Admission

by Travis Thrasher

  “Where have you been?” he yelled. “I’ve been trying to find you for the last three hours!”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said, his voice hoarse and weak.

  “Get in the car!”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Where’ve I been? What about—What’s all over your pants and shoes? And what’s with your hands? Have you been digging?”

  Jake climbed into the Jeep. “What happened last night?”

  Alec shook his head and cursed.

  “Is everybody okay?”

  “Everybody’s fine. Where’ve you been?”

  “I woke up in Bruce’s car.”

  “Where is it?”

  “It needs gas.”

  “We gotta clean you up. You look awful.” Alec was speeding down the road, looking ahead. “What do you remember?”

  “Nothing,” Jake said.

  “Nothing as in … ?”

  “Nothing as in nothing. Blackness. Nothing. The last thing I remember is sitting around the fire.”

  Alec swore. “And you say I got a problem.”

  “What happened?”

  “Just chill for now, okay? The guys are waiting for us at the camp.”

  “Who?”

  “Bruce, Shane, and Mike. Shane’s like you—he got plowed last night. Passed out in a field.”

  “Where are Carnie and Franklin?”

  “They left already.”

  They came to a stop sign, and Alec turned right.

  “You know where you’re going?”

  “I got acquainted with these roads this morning.”

  “Alec, just tell me—”

  “Just shut up and relax. Look in that bag in the backseat. I’ve got some clothes. Grab a shirt. And get rid of those jeans.”

  “Where’d this blood come from?”

  “Things went bad,” Alec said. “That’s all I know. For a while, we even thought—we were wondering if you were dead. Look, we gotta meet up with the rest of the guys before anything else happens.”

  “This isn’t a joke, is it?” Jake said, putting on the T-shirt.

  Alec looked at him with wild bloodshot eyes and the gaze of a sniper. “I swear to God this isn’t a joke.”

  “Then how’d this happen?”

  “I don’t know. It was just—it was a long night. It got totally out of hand.”

  “Did anybody get hurt?”

  Alec arrived at a gas station and parked at the side of the small building.

  “You need to get cleaned up, okay? And you need to relax. I’m going to get some gas.”

  Jake wiped his eye with a muddy finger. Everything was intense and extreme and he felt like it wouldn’t turn down, like the volume and the rage in his head would not silence.

  “Tell me one thing,” he said, afraid even to ask but having to.

  “No. I said go clean up.”

  Jake broke down and started to cry. “I’m scared,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Alec said, putting his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Look, man. You’re still half drunk. It’s going to be fine.”

  “No, it’s not. No way it’s ever going to be.”

  Alec looked intense but didn’t appear worried.

  “Jake, come on. Just do what I tell you, and things will be fine.”

  He was going to tell Alec about the knife, but he couldn’t.

  “Does this—does this have anything to do—”

  Alec knew where he was going and nodded. “Don’t say his name. Don’t. Clean up and let’s get out of here.”

  Jake prayed that Brian Erwin was still alive.

  They gassed up Bruce’s car and drove it back to the campground. Jake took Carnie’s .45 and put it in Alec’s bag. Alec didn’t seem surprised.

  Back at the campsite, the three guys were waiting in silence, knowing something was very wrong. Bruce came up to him. “You took off with my car, man. I had no idea where you went.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  “Let’s go!” Alec said. “Jake, come with me. You guys ride with Bruce.”

  In the Jeep, Jake asked why Carnie and Franklin had gone home earlier.

  “They left me to clean up the mess. You know Franklin. He doesn’t want to be around if things get too messy.”

  “How messy are they?”

  Alec looked over at him. “Like I said, just do what I say from here on out.” He grabbed a beer from behind his seat. “Want one?”

  “I’m giving it up,” Jake said.

  His friend only laughed and popped open the can.

  They rode back along the interstate through the Midwestern flatland, the radio blaring to prevent any words spoken between them. Nirvana’s “All Apologies” played.

  The song ended, and the DJ announced that Kurt Cobain, lead singer of Nirvana and the spokesperson of their generation, had been found dead in his Seattle home that morning.

  “I guess this is a good morning to die,” Alec said, almost to himself, gazing ahead at the street and lost in his own world.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  June 2005

  I ENTERED MY MOTEL room and went straight toward the bathroom. The large cup of coffee had worked its way through my system. I came out and headed toward my bed when I got a jolt similar to the one I had given Alyssa.

  “That bed doesn’t look slept in,” a familiar voice said out of nowhere.

  I jerked my head toward the unlit corner of the room where a chair stood, now occupied.

  “Now you might say you made it before going out this morning, but I highly doubt it.”

  My heart was pounding, and I froze, looking at the outline of the figure. I flicked on a light.

  “Long time,” Alec said, a devilish smile on his face.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him, still standing ten feet away from him.

  “The real question is, what are you doing here? I mean, come on. A guy gives you an all-expenses-paid trip down Memory Lane, and you check into this crummy motel? Man, I’d be at the Ritz downtown.”

  “Tell me one thing and one thing only,” I said, trying to be as controlled with my emotions as possible. “Tell me you had nothing to do with Bruce last night.”

  Alec looked the same after eleven years. His hair was cut very short and he looked tanned, his white teeth standing out on a dark complexion. His face looked thinner, healthier than I remembered. But the same smirk and reckless abandon lingered in his dark brown eyes.

  “I could say I didn’t, but would you believe me?” He cursed. “All this time, and you still don’t trust me.”

  “I don’t even know you.”

  Alec’s smile disappeared for a moment, and he looked genuinely hurt. “The answer is no. Of course not. I didn’t have anything to do with Bruce getting shot.”

  “Then why are you here?” I asked him. “And how’d you know he got shot?”

  “Why are you here? That’s the pertinent question.”

  “Looking for your sorry tail.”

  “Didn’t have much luck, did you?”

  “Alec, this is not a joke.”

  Alec nodded. “Bruce, by the way, is doing better.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I just came from the hospital.”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Around. You know, all this nonsense about trying to find me. It really wasn’t that difficult, you know.”

  “Where’s Claire?”

  Alec stood up and laughed. “She’s not around, that’s all I’ve got to say about that.”

  We faced each other for a moment. I felt unsure what he was going to do. A part of me wondered if he was carrying a gun, if I needed to be worried.

  “Look at you, man,” Alec said, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “You look scared. Scared of me.”

  “Should I be?”

  “Man, I’m disappointed in you. Seriously disappointed.”


  “Coming from you, that means absolutely nothing.”

  “Well, at least you’re honest.” Alec crossed the room and opened the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Giving you some space. Don’t worry—I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Uh-uh—no way,” I said, starting to follow him out.

  Alec looked me over. “Take a shower—you look like you need one. I’ll be in my rental car.”

  “What? Just waiting?”

  “I’m the one who found you, Jake. Just—-just stop being all jumpy.” Alec cursed. “Man, I thought you’d be a little more excited to see me.”

  “I just don’t want you to disappear.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  “And why is that?”

  “ ’cause there’s stuff you need to know. It’s time to tell you everything.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  April 1994

  JAKE STILL FELT GUILTY, but he wasn’t sure why.

  It was Tuesday when he drove back to the apartment after going to see his parents for a few days. He told them he needed laundry done and a good home-cooked meal and a quiet place to study, but the truth was that he simply wanted to get away from everything. From the guys, from the school, from the memory of waking up in the back of Bruce’s car covered in blood and carrying a stained knife. As if getting away might cover everything, like burying the knife deep in a hole.

  Ever since arriving at his parents’ late Saturday night, Jake kept wondering if somebody was going to call. If the police were going to pound on the door. If something was going to come out. He still didn’t know what had happened, but he knew it had something to do with Brian. And his imagination had been running rampant.

  Now he would find out the truth. Whatever it was.

  Arriving at his apartment on this rainy morning, Jake just wanted to wake up and find that this all was a bad dream, or a mistake that he would have to get suspended for and then move on.

  What exactly happened?

  That was what bothered him the most. He had ideas—he could conjure up a hundred different scenarios. But none of them were good.

  No one was at the apartment, so Jake grabbed his backpack full of books and headed off to his eleven o’clock class. Franklin and Carnie would be there. He had not seen either since drinking with them at the campfire.

  He got to class and sat next to Carnie.

  “Where’ve you been?” his roommate asked.

  “I went home.”

  “You should tell people.”

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Franklin disappeared too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He took off and nobody’s seen him.”

  “We gotta talk,” Jake said. “Let’s go to Four-leaf Clover tonight.”

  “I’m partied out,” Carnie said.

  “Yeah, me too. Just to go somewhere we can talk.”

  Jake didn’t hear a word the professor said. He doodled in his notebook and thought about the camping trip and looked over at Carnie. His friend’s face said it all. Worry, fear, anger.

  After class, Jake walked with him to his next class. “Carnie, man, tell me what happened.”

  “I know as much as you do.”

  “I’m worried,” Jake said.

  “You need to talk to Alec.”

  “Does this have to do with the—with the practical joke?”

  “Is that what it was?”

  Carnie kept walking, and Jake grabbed his arm. His big friend stopped and looked angry enough to launch a punch at him.

  “I’m going to class.”

  “Carnie, man, I’m afraid. I mean did something happen—do we need to —”

  “Tonight, okay? Not here. Act normal. That’s what Alec said. Got it?”

  “I’m just freaking—I mean, what if —”

  Carnie put up a hand. “It’ll be fine. I’ll see you tonight.”

  The apartment was still empty when Jake returned. He knew Carnie and Kirby were at the college. He wasn’t sure about Bruce.

  He turned on the stereo for background noise and the television to give him something to stare at. But he still felt empty and alone.

  What’d I do?

  The more he replayed events from that day and that night, the more hazy they became. It wasn’t like some memory from childhood, buried beneath two decades of more vivid recollections. This section of tape was just not there. It had never been recorded, had never been edited, was unable to delete.

  He wanted to just get up and go. Climb into his car and drive. But it wouldn’t help anything, and he didn’t know where he would go.

  A phone call got him off the couch.

  “Where’ve you been?” It was Bruce.

  “I went to my parents.’”

  “You had everybody worried.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I just wanted to see if you were back.”

  “Can you make it to Four-leaf Clover tonight? I want all the guys to get together.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. We need to lie low for a while.”

  “Bruce—you gotta tell me what happened out there.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why—why can’t you?”

  “Look, I don’t know anything either. I just—you guys disappeared, and the next day everybody acted funky.”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “I can’t talk about this now. Later. I’ll be there, okay?”

  The silence punished Jake. He felt like the rest of the world was going on as normal outside, and he was bearing the weight of some horrible awful sin.

  I believe Satan has used you in a mighty way. President Bramson’s words were now ridiculing him. He was probably right.

  He’s just waiting to see me get in trouble. Just like Alyssa. And my parents. And everybody else.

  On a night when he’d decided he really wouldn’t drink, Jake had already polished off three beers by the time Alec showed up.

  “Big gang,” Alec said with a smile, looking around at the empty seats.

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Where have you been?”

  “My parents’ house.”

  Alec ordered a beer. “So how you doing? I see you’re off the wagon.” Alec’s fiendish grin looked particularly scary tonight.

  “Alec, I’m dying here.”

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  “What am I supposed to think?”

  “About?”

  Jake pounded the beer on the table and cursed.

  Alec seemed unfazed. “You went camping with the guys,” he said. “You tied one on. And I mean really tied one on. Major bender. Ended up running around in the cornfields at night. Took off in Bruce’s car and spent the night in it. You woke up the next day and you came home. End of story.”

  “What about —”

  “End of story,” Alec repeated.

  Jake finished his beer and ordered another. “It’s really not, is it?”

  “For you, for now, yes, it is.”

  The door to the mostly empty bar opened and Carnie ambled in, smoking a cigarette. His forehead and shoulders were wet. “It’s been raining all day,” he said, taking off his coat. “No pitcher?”

  “You can get one.”

  Carnie obliged and sat down, exhaling. “Where is everybody?”

  “I think we’re it,” Alec said.

  Carnie nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “I’m doing a little one-on-one counseling over here.”

  Jake cursed. “You guys are screwing with my head.”

  “No, you’re screwing with your head. You gotta relax.”

  Jake wanted to grab Alec’s head and shake it, to just force him to tell the truth. But nobody could get the truth out of Alec if he didn’t want to go there.

  “Where’s Franklin?”

  “I haven’t seen him since the trip,” Alec said.

  “Parents’, I think.” C
arnie poured himself a cup of beer.

  “You guys worried?”

  “About what?” Alec asked.

  Jake shook his head and filled a cup with beer. He was actually beginning to feel a little better now that the alcohol was kicking in.

  “You better get the story straight and stick to it,” Alec said.

  As usual, Carnie just sat back and smoked.

  “What if I don’t exactly know what that story is?” Jake asked.

  “I just told you. You went camping. You had a bunch of beers. You woke up the next day and you came home. That’s the story. Any additional information is unnecessary. Even where you woke up. Wandering around in the country. What you were wearing.”

  “And all of you guys?”

  Alec shrugged. “Shane passed out cold. He’s worse than you in terms of memory. We shouldn’t have bought that tequila. José Quervo did a number on us, didn’t he?”

  Carnie didn’t smile.

  The door opened again, and Mike came rushing in. He sat down at the table without taking off his wet coat. “Did you guys hear?”

  “Why don’t you be a little more loud?” Alec said.

  “Sorry. I just—you want to know the buzz?”

  “I can only guess,” Alec replied.

  “What?” Jake said, his stomach suddenly feeling queasy.

  “Brian Erwin. He’s missing.”

  FORTY

  June 2005

  THE BAR AND GRILL was named Tommy’s, and I entered to find Alec in a booth. He’d agreed to meet me here after I showered.

  “I’m still here,” he said, waving up his hands as if I were the police. “What’ll you have?”

  I saw the bottle of beer on the table. “It’s not even noon.”

  “I had to bribe this out of them. Don’t let my efforts go to waste.”

  “I’m not thirsty.”

  “I sure am.”

  I sat in the booth across from him. The bar looked and smelled like a hangover. It was a Friday morning, and the Thursday night crowd must have been obnoxious.

  “Remember Shaughnessy’s?”

  I nodded.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “This is where it used to be.”

  “What? Here?”

  “They tore the building down and put this up. Sorta smells the same, if you ask me.” A grin filled his face.