by Mark Deloy
I didn’t say a word. I only pulled out my own picture and placed it on the table next to Connor’s. A picture that, to my knowledge, Connor had never seen and one that had been taken a half century ago.
Lisa’s hand that had been on her son’s picture went to her mouth and started shaking. I reached out and grabbed her other hand instinctively.
“Wha…What is that?” she asked. “Where did you get that picture?”
“It’s a photo Jim and I found in my house, in my grandparent’s house, yesterday. It was taken in 1965.”
“How can this be happening? Who is that?” Tears were now coming to her eyes. She was raising her voice and I was afraid others in the diner might think something was wrong. Something was wrong, but I didn’t want anyone around us to know it. There were only a few old guys at the counter, but I could feel their eyes on us now.
“I don’t know. Maybe we’d better take a step back and calm down a little.”
She looked at me and I thought for a minute she was going to lose it, have a level three meltdown in the middle of Breece’s Café, or maybe just get up and leave. But then she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It just freaked me out. You could have warned me.”
“Yes, I should have. I’m sorry, but it shocked me, too, when you took Connor’s picture out. We just found that photo yesterday. And I have no idea who that is between the trees, but the other guy is my grandfather.”
“Jesus, Hick. That can’t be human. Look how big it is.”
“I know. I saw it up close.”
And there it was. I was about to share Jim’s and my little conspiracy with one more person.
“What? When?”
“I guess I need to start at the beginning.” I quietly recounted everything that had happened, starting with the first night I’d moved in, and ending with the fire. When I finished, Lisa was quiet for a long time. Finally, she sipped her coffee and looked at me.
“I believe you,” she said. “I know you think your story is completely crazy, and maybe it is, but I believe you saw what you saw. I don’t have any other explanation.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved she didn’t think I was a kook. “So now what?”
“We stay out of the woods. You sell the place and move.”
I smiled at her. “I can’t do that. The place is mine. It’s my family’s.”
“What do you think that thing, whatever it is, did to those kids?”
“I don’t know.,” I said, hanging my head. “And I don’t know why it took them in the first place. I just hope they eventually return to normal.”
“Do you think this has happened before?” Lisa asked. I could tell her reporter brain was kicking into high gear. “Obviously, this thing has been around for a long time. This can’t be the first time this has happened.”
“Probably, I don’t know. There have to be records if kids have disappeared before, right?”
“Way ahead of you,” she declared, whipping out her iPhone and tapping away.
“Nothing online,” she said, after about ten minutes, putting her phone away. “But I know someone who might know. Things like that may not have been reported back then, especially if a family member was suspected, as is often the case in those kinds of crimes.”
“Who would know for sure?”
“Talbot Simms. He’s eighty, but sharp as a tack. He’s lived here his whole life. He ran the town’s museum when there still was one. It wasn’t much, just a small room in the basement of the courthouse. I remember we went on a field trip to the courthouse when I was in third grade and they brought us down there. Talbot was old back then, and now he’s ancient, but he remembers everything that’s happened in this town, going back seventy years.”
“When can we see him?”
“Tomorrow, probably after church. He’s up at Willow Bend retirement home. I’m sure visiting hours are done for today.”
“Sounds good to me… it’s a date. I’m glad you’re going to church tomorrow. I’m doubtful many people will show up.”
“I’ll be there, but Connor will be spending the day with my sister. I don’t know how he would handle going back there so soon.”
“I understand. And Jim will, too. Should we ask him to go with us to talk to Talbot? Maybe not, he’s got a lot going on right now.”
Lisa nodded. “Have you told Jensen any of this?”
“God, no. He’d probably have me committed.”
“You’re probably right,” she laughed, but then grew serious again. “Connor is having these dreams. Do you think this thing is somehow communicating with him? You know, since Connor saw it.”
“I have to be honest, the thought crossed my mind, especially after seeing that picture. Just keep him safe. Make sure he’s always with someone.”
“I will. I thank God he wasn’t one of the ones taken.”
“I bet you do, and hopefully this is nothing but his imagination working alongside what he saw.”
Lisa nodded and took a bite of the pie the waitress had just delivered to her. I got apple and she had blueberry. Mine was delicious and just as I remembered it. Warm, tangy and with a perfect crust. I always got a scoop of vanilla ice cream to go along with it. The ice cream slowly melted as I combined spoonfuls of it, apple filling, and crust into amazing mouthfuls of sweet perfection.
I noticed Lisa was eyeing my pie a la mode and I offered her some. She accepted and closed her eyes as she enjoyed a forkful.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” she remarked. “I’ll have to get it next time.”
“I’ve been getting this ever since I was ten and my grandparents brought me here. The recipe hasn’t changed.”
After we finished, I paid the check and walked her out to her car.
“Thanks for the pie and the conversation,” she said, leaning against her car. “This has me worried and scared.”
“Me, too. I’m sort of waiting for the whole town to turn on me. If this was a dime-store detective novel, they already would have.”
“Well, things like this usually don’t happen here, and people don’t automatically turn on strangers. Besides, your family is well known, and you aren’t exactly a stranger.”
“I know, but a lot has happened since I got here.”
“Are you trying to make a case against yourself?”
I laughed. “No, but, people have to be talking. I’m just glad I had an alibi when the kids were taken.”
“Yeah, standing right next to me,” she said and then looked at me. Our eyes lingered and I knew I could have kissed her if I wanted to, but spoke instead.
“So tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she nodded, breaking eye contact. “How’s ten?”
“Perfect. Do you want to make it nine and come back here for breakfast?”
She smiled, and I knew I hadn’t lost my chance with her. She probably just wasn’t used to old-fashioned guys who took things slow.
“Yeah, I’d like that. Although you have to promise you’re still going to ask me out when I’ve gained two-hundred pounds.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll bet you eat whatever you want.”
“Not hardly,” she chuckled and got into her car.
“Goodnight, Lisa. Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy.”
“G’nite Hick. And I’m not convinced yet,” she said with a straight face, but then cracked a smile, lit a cigarette and drove away.
“Funny girl,” I said to myself and drove home, alone, wishing I’d kissed her.
25
When I got home, Girl needed to go out. She was dancing around the door and then started scratching on it.
“I told you not to drink all that water earlier,” I told her as I opened the screen door. She went out, did her business and then came and sat on the porch. I decided to make some coffee, even though I’d already had some at the diner, and sit outside for a while. The night was still warm and the stars were bright. The moon hadn’t risen yet. I got
up from the rocking chair and looked around the side of the house towards the fields.
It had gotten very dark, despite the starlight, and I couldn’t see anything besides the black hulk of the tent. Nothing moved as far as I could see. I went back and sat down, petting Girl and propping my feet on the porch railing. It was eerily quiet. Normally there are crickets, birds and other night noises, but tonight everything was nearly silent. I could see the massive blackness of the forest on all sides of the house. No starlight penetrated through the trees. Anything could be in there, watching, waiting. I gave myself a chill, then laughed nervously. Girl looked up at me and whined.
“It’s okay, Girl,” I said, and sipped my coffee.
The cordless phone rang next to me, and I spilled a little coffee down the front of my white shirt.
“Hello,” I said, as I swiped at the coffee with my hand, making it worse.
“Hey Hick. It’s Jensen.”
My heart leapt up in my throat for a second, thinking Lisa had told her cousin everything.
“Hey,” I managed.
“Just calling to check on things,” he said, and I could tell by his tone my paranoia was unwarranted. “You’ve had a lot of excitement out there lately.”
“Uh, yeah you can say that again. Any word on how the kids are doing?”
“No, not really. I suspect the parents will want to have their alone time with them, try to work things out for themselves. Then, when they realize they are in over their heads, they’ll call some child psychiatrist in Nashville to talk with them, and I’ll never hear a thing about what happened to them because of doctor-patient confidentiality”
“You’re probably right. I’m sure they think they know what’s best for their kids, but they should also be trying to make sure this doesn’t happen to any other kids.”
“Exactly. The powers that be tell me this touchy-feely world is here to stay and that I’d better get used to it.”
“I thought you were the powers that be,” I said.
Jensen laughed. “Everyone has to answer to someone. For me, it’s the town council and the mayor. The people elect me, and ultimately, I answer to them, but the council decides what kind of funding I have to do my job. We’ll never be the type of town that has armored vehicles and a SWAT team, but I’d like to be able to hire a new deputy next spring.”
“I hear ya. And to answer your first question, everything is pretty quiet out here. That may change in the morning when they bring out the equipment to demolish and haul away what’s left of Jim’s church.”
“That’s a shame,” Jensen said.
“Yeah, it really is,” I said.
“Hick”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think those kids burned that church down? I mean surely not the little one, but maybe the oldest, Mike. He could have spread that turpentine around and lit a match.”
“Did the fire inspector rule it an arson?”
“Shit, I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”
“It’s ok,” I said. “The fire inspector inferred as much the other day when I talked to him.”
“So what do you think? You were the first person on the scene besides those kids.”
“I didn’t tell you this the other day, but they were all smiling when I came up on them. Their faces were completely blank later, but while they were watching that church burn, those kids were smiling, Jensen. It could be nothing, but I thought it was pretty weird.”
“Yeah, it is. But what the hell do I do with that? It doesn’t prove anything. Without you or another eyewitness actually seeing them doing it, or their fingerprints on the cans of turpentine, I can’t prove anything. And could you imagine the parents’ reaction to that one?! I’d be crucified in the court of public opinion.”
“True,” I agreed. “So, I guess you wait and see if the kids snap out of whatever’s wrong with them. Or maybe just one of them does, and starts talking.”
“I hope so. To be honest, the church burning down is the least of my problems right now. Every parent in the county is terrified there is a kidnapper at large. It was nice of you to offer to let Jim hold regular services on your land in the tent, but I seriously doubt he’ll get much of a turnout, and I’d be downright shocked if anyone brought their kids to church there.”
“I was actually thinking that same thing, earlier. I almost wish now I hadn’t offered. I’m sure he felt obligated to accept my offer instead of finding a building for lease in town.”
“Everything will calm down. Especially when we catch the son of a bitch.”
“I hope so.”
“So, how’s Lisa?” Jensen asked. “Have you talked with her? I’ve been meaning to swing out by her place to check on her and Connor, but as you know, things have been crazy.”
“I met her at Breece’s earlier for coffee and pie. She’s good, and says Connor is okay. He’s still having dreams about the kidnappings and drawing pictures of that guy. “
I thought about adding I hope he didn’t really look like what Connor was drawing, but hated being overly deceptive, since I’d seen the tall creature face to face.
“I’ll make sure I take a ride out there to check on her after I finish up here.”
“You still at work?” I asked incredulously, looking at my watch. It was ten after eight.
“Yes, a public servant’s work is never done.”
“Remind me never to get into law enforcement.”
“Will do. I wish someone would have reminded me.”
“Have a good night, sheriff. Tell Lisa and Connor I said hi.”
“Nite, Hick,” he said, and hung up.
I sat the phone down and looked up at the night sky. Clouds had moved in covering the stars, making the woods even darker. I knew I needed to go back into them and see if I could find the house again, maybe find some answers, but to be fully truthful, I was afraid. I wanted to take Lisa’s advice and just put the house up for sale, pack up and move far away from here. Then I had a terrible thought. What if the house and the tall creature followed me wherever I went? It was something that made no logical sense, but I thought it anyway. I decided no matter what, I was going to face this and find out what was going on.
26
The next day, church services were scheduled for ten A.M. with no Sunday school. Jim said he would see what kind of turnout they had and if there was any demand for Sunday school, then schedule accordingly for next Sunday. He also talked about holding a Wednesday night Bible study and discussion group. I told him, depending on how many people showed up, they could hold that on my back patio. It had been a long time since I’d sat in on a Bible study group and I knew Jim would make it interesting.
As nine-thirty rolled around, I started to see people trickle in. There was nowhere near the turnout of the revival, but it was obvious by nine-forty-five that Jim’s congregation was still intact. I was glad to see people weren’t letting their fear get the better of them. I was also sure daylight had a way of dispelling their fears as well. There were even a few children in the backseats of cars driving past the house. Jim offered no daycare service and no one asked for one. As the people found their seats, I noticed parents were holding their children a little closer to them, and kept a better eye on them if they wandered over to see their friends.
Jim started the meeting with a short prayer, thanking the good Lord for the return of the three children. I noticed the Holst, Baker and Harris families were not present, not that I blamed them.
The sermon was more of a Bible study. I found Jim to be just as interesting while leading a Bible study as he was while preaching. His discussion was on Genesis 14:1-24, courage through faith. Jim told the story of Abram and how he receives the call from God and struggles to obey and come to terms with all that this calling means for his life and his future. He travels through the ups and downs of life with God until the promise starts to take shape. Hence, the story of Abraham is the story of the nature of faith itself.
About half w
ay through the study, Lisa sat down beside me and gave me a brilliant smile. Her leg brushed mine and I smiled back.
“Sorry I’m late,” she whispered. “Babysitter issues.”
I nodded.
Jim finished up around noon. The study was good overall, but I was glad when the end came so Lisa and I could go up and visit Talbot Simms at Willow Bend.
When the Bible study finished up, Lisa and I mingled through the crowd a bit until we reached Jim.
“Hey, looks like you got a pretty good turnout,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Yes, much better than I’d hoped. I imagine having the children back has helped. Although, there is an issue with them I want to discuss with you.”
“Is it okay if I give you a call tonight? Lisa and I have an appointment this afternoon. Maybe you can come over for coffee later?”
“Of course,” Jim said. I’ll be home anytime after four.”
I was going to ask Jim to join us, but he looked tired and I felt bad putting our talk off until later. I could tell something was bothering him.
***
Lisa and I got up to Willow Bend retirement home around one. We pulled into the half empty parking lot just as dark clouds started moving in. The wind was also picking up, blowing sand and papers across under our feet as we quickly walked to the double, sliding doors. We got inside just as the first few drops began hitting the pavement.
“I should have grabbed my umbrella,” Lisa said. “It looks like it’s gonna’ get bad.”
“I think so, too, but I love summer storms,” I commented. “Let’s find Talbot.”
We walked down the deserted hallway. There were the usual smells of Lysol and antiseptic. The place was clean and seemed like more like an apartment building than a hospital. We found a nurse who was sitting at a small desk reading a Stephen King book. It was Misery, a classic.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Where is Talbot Simms’s room?”
“Two-fifteen,” she said, pointing with her glasses she’d taken off when we interrupted her reading. “Elevator is at the end of the hall.”
