, and that idiot didn't even notice. He's supposed to be a cop. What a dope."

  Ronnie nodded, but the punch to the joke had been lost.

  Pressing on, Lee continued. “So while he's giving her the third degree, I snuck around under the car and wrapped a coat hanger I'd found up into the back u-joint on his drive shaft."

  "Aww, damn!” Ronnie jumped up, knocking his milk crate over. “You're kiddin'? You hangered him?"

  Lee shook his head, grinning while he spoke. “I sure wish I could have been there to see ol’ dumbo ears when he put the pedal to the metal out on the highway and that coat hanger unwound and started beating hell out of the bottom of his car. I bet sparks were flying everywhere."

  Ronnie's raucous laughter was infectious, and both he and Lee fed off of each other enjoying a lengthy one at Fat Larry's expense.

  Finally, Ronnie said, “That's almost as good as the time we made the door stops, maybe even better."

  Remembering while laughing between breaths, Lee recounted, “I think that was one of my all-time best ideas. I got the idea at church, of all places. They had a doorstop in the bathroom, I guess for the janitor to keep the door open, made of a wedge of two by four. It was great it didn't cost us a thing to cut out our wedges from those warped two by fours we had left over from the tree house and using your dad's table saw. How many did we cut?” He paused, expecting Ronnie to help out, but Ronnie didn't offer anything, so he just continued. “It was all just too simple. All we had to do was tie a piece of string through the hole we drilled through the end and—"

  "Oh, yeah,” Ronnie jumped in. “I don't think there was a building downtown we didn't hit.” Ronnie stood with his back flat to the wall as though he was skulking. “Every restroom we went to, you'd go in and check it out while I watched, or you kept look out outside while I went in, and when there wasn't anyone inside we'd put the door stop down and then go out and close the door.” Ronnie got down on his knees and acted the story out, pantomiming every action. “Then we'd pull the wedge of two by four up until it was good and tight and the string broke. You'd have to Charles Atlas to push that door open. I'll bet people about died before they found a bathroom they could get into."

  Again the boys enjoyed a rousing fit of laughter.

  "That was one of your best,” Ronnie agreed, coughing as he tried to catch his breath. “Of course, another good one was last fall, spreading those puddles of mushed up vegetable soup around the school cafeteria and in the halls outside the restrooms. That was a corker. It looked like kids had been throwing up all over!"

  "It was the little touch of vinegar we added that gave it just the right smell,” Lee said wrinkling up his nose. “But, that was a breeze compared to the doorstops. All we had to do was pour the soup out of the bottle and run.” Lee grinned his patent grin. “Doing the doors at the men's rooms wasn't so bad. But, I felt pretty weird hanging around the women's bathrooms hoping like hell everyone had come out before opening the door to slide in the doorstop. Could you imagine if you'd opened the door and you're kneeling down with the piece of two by four and some woman like Mrs. Voorman comes out of the stall and is standing right there?"

  Ronnie found that so funny he slapped his knee. “Ahhh!” he yelled, his face blooming red. “Mrs. Voorman! I think I'd have pissed my own pants!"

  "I imagine a few people did, or almost anyway.” Lee was starting to lose control laughing and talking as best he could. “The mayor was probably out back in the alley pissing on a wall with the bums!"

  "The sheriff, too!” Ronnie added. “Can you imagine the women going into Patterson's with their little kids cryin', ‘mamma I gotta go pee,’ and the door is shut tighter than a ticks butt!"

  Laughing and carrying on about this for quite some time it was Lee who finally started to settle back down enough to say a complete sentence. “I don't think anyone ever had a clue about who was responsible for the doorstops. We smoked them on that one. But, remember, Maggie got mad wondering what ever happened to her four cans of soup I scarfed from the pantry? She was sure it had something to do with me. It was worth it, though. It did really look like vomit, didn't it?” Lee was chuckling again. “Remember, they even called the city health department out to come inspect the cafeteria and find out what was making everybody so sick?"

  "All they need to do if they want to find out what makes everybody sick is eat there.” Ronnie opened his mouth and put a finger in, acting like he was gagging. “The food wouldn't be so bad I guess,” Ronnie managed a grim face, “if they didn't get their meat from old road kill out on the highway."

  "I think the cook was always more partial to the squashed possums and coons than stray dogs and cats,” Lee said. “I won't miss that cafeteria, that's for sure.” He stood up, bracing his arms on either side of the window and momentarily leaned in and pressed his nose up against the screen. “One more year and you won't have to worry about stupid Junior High, either. It'll be keen-o when we're both in High School."

  "Yeah,” Ronnie said with a trace of misery. “You'll probably graduate before I ever get there. I can't believe they're boosting you up a whole year. You make as many A's as that snooty Gail Tabor, and hell, you don't ever study. Never! It ain't fair, I'm telling ya.” He stopped suddenly, obviously reminded about what they'd just been talking about. “Hey, quit avoiding the subject and tell me about this girl you've been running around with?"

  "We ain't been runnin’ ‘round.” Lee drawled back like his mouth was full of mush. Whether because of Maggie or not, he really did rarely use ain't, except when flustered or the situation demanded he talk down to fit in.

  Ronnie reached out and shoved Lee on the shoulder. “Who do you think you're fooling? Hell, I know you better than you do.” He, too, put on a heavy accent. “She ain't no dawg is she? Ain't she pretty? Or does she have fleas and go run ‘round on all fours goin’ bow-wow?"

  Lee fended Ronnie's hand away and affected a terribly unconvincing job of looking angry. “If you don't keep your hands off of me you might start flappin’ your chicken wings and get ready to do some flying out of this here tree house."

  "Oh yeah, like I'm really scared.” Ronnie cowered down and trembled his hands. “Mercy! Oh mercy!” he pleaded. Then getting back up he added, “Quit avoiding the question. She must be some kind of snaggly toothed carnival geek if you don't want to tell me about her."

  "Yeah, you wish,” Lee shot back, dropping the accent. “Phoebe's pretty, real pretty."

  "How pretty?” Ronnie shot back.

  "Prettier than Ann Palmer! Prettier than Cindy Rhodes, even!"

  "Oooh-la-la,” Ronnie's smile spread from ear to ear.

  Lee stepped back and ran his hands down from his head to his shoulders. “You should see her hair, it's not too long, but not too short and like a kind of blonde color, but sort of coppery, too."

  "What do you mean, blonde and coppery? Like a copperhead?” Ronnie found this terribly funny.

  Lee just shook his head. He had to think for a moment. “How it looks depends on the light; sometimes it almost looks gold and sometimes kind of reddish. The couple of times I've been with her she's always had it up in pig tails or a pony tail, but I bet it's something when she wears it down.” For a moment he was lost in contemplation, but suddenly came back and added, “And she's got these freckles all down her nose and cheeks. She's what you'd call a baby doll, a cutie, with a capital Q,” Lee grinned, then quickly added. “But she's not some wishy-washy mamma's baby. For a girl she seems to be pretty rambunctious. Talks a lot, too, but mainly when she gets excited. I don't mind, though. She doesn't talk like a normal girl.” Lee had become caught up,
and he let out with a steady stream of excited description, rare for him. “She's interesting. You know she told me she's pulled some pretty good stunts, too. She did this one thing she made me swear not to tell anyone."

  "Yeah?” Ronnie said eagerly. “What was it?"

  "She made me promise not to say anything to anyone."

  Ronnie pinned his finger to the center of his chest. “Even me?"

  "Sorry, I promised,” Lee came back. “It really was a doozey. I'm sure whenever you get to meet her we can talk her into telling you about it. Let's see, what else? She's the oldest in her family, and has a couple of little sisters. She's got these long legs and can really run. She showed me that when we skedaddled from Fat Larry when the idiot started shooting at us. She's got to be the fastest girl I've ever seen. I didn't have to wait up for her hardly at all. And she's got this back woods Tennessee accent that's pretty thick.” Lee attempted an imitation. “It just drips like butter on a biscuit, y'all.” Reverting back to normal as Ronnie looked on the verge of another fit of laughter, Lee continued. “Anyway, you can tell right off she's not from around here. I mean, she sounds like she's from the sticks, pure redneck, but it's not stupid redneck. I think she's really pretty smart, though she says she doesn't like school and doesn't make good grades. But, you can see it in her eyes; she's quick. Oh yeah, her eyes, they're a kind of blue, I think. Not a deep blue, but not sky blue either. I don't know. Let's see. What else? She's about yea tall.” He held up his hand, and then bringing up his other he brought them both down illustrating the shape of an hourglass. “Great figure, too. Stacked. Remember Susan Bell? Like her in the body, only better."

  Ronnie was impressed. “Did she let ya get any?"

  Lee's glared back at Ronnie.

  "Oooh, damn!” Ronnie exploded. He grabbed Lee by the arm. “You gotta tell me all about it. Every little bit."

  "What makes you think there's anything to tell?” Lee tried to face the window, but Ronnie wouldn't let him get off the hook so easily.

  "Like hell, there ain't nothing to tell! Yeah, sure? I know you. When your face gets like that, something's going on.” He pushed Lee on the shoulder again and gave him a serious squint. “You maybe able to fool adults like Fat Larry or Maggie, but not me. You hafta tell. This is me, Ronnie, remember?"