cold, thin air: Volume 2

by C. K. Walker

  Kyle was right, it wasn’t a long walk – only a half mile down the trail and then another half mile hike on a well tread path up the mountain. It was a steep climb though, and by the time we got to the treehouse, I was winded.

  “What do you think?” Kyle asked excitedly.

  “It’s…” I studied the tree as I caught my breath. “It’s pretty awesome,” I smiled. And it was. They hadn’t lied to me, the treehouse was the biggest one I’d ever seen. It had multiple rooms and there were actual curtains in the windows. A sign above the door said ‘Ambercot Fort’ and a rope ladder hung below the threshold, missing several planks.

  “I’m going up first!” Yelled Parker, but Kimber caught his arm.

  “You have to do the ceremony first or you’ll disappear.” She reminded him.

  “That’d be fine with me,” Kyle grumbled.

  I was eager to get into the fort myself. “Give me the knife.” I held out my hand and Kyle smiled and dug the switchblade out of his pocket.

  “There’s some space in the back to carve your name.”

  I opened up the knife and walked around the tree looking for an empty spot. They were so many names on the trunk that I had to crunch down and look search near the bottom since I couldn’t reach any higher. I spotted both Kyle and Kimber’s carvings on the tree and I found a spot I liked near the latter. I bit my tongue and carved Sam W. into a blank piece of bark underneath someone named Phil S. Parker went next but had so much trouble with the knife that Kyle ended up doing it for him.

  “Alright, let’s go,” I ran over to the rope ladder.

  “Wait!” Kyle yelled. “You have to say the words first.”

  “Oh yeah. What are they?”

  Kimber sang them out. “Underneath the Triple Tree there is a man who waits for me and should I go or should I stay my fate’s the same either way.”

  “That’s…creepy.” I said. “What does it mean?”

  Kimber shrugged. “No one knows anymore, it’s just tradition.”

  “Okay, can you say it one more time, slower?”

  Once Parker and I had managed to recite the poem without forgetting the words we were ready to go. I climbed the rope ladder first and took stock of my new surroundings. The treehouse was more or less empty, just a dirty rug here and there and some trash: old soda cans, beer cans and fast food wrappers.

  I went room to room – four in total – and found nothing of real interest until I entered the last one. An old mattress lay in the corner and piles of musty, ripped clothing scattered the floor.

  “Did a hobo live here?” I asked.

  “Nah, this room has been like this for as long as I can remember.” Kyle said from the doorway behind me.

  “It smells gross.” I said.

  Kimber walked up to the threshold but refused to go any further. “It’s not the smell that freaks me out - it’s that.” She pointed up to the ceiling and I raised my eyes to read what was written there.

  Road to the Gates of Hell

  Mile Marker 1

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It’s just older kids being dicks,” Kyle said. “Come on, I’ll show you the best part of the treehouse.”

  We walked back into the first room and Parker looked up at us and smiled, pointing down to what he’d clumsily carved into the wooden floor.

  “Fart,” Kyle read. “That’s hilarious, Parker.” He rolled his eyes and his little brother smiled proudly.

  Kimber sat down on the floor next to Parker and I sat on his other side. Kyle took the knife from his brother and then walked across the room and wedged the blade between two planks of the wooded wall. He applied a slight pressure and the board gave, opening up a small, secret compartment in the wall. Kyle took something out and pushed the plank back in until it was again flush with the wall.

  “Check it out.” He turned around and proudly held up two cans of Miller Lite beer.

  “Whoa!” I said.

  “Ewww, warm beer? That’s gross. How did you even know it was there?” Kimber asked.

  “Phil Saunders told me.”

  “Are we gonna drink it?” I asked.

  “Hell yeah we’re gonna drink it!”

  Kyle came and sat down in our circle, popped open the first beer and offered it to Kimber. She recoiled as if he was trying to hand her a dirty diaper.

  “Come on, Kimmy.”

  “Don’t call me that!” She yelled at him and then reluctantly took the open beer. She smelled it and made a face, then pinched her nose and took a small swig. Kimber shuddered. “That was even grosser than I imagined.”

  “I don’t want any! I’ll tell mom!” Parker said quickly as the beer passed in front of him.

  “Good, ‘cause you ain’t getting any,” Kyle promised. “And you won’t tell mom shit.”

  I put on my best poker face and took a long, deep swallow of the warm beer before I had the chance to smell it. It was a poor decision and when I wretched, the foul yellow liquid went all over my shirt.

  “Aww man, now I’m gonna smell like beer.”

  We spent the next hour and a half drinking the two cans of Miller Lite and after a while the taste seemed to grow more tolerable. I couldn’t tell if I was becoming a man or actually getting drunk. I hoped it was the former. When the last drop of the last beer was consumed we spent 20 minutes trying to determine if we were drunk. Kyle assured us that he was wasted while Kimber wasn’t sure. I didn’t think I was, but I failed all of our makeshift drunk tests.

  Kimber was in the middle of reciting the alphabet backwards when a loud, metallic grinding suddenly pierced the balmy mountain air like a gunshot. Kimber stopped talking and we spent a few minutes staring at each other, waiting for the noise to end. Parker curled into Kimber and put his hands over his ears. After what seemed like ten whole minutes the sound ended as suddenly as it had begun.

  “What was that?” I asked and Parker mumbled something into Kimber’s t-shirt.

  “Do you guys know?” I tried again.

  Kimber stared at her Keds as she crossed and uncrossed her feet.

  “Well?”

  “It’s nothing,” Kyle answered finally. “We hear it sometimes in town, it’s not a big deal. It’s just louder up here.”

  “But what’s making that sound?”

  “Borrasca.” Kimber whispered without taking her eyes off her Keds.

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “Not who - where.” Kyle answered. “It’s a place.”

  “Another town?”

  “No, just a place in the woods.”

  “Oh.”

  “Bad things happen there,” Kimber said more to herself than anyone else.

  “Like what?”

  “Bad things.” Kimber repeated.

  “Yeah, don’t ever try to find it, dude.” Kyle said behind me. “Or bad things will happen to you, too.”

  “But like, what bad things?” Kyle shrugged and Kimber stood up and walked over to the rope ladder.

  “We’d better go. I have to get home to my mom,” she said.

  We climbed down the ladder one by one and then started the walk back to the trail head in an unfamiliar silence. I was dying of curiosity about Borrasca but couldn’t decide if and what to ask about it.

  “So, who lives there?”

  “Where?” Kyle asked.

  “Borrasca.”

  “The Skinned Men,” Parker answered. “And the Shiny Gentleman.”

  “Pfft,” Kyle laughed. “Only babies believe that.”

  “Like men who are skinned? Like their skin is gone?” I asked excitedly.

  “Yeah, that’s what some kids say. Most of us stop believing in that, though, when we turn double digits.” Kyle said and shot an exasperated look at Parker.

  I looked back at Kimber for confirmation but she was still staring down the trail ignoring us. That seemed to be the end of the conversation and by the time we reached our bikes the awkwardness had abated and we were giggling as we tr
ied to decide if we were too drunk to bike home.

  School started two days later and by that time I’d completely forgotten about Borrasca. When my dad pulled up to the curb to drop me off that morning he locked the doors before I could get out.

  “Not so fast,” he laughed. “As your father I get the privilege of giving you a hug and telling you to have a good first day of school.”

  “But Dad, I gotta go meet Kyle by the flag before first bell!”

  “And you will, but give me a hug first. In a few years you’ll be driving yourself to school, let me be your dad while I still can.”

  “Fine.” I said and leaned over to give my dad a quick hug.

  “Thank you. Now go meet Kyle. Your mom will be waiting here to pick you up at 3:40.”

  “I know, Dad. Why can’t I take the bus like Whitney?”

  “When you’re 13, you can take the bus.” He smiled and unlocked the doors. “Until then, I get to drop you off in the mornings. If you think it’d make you look cooler you can ride in the back seat behind the cage.”

  “Dad…just don’t.” I threw open the door of his cruiser before he could say anything more and slammed the door on his amused laughter.

  Kyle was already waiting for me at the flag pole with Kimber looking around nervously. “Dude, you almost missed the bell!” He yelled when he saw me.

  “I know, sorry.”

  “Whose class are you in?” Kimber asked. She was wearing a red sweater and leggings with frogs on them. Her curly orange hair was brushed into ringlets and her lips were pink and shiny. She’d never looked more feminine and I was surprised to realize I’d never really seen Kimber as a girl.

  “Ah, Mr. Diamond’s.”

  “Me too!” She said cheerfully.

  “Lucky,” Kyle scoffed. “I’m in Mrs. Tverdy’s. Only two 6th grade teachers and I get the crappy one.”

  Kimber grimaced. “Yeah, my mom had her when she was a kid.”

  “What’s wrong with her? What did your mom say?”

  “Just that she’s strict and gives out homework on the weekends.”

  “On the weekends? Fuck!”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Landy?” I immediately recognized the tall man that had suddenly appeared behind the white-faced Kyle.

  “So-Sorry, sir. I meant ‘dang’.”

  Kimber giggled.

  “I’m sure you did.” He nodded.

  “Hi, Sheriff Clery.” Even though I’d only met him a few times I liked my dad’s boss and I think he liked me.

  “Well hello, Sammy, are you excited for your first day?” Sheriff Clery crossed his arms in front of him and widened his stance imposingly, but gave me a wide smile.

  “Yes sir!” I said. And then added lamely, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m giving a presentation to the 3rd and 4th graders about safety when walking to and from school.”

  “Yeah, he gives it every year.” Kyle muttered.

  “Cool,” I smiled.

  Sheriff Clery nodded at me and then turned and walked away. I turned to Kimber to find an empty space that smelled slightly of strawberries. “Where’s Kimber?”

  “She took off. She is annoyingly on time to everything.” And as if to illustrate his point, the bell rang. We both ran up the stairs and inside the doors.

  I walked into class and smiled when I saw that Kimber had saved me a spot next to her at the back. Mr. Diamond, a short, round man of 40 or so nodded at me when I came in.

  “Mr. Walker, I presume?”

  “Um, yeah, that’s me.” I mumbled as I rushed past him to the desk next to Kimber.

  “Welcome to Drisking Elementary. And for the rest of you, welcome back. Go Grizzlies!”

  The class echoed a reluctant and subdued “go grizzlies”.

  Throughout the morning Kimber introduced me to the other kids in our class. Most of them were nice, if sort of underwhelmed by me. They said their hellos and asked where I was from and the conversations usually ended with an unimpressed “okay”.

  A group of girls who sat near the front, snuck looks at us all morning and snickered to themselves. I asked Kimber who they were and she just shrugged. During our second break they managed to accost me at the pencil sharpener.

  “Are you friends with Kimber Destaro?” A tall, dark-haired girl asked me.

  “Yeah,” I answered and looked over at Kimber. She was watching me with worried eyes.

  “Are you related to her?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so because you don’t have orange hair.” I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “You don’t have to be friends with her, you know,” said the second girl with the oddly round face.

  “I wanna be friends with her.”

  A third girl lurking behind the other two snorted. She had pretty auburn hair and a rude, upturned nose.

  “Well, if you do you’re going to be very unpopular here,” the first girl warned. “And once you’re in that group you can’t ever leave it.”

  “Better than the bitch group.” I said. Rude Nose and Round Face gasped but Dark Hair smiled.

  “We’ll see,” she said and the three returned to their corner of the class room and continued whispering to each other. I sat back down next to Kimber and continued what I’d been writing as if nothing had happened.

  “What did they say to you?” Kimber asked nervously.

  “They said you’re too pretty to be near them and that you make them look ugly in comparison. They’d like us to stay away from them.”

  “Liar,” Kimber answered, but I could hear the smile in her voice.

  We met Kyle in the cafeteria at lunch and listened to him artfully complain about his morning. Mrs. Tverdy was ancient and cruel and she’d made every kid in class stand up and say something about themselves even though her room consisted of only 14 kids who’d all known each other since pre-school.

  When the bell rang for recess Kyle and I walked over to throw our lunches away. I threw the tray on top of the can and turned around slamming into some kid I’d never seen before.

  “Oh, sorry,” I mumbled as Kyle laughed at me.

  “Wait, are you Sam Walker?” The kid asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh. Your sister is dating my brother.”

  “Oh man!” Kyle laughed. “Your sister is dating a Whitiger!”

  “Shut up, Kyle.” The kid snapped.

  “She’s gonna be Whitney Whitiger!”

  As funny as it was I couldn’t help but be a little surprised. Not that I’d been paying much attention but I’d only seen Whitney out of her room a couple of times over the entire summer.

  “Um, where did she meet him?” I asked the Whitiger kid.

  “I dunno. Probably at his job.”

  “His job where?”

  “He works at Drisking Water.”

  It didn’t make any sense to me but I shrugged it off. I did remember my mom giving Whitney some menial tasks like getting the car washed and setting up some utilities to get her out of the house. Maybe she met him once and they started dating over text. Teenagers were weird.

  The rest of the school week followed much like the first day. We were well into the first month before I heard someone mention the Skinned Men again. We were out on the playground and Kyle and I were trying to start a fire with two large wood chips. I’d just given myself a splinter when the distant sound of metal grinding on metal flooded onto the playground, silencing every one of us.

  “Borrasca,” I said in awe.

  “Yep,” said Phil Saunders. “The Skinned Men kill again.”

  “Kyle said only little kids believed in Skinned Men.” I threw an accusatory look at Kyle.

  “They do! Phil is just stupid.”

  “Screw you! Why don’t you ask Danielle, she’s seem them.” Phil scanned the playground and then yelled at a blonde girl talking to Rude Nose. “Hey, Danielle, come here!”

  The blonde girl rolled her eyes but came skipping over anyway.
“What do you want? I already told you Kayla doesn’t like you, Phillip.”

  “No, tell them about the Skinned Men.” Phil gestured to the air around us which was filled with the metallic scraping coming down from the mountain.

  “Why don’t you tell them.”

  “Because you saw them and I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t see them, Paige saw them.”

  “Oh.” Phil said and an uncomfortable silence descended.

  “You guys are weird,” Danielle said before flipping her hair in our faces and leaving.

  “Who’s Paige?” I asked when she’d gone.

  “Her sister,” Phil said.

  “Paige disappeared when we were like 5.” Kyle said.

  “After she saw the Skinned Men,” Phil added.

  The sounds from the mountain abruptly ended and the subdued atmosphere of the playground disappeared with it. When the bell rang we lined up with our respective classes. Since Phil was in my class, I made sure I was behind him. The teachers began to count us off.

  “Hey, what else do you know about Borrasca?” I whispered to him.

  “My brother said that’s where people go when they disappear. To Borrasca to meet the Shiny Gentleman.”

  “What happens to them there?”

  “Bad things,” he said, and then shushed me when I asked him what he meant.

  The year dragged on and it wasn’t until Christmas break that I heard the machine at Borrasca again. It was December and there was a thick blanket of snow on the ground which only served to amplify the noise from the mountain. I sat in my room listening to it for a few minutes trying to decide what was happening in the place that bad things happen. I saw my dad’s cruiser pull up out the window and went down stairs to meet him. As I passed my sister’s door I heard her giggling in that annoying, teenage girl way and I cringed. I hoped Kimber never got like that.

  “Hi Dad,” I said to him as he opened the door. My dad stomped the snow off his boots and smiled up at me.

  “Sammy! How many years has it been?” He joked.

  It was true I hadn’t seen much of my dad lately since he was working so much. Doing what, I didn’t know since this was the quietest, lamest town ever. Mom thought the Sheriff was grooming dad for his job since Clery was so old and Dad never really agreed or disagreed with her. He’d only been at the department seven months, after all, and my dad doubted people in the county would vote for him.