Whisper Down the Lane

by Clay Chapman

  BELLAMY: There’s no Sean in my class. There are plenty of Seans in our school.

  MERRIN: It’s possible it could’ve been someone else? Someone outside of class?

  BELLAMY: Maybe. Sandy’s mom—Miss Levin said it was someone in our class.

  MERRIN: You agree? Disagree?

  BELLAMY: There’s no Sean in our class.

  BURSTYN: Yeah, but…what do you think? About it being some other student?

  BELLAMY: I don’t know.

  MERRIN: Why didn’t you bring it up with the principal?

  BELLAMY: I did.

  BURSTYN: You did?

  BELLAMY: We had a conversation about Miss Levin this morning.

  BURSTYN: And that’s it? Case closed?

  BELLAMY: There wasn’t time to follow up.

  BURSTYN: Rich. I know it’s been a pretty shitty day for you. We get that. But here’s the thing…It’s starting to feel like there’s a lot of crap circling around you. You notice that? You got one hell of a storm cloud hanging over your head right now…and it’s fucking raining down on you. Real hard. Why do you think that is?

  BELLAMY: I’m here because I want to be. I came in because I wanted to set—

  BURSTYN: You did, that’s true—

  BELLAMY: —to set the record straight. That’s all I want to do.

  MERRIN: That’s what we want, too. We want to hear your side of the story.

  BELLAMY: I need to—I want to just make sure that this isn’t—

  BURSTYN: Tell us your story, Rich. That’s all we’re after here.

  BELLAMY: I could lose my job. Christ, I could lose my job over this.

  MERRIN: Why’d she lie? Why would Miss Levin lie about something like this?

  BELLAMY: I think there’s—there’s something wrong with her.

  BURSTYN: That’s your medical opinion?

  BELLAMY: You want me to answer the question or not?

  BURSTYN: Go ahead.

  BELLAMY: Sandy is—I don’t know. Anxious. Something’s going on with her.

  MERRIN: How so? How do you know?

  BELLAMY: She keeps to herself. Timid. You can tell with certain students that there’s, there might be something, I don’t know, something going on at home. With their parents. With Sandy, it just seemed like, like her mom was a handful.

  BURSTYN: Miss Levin’s a handful?

  BELLAMY: You asked. I’m telling you what I—what I—what I’ve witnessed.

  MERRIN: How is Sandy in the classroom?

  BELLAMY: Fine. Just…on her own a lot of the time. In her shell.

  MERRIN: Does she have any friends?

  BELLAMY: Yeah. Well—no. No, none that I can think of off the top of my head.

  MERRIN: You ever see any bruises? Any marks?

  BELLAMY: No. None.

  MERRIN: Did you look? You’d notice something like that, right? Bruises?

  BELLAMY: I mean, if they were visible…Yes. And if I had seen them, I would’ve reported them directly to the principal. To Mrs. Condrey.

  BURSTYN: Sure you would’ve.

  BELLAMY: What’s that supposed to mean?

  BURSTYN: Nothing.

  BELLAMY: No—what did you mean by that?

  MERRIN: You’re tired. Maybe we should do this another time? When you’re—

  BELLAMY: I know how this looks. But it’s not true. It’s not. I need—need to—

  BURSTYN: We get it.

  BELLAMY: Then why are you looking at me like that?

  BURSTYN: Like what?

  BELLAMY: Like I’m—like I’m…

  MERRIN: Nothing’s come up in class before? No other complaints? No fights?

  BELLAMY: Why don’t you ask Mrs. Condrey?

  BURSTYN: We’re asking you.

  BELLAMY: No, no complaints.

  MERRIN: No problems with any other students? Their parents?

  BELLAMY: No.

  BURSTYN: You ever done anything to anybody that, I don’t know, they’d be angry over? Ever get in a disagreement with somebody or an altercation?

  BELLAMY: No. Absolutely not.

  BURSTYN: Nobody’s ever got any reason to get back at you for anything?

  BELLAMY: (…)

  MERRIN: Nobody would have it out for you, Richard?

  BELLAMY: (…)

  MERRIN: Richard?

  BELLAMY:…No.

  BURSTYN: Come again? Lost you there for a second.

  BELLAMY: No.

  BURSTYN: So. Let’s put it this way. Yeah, you came in. Yeah, you’re here of your own volition. And that’s all good. That makes our job a lot easier.

  BELLAMY: I didn’t do anything, I swear…

  MERRIN: You sure you’re not misremembering anything? Maybe there’s something you’re forgetting? Something you’re not telling us?

  BELLAMY: I didn’t do anything. How many times do I have to say it?

  BURSTYN: It’s all right. We’re all friends here. You can tell us.

  BELLAMY: Tell you what? What is there to tell? I didn’t do—

  BURSTYN: You got to see this as an opportunity, Rich. This is your one and only chance to get out in front of the story, you know? Before it takes on a life of its own.

  MERRIN: All we want to hear is the truth.

  BELLAMY: I have been telling you the truth!

  BURSTYN: Feels like you might be hiding something. Or forgetting something? How about that? People forget things all the time—and then, one day, oh, there it is, right outta the blue. “How could I ever forget that?” Know what I’m saying?

  BELLAMY: I have nothing to hide.

  BURSTYN: See…Richard, when you say stuff like that…Hate to break it to you…

  BELLAMY: What? What?

  MERRIN: It makes you sound like you have something to hide.

  BELLAMY: But I don’t—

  BURSTYN: Maybe you don’t want to remember. Maybe you’ve done something and you’re trying to hide it from yourself. Shit like that happens all the time.

  BELLAMY: You can’t be serious. Are—are you serious right now?

  BURSTYN: You’d be surprised what people lie to themselves about. People lie to themselves all the time. You just gotta be honest with yourself, Rich. Come clean.

  BELLAMY: I haven’t done any—

  BURSTYN: Only a matter of time, Richard.

  BELLAMY: Whoa, wait…Hold on. Just—just hold on. What’s going on here?

  MERRIN: Get it off your chest.

  BELLAMY: You—you don’t think I—think I actually did this?

  BURSTYN: Come on, Richie…You don’t have to deny it. Not with us.

  BELLAMY: I’m not denying anything!

  MERRIN: We’re going to find out what we want to find out, sooner or later. And if we find out you’ve been lying to us, well, then, you’re in a whole heap of trouble.

  BELLAMY: There’s nothing to—

  BURSTYN: You came in here…all on your own. That says a lot, don’t you think?

  MERRIN: Speaks volumes.

  BURSTYN: The truth shall set you free, as they say.

  BELLAMY: But I—I didn’t…I…

  BURSTYN: You’ll feel better if you do. Get it off your chest. All of this goes away.

  MERRIN: Like a dam breaking.

  BELLAMY: Jesus Christ, what the fuck is this? What are you doing?

  BURSTYN: Let it go, Rich. Tell us the truth.

  BELLAMY: I think—I think I’ve said enough.

  BURSTYN: Oh, now you’ve had enough? You’re done now?

  BELLAMY: I want to go home now.

  MERRIN: In a little bit.

  BELLAMY: I want to go home.


  BURSTYN: What if we want to keep you a little longer?

  BELLAMY: You…You can’t do that. Can you? You said so. I’m here of my own—of my own volition.

  BURSTYN: Yeah, that was before. This is now.

  MERRIN: You’re a person of interest. Your story is really interesting to us.

  BURSTYN: We’re just getting to the good part. Don’t hold back on us now, Richie. Stick around. Just a little longer. Just to chat. That’s all we want. Hand to God.

  MERRIN: You’ll feel better. Getting all this out of your system.

  BELLAMY: Would you stop saying that? There’s nothing to—

  BURSTYN: You think that, maybe, there was one day? In class? Just you and—

  BELLAMY: No—

  BURSTYN: Maybe, just maybe, Sandy is looking for some help…

  BELLAMY: Oh, Jesus—

  BURSTYN: You’re her teacher. She looks up to you…

  BELLAMY: No.

  BURSTYN: No?

  BELLAMY: I—I can’t see myself doing this. Any of this. I—I just can’t…

  BURSTYN: Nobody ever does, believe me. See it.

  MERRIN: That doesn’t mean they didn’t do it.

  BURSTYN: Seeing is believing. So it’s better to just…flip the blinders on.

  MERRIN: Maybe even imagine it’s someone else doing it? “It doesn’t even feel like I’m doing it, somebody else is.” “It’s just like watching a movie.”

  BELLAMY: No. No. No no no…

  MERRIN: Just tell us. Tell us what you did.

  BURSTYN: Think of it as a flick. “It didn’t feel real. It was like watching a movie…” Something like that. So tell us what happened in the movie of your life.

  BELLAMY: I—I think I’m—I’m going to be sick. I need to go to the bathroom…

  BURSTYN: Keep it together, Richie. Just for a little while longer.

  BELLAMY: Can I get a—a trashcan? A bucket?

  BURSTYN: Quit playing around, man. Buck the fuck up.

  MERRIN: Breathe, Richard. Just breathe. In, out…In, out…

  BURSTYN: Better now? Got something on your mind that you wanna get out?

  BELLAMY: No…

  MERRIN: It’s for the better. You’ll remember. Sooner or later.

  BURSTYN: They always do.

  BELLAMY: But—why? Why don’t I remember? Why wouldn’t I remember?

  MERRIN: Would you? Would you really want to remember something like this?

  BURSTYN: Better to bury it. Stuff it in a box. Lock it up in the back of the brain.

  MERRIN: And toss away the key.

  BURSTYN: You never know what else is back there. Maybe something that happened to you when you were a kid, with a family member. An uncle, maybe a neighbor, something you’ve tried to forget for a long time now…

  MERRIN: History’s repeating itself.

  BURSTYN: That’s where we need to go, Rich. That’s what you need to remember.

  MERRIN: Crack it open. Key or no key.

  BURSTYN: Get it off your chest. Relieve yourself.

  MERRIN: Unburden thyself, son.

  BURSTYN: Let it all come flooding out.

  BELLAMY: I…I’m not…

  BURSTYN: This victim shit isn’t doing you any favors. Coming in here and claiming you’re all innocent isn’t helping. Fuck that noise. What would help you now, the only thing that’s gonna save your ass, is you starting to tell the truth.

  BELLAMY: If this is true then—then it’s a part of me I don’t even know about.

  BURSTYN: That’s understandable. Wall it off, right? Hell, I would. But now you need to take a sledgehammer to that wall and break through. Bust it down.

  BELLAMY: I—I can’t—I don’t want to remember…

  BURSTYN: But it’s there, isn’t it? Somewhere in the way, way back?

  BELLAMY: I…oh God…

  BURSTYN: There it is. You can see it, can’t you?

  BELLAMY: Oh God…

  BURSTYN: Almost there…Almost got it…Just a little bit further…

  BELLAMY: No. Please, stop.

  MERRIN: We’re trying to help you, Richard.

  BURSTYN: We want to help. Make it easy for yourself. Do the right thing here.

  MERRIN: It’s not what you remember, it’s about what you don’t remember.

  BELLAMY: I don’t want to…want to remember any of it.

  MERRIN: See? Your brain is working overtime to keep you from remembering. It’s trying to protect you by forgetting. Instead of you racking your brain over what you remember, start with what you don’t…

  BURSTYN: Think of Sandy…

  MERRIN: Yes—think of Sandy. Do it for her.

  BELLAMY: For Sandy…

  BURSTYN: That’s it. For Sandy.

  BELLAMY: For Sean.

  MERRIN:…Richard?

  BELLAMY: (…)

  BURSTYN: Hey. Richie? Where’d you go?

  BELLAMY: I want a lawyer.

  BURSTYN: Ah, come on…Don’t do that. Not now. Not while the getting’s good. We were just getting somewhere! You go that way, you lawyer up on us, Richie, I swear to fucking Christ, on my mother’s fucking grave…We will come after you. We will come after you so fucking hard, you won’t know what hit you. You’ll get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. Do you understand that this is your one and only chance to do something right? To make this right and make it all go away? You get this shot once in a fucking lifetime, my friend, and it’s right here, right fucking now. You lawyer up, so help me, you’ll never get this chance again.

  MERRIN: This is your chance to atone. To confess.

  BURSTYN: You know what they do to fucks like you in prison, Richie? Do you know what they will do to you when they find out why you’re there? You won’t last a fucking night, Richie. You won’t live to see your first fucking sunset.

  MERRIN: Richard. Please. This is your last chance. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to the people you love. Your family. Talk to us. Before it’s too late.

  BELLAMY: (…)

  MERRIN: Richard?

  BELLAMY: I want my lawyer.

  (INTERVIEW TERMINATED.)

  DAMNED IF YOU DON’T

   RICHARD: 2013

  There’s an elderly woman in the police station parking lot who won’t stop staring at me. I’ve never seen her before in my life. She’s not a part of the influx of young homeowners. Definitely old Danvers. Born, and born again, right here. Her shoulders sag forward, her spine drooping like a question mark that lost its lower bulb. She pushes an empty cart through the lot, halting long enough to take me in.

  She’s wearing a T-shirt two sizes too big for her frame. Printed on the front, it reads: jesus saves. On the back: because he shops at walmart.

  She’s looking at me like we know each other. Have always known each other. Her eyes trail after me as I leave the station. The woman won’t stop staring, even after I open the passenger door to Tamara’s Cherokee and duck in. We lock eyes once more through the window.

  Miss Betty. She looks exactly like Miss Betty. I haven’t thought about her in years. She smiles at me, as if she’s just recognized me, and waves. The moment her hand fans through the air, it blurs. Her fingers distort into a hazy smudge. Her lips pull back to expose a row of dried corn kernels. Diced vegetables spill from her mouth, green beans and cubed carrots tumbling down her chin. I pinch my eyes shut and push the image away as Tamara pulls out from the lot.

  I spent eight hours at the precinct. Whenever I insisted on leaving, Detective Merrin found an excuse to keep me. Just one more question, he kept saying. Hold on a minute…

  One more thing…

  Almost done…

  This was a game to them. There were no for
mal charges. Not yet. Merrin considered me permissible to be at large, which meant I was free to go. I wasn’t considered a flight risk.

  We’ll be keeping an eye on you, Merrin said. Don’t go too far, okay?

  Where would I even go? Where could I run to now? They had already found me.

  The Others.

  I haven’t slept for days. I’m losing track of time. I can’t think straight. There’s a persistent buzz in my head that only I can hear, like a paper wasp’s nest, like Dunstan’s humming, throwing me off balance. I can’t keep my equilibrium. Everything feels fuzzy around the edges. The sharp corners of the building look like carpet fibers to me. As soon as I stepped out of the station, the sunlight jabbed their beams directly into my eyes, fueling a slow-mounting migraine that’s only grown worse in the Jeep. The cars, all the surrounding people, everything around me is out of focus. I can’t see people’s faces. Their features look gauzy. I can’t help but think they’re all staring. Smiling at me.

  “I just want to go home,” I say—I think I say—out loud. Tamara doesn’t respond. I don’t know if I said it loud enough. But I need to go home. Crawl into bed. Sleep. Never wake up.

  Tamara hasn’t said a word since she arrived at the station. Her eyes remain on the road, never meeting mine. I’ve tried talking to her, thanking her for—

  Rescuing me.

  —picking me up but she doesn’t answer. I wonder if she heard me, if I’m even talking. I keep quiet, keep to myself, my focus drifting out the window to all the people on the street.

  Others.

  Turning their heads.

  Others.

  Staring back.

  Others.

  Smiling.

  “Is it true?” Tamara asks the windshield.

  I turn to her, grateful to hear her voice. I wish she would look at me. Please, just look at me. See me. But she won’t make eye contact. Won’t acknowledge that I’m right next to her.

  “It’s not what you think it is…” My voice is hoarse, my throat feels like sandpaper.

  “Just tell me it isn’t true. What they’re saying.”

  “Tamara, please—let me explain.” I realize how hollow it sounds. There are so many things that aren’t true, it’s impossible to list them all. Even I can’t make the words sound right. Not when I’m this exhausted. This empty.

  “I can’t let you back into our house—anywhere near Elijah.”