Bumstead's Well

by R E Swirsky

  He grabbed the old, ratted bear, which had the one ear holding on by threads, and hugged him tightly. He turned onto his side, pulled his knees up to his chest, and yanked his blankets high over his head as he coddled his bear and sobbed.

  "It's always been just you and me, Bee," he said. “Always just you and me.”

  CHAPTER 49 Day Seven - Thursday 8:25 AM

  "Why did you have to get me up so early? I'm still tired," Vincent whined.

  "The sun's been up for two hours."

  "It's summer vacation, Gramps. I should be able to sleep in."

  "You can sleep in on the weekends. Today's Thursday. You'd normally be up and at work already if not for that stunt down the well."

  "I already told you I'm done working for the summer." He lifted his bandaged hands into the air. "By the time I get these off it'll be time to go back to school. My flight is already booked."

  Chris turned the vehicle onto the dirt road that led into the trees on the Bumstead property. "Is this the road you boys took?"

  "Uh huh."

  The gravel road ran deep through the trees and out into an open area where the many buildings of the Bumstead farm and lumber mill once stood. Chris hadn’t driven up this road in decades, and the terrible images of the three people who were brutally sacrificed up here returned as if it occurred only yesterday.

  "Up over there," Vincent said and pointed. "Across that field towards those leafy trees."

  The horror Vincent may have uprooted worried Chris greatly. It was the only reason he roused Vincent and hustled him out the door before any of the others were awake.

  Chris stopped the vehicle and stepped out onto the property. He motioned for Vincent to lead the way, and soon both Chris and Vincent hovered at the edge of the well.

  Chris leaned in and looked down inside the well while Vincent remained captivated by the stains along the surface of the capstones. "I didn’t even realize I was bleeding that much."

  Chris ignored Vincent and shone his light deep down inside. Even with fresh batteries and a strong beam, the light dispersed rapidly and left the contents at the bottom in a hazy dimness. He focused the beam along the wall inside about twelve feet down.

  Vincent leaned over the opening next to his grandfather. "Wow!" He laughed nervously. He grabbed onto the hemp rope that still dangled deep into the well with one bandaged hand and leaned further over the opening. "I really climbed up all that way out of there?"

  Chris nodded. "That you did, my boy," he said, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He held the beam steady on the wall where the collapse occurred, and he tucked the images he collected away inside his brain. The collapse was exactly where he suspected it would be. This was definitely a problem. He redirected the flashlight beam down to the bottom, and the brightness of the round stone stuck out against the grey dullness of the others.

  Vincent stopped laughing suddenly as the bottom of the well became visible under the light. He snapped his head away from the opening and stepped back from the well. "I don't want to be here today. I want to go now, Gramps."

  "What? We just got here,” he said. He glanced at Vincent with curiosity and returned his gaze back down to the bottom of the well.

  Vincent crossed his arms and turned his back to his Gramps and the well.

  “Look, Vincent. I brought you out here so you could to tell me what happened to you out here. You can begin with how exactly you three ended up at this place."

  Vincent said nothing and kept his back to his Gramps. He was clearly unsettled about something.

  "Vincent. I'm not angry. I just want to talk about what happened." He touched Vincent on the shoulder.

  Vincent pulled away. "Can't we just go already? I don't want to remember anything about being down there. Please, Gramps. I really don't want to be here."

  "Is it because of your friends? I know it hurts..."

  "It's not about them!" he shouted. "Let's just go already! I just don't want to be out here anymore!"

  Chris shone the flashlight back down inside the well one more time. The single, white stone stole all of the light that reached down to the bottom and left all of the other stones awash in a cold dull, grey colour that left him unsettled. It was almost as if it was alive and thirsting for the sun it had not seen for a very long time. He stared at the white stone and grimaced as he suddenly knew that it wasn't really a stone at all. Is that what bothered Vincent?

  "Yeah. I think maybe you're right," he said.

  He continued to stare down. For a second, he thought it moved. It couldn't move. Could it?

  "Vincent," he said calmly. He also wanted to leave. "We can leave if you really want to. I shouldn't have made you come out here so soon. We can come back another time."

  Chris tucked the flashlight in his back pocket and ushered Vincent down across the grassy field to his parked car. He hated what he saw down the well, but it was what he had come for and expected to see all along.

  The unexpected but distinctive sound of wheels crushing gravel came from the trees across the field in the distance as they were about to climb back into the vehicle. A patrol car emerged and headed directly towards them.

  "Aw, Jesus," Chris whispered.

  "What, Gramps?"

  "Never mind."

  The patrol car slowed and stopped only feet away from the front of Chris's car, blocking him deliberately.

  "Just let me do the talking, you hear me?"

  "Uh huh."

  The door opened and Officer Jet Wu emerged. He positioned his hat onto his head, tipped it a few degrees to one side, and glanced once around the overgrown property before focusing his full attention towards Chris.

  "Mr. Pattison." He smiled. "What a surprise it is to find you out here so early this morning. The sun’s barely up."

  "Officer," Chris said simply. He reached out his hand and forced a smile back.

  Jet gave it a quick shake. He looked down at Vincent's bandaged hands. "How are the hands holding out?"

  "Okay, I guess."

  "Good to hear. Good to hear. So tell me guys, what's up?

  "I brought Vincent out here to show me where he was those four days."

  Jet placed his hands on his hips and studied the trees up on the rise behind Chris and Vincent. Chris guessed he was searching for the well.

  Jet motioned up towards the trees where the grass was trampled. "How about you two take me up?" he asked.

  The three walked one by one across the grassy field towards the well. Officer Wu took up the rear.

  "What brings you all of the way out to this place?" Chris asked. He glanced back at Jet.

  Jet's white teeth shone brightly as he broke into a full smile. "Dean took pictures of the well yesterday, and he asked me to load them onto his computer. I accidentally messed up all his pictures."

  Chris frowned. He didn't like the idea of pictures being taken of the inside of the well now that he saw what was down there.

  "Messed up?" Vincent asked puzzled.

  "They were on his phone." He pulled out Dean's phone from his pocket, lifted it into the air, and waved it around. "I accidentally deleted them."

  "Oh," Vincent replied and smirked. He was trying not to giggle.

  "You think this is funny?" Jet asked.

  Vincent shook his head. "No, Sir."

  "Good. This is official police business, and those photos are evidence. Do you know what evidence is?"

  "Of course I do," Vincent mumbled. He was annoyed at the demeaning question. "But what do you need pictures of the well for?"

  "It's just part of the paperwork process."

  "Uh huh," Vincent replied as if he understood the simplicity of Jet’s statement, but Chris could sense the wheels turning wildly in Vincent's head.

  "Am I in trouble?" Vincent asked.

  Chris didn't like where the conversation was going and answered Vincent immediately. "Of course you're not in any trouble. What you three did was stupid and foolish. Nothing you did out here hurt anyone or ha
s anything to do with the accident."

  "Technically, that's not true," Jet replied as they continued up the small incline. "This is private property." He stared up at Vincent. "I also understand you three had a fire out here. It's the middle of August, and there's a fire ban in the valley. On top of that, you were all drinking ,and you left your beer cans everywhere. Just look at that mess up there." He pointed to the ground ahead where multiple beer cans were scattered about. They were approaching the well. "Are you going to tell me those aren't your beer cans?"

  Chris was suddenly annoyed. He feigned a chuckle. "You're not thinking about actually charging Vincent with these silly, minor violations, are you?"

  Jet stopped, looked sternly at Chris, and pointed down at the beer cans. "You think it's okay for him to misbehave and litter someone else's property like this? I could charge him with all that and much more."

  "Pfff," Chris puffed in disgust. "You won't though." Chris knew he shouldn't have said it, but he didn't like what Jet was suggesting.

  Jet turned towards Vincent. "Do you think I should charge you, take you down to the station for some detailed questioning about what you three were up to out here?"

  Vincent's eyes suddenly swelled in size. "No. We didn't mean any harm. Really, we didn't. It was just a bit of fun."

  "A bit of fun? Maybe you should come back and clean up this place. What do you think? Would that be fun?"

  Vincent looked down at the multiple beer cans that were scattered in the grass. "Not really, but..." He bent down and picked up one of the cans.

  Jet raised an eyebrow at Chris and moved toward the well. Chris understood immediately that Jet was not going to treat anything lightly today. He didn’t like this rookie officer at all.

  "Let's see what we got here," Jet said as he leaned in and peered down the well. He flashed off a few photos without paying too much attention to the task. "Not a fun place to be stuck, is it?" he said to Vincent.

  Vincent shook his head. "No, sir."

  Jet snapped off more photos and sat down on the edge of the well. "Did you learn anything from this?"

  "Excuse me?" Vincent replied.

  "Did you learn anything?" He turned so he could face Vincent and motioned at him to come forward. He pointed down the well. "Come here boy. Take a look."

  Chris stood away from the well.

  Vincent stepped up to the well, leaned in, and stared down to the bottom. He could see nothing but the stone walls that disappeared into blackness.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You can't see anything down there," Jet said apologizing sarcastically. He pulled his flashlight from his belt, reached out behind him, and shone it down to the bottom.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Chris called out at Jet in attempt to keep him from staring down the well any longer than necessary.

  Jet remained seated at the edge. He grinned at Chris.

  With a fully charged set of batteries, the police issue Maglite carried a powerful narrow beam that lit the well all the way to the bottom. "Tell me what you see," Jet commanded.

  The delight with which Jet was exercising his authority over Vincent was very clear as he kept his eyes focused upon Chris. It made Chris furious.

  "I really don't want to..." Vincent replied.

  "C'mon, boy. Tell me what you see. I want to hear what you've learned from all of this."

  Chris couldn't hold back any longer. "Leave him be!" he shouted.

  Officer Jet shook his head. "We're not done here quite yet, Mr. Pattison." He pulled the flashlight back and turned towards Vincent. "Do you want me to hook you to that rope and lower you back down to the bottom? There's a bag and stool that need to be lifted out of there."

  "You won't do any such thing!" Chris shouted and stepped forward.

  "Just tell me what you see when you look down there." He reached out and shone the light to the bottom again. "C'mon boy. Do you see the bag?"

  Vincent drop the beer can, grabbed hold of the rope, and stared down. Chris could see the horror and panic set upon his grandson's face. He quickly stepped past Jet and pulled Vincent away from the well.

  "You have no business treating Vincent like this. He's done nothing wrong." Chris moved over to the pole and began untying the rope from the pole where Aaron secured it only six days ago.

  Jet stood up and tucked his flashlight away. "I just want this boy to learn something from this."

  Chris scowled. "This boy has a name, Officer Wu. I would very much like it if you would call him by his name." He continued to pull the bloody rope up from the bottom and coiling it.

  "And I'll take that rope when you're done," Jet added.

  "Like hell you will," Chris replied. "Vincent, where did you find this rope?"

  Vincent cowered beside Chris. "From the shed," he replied meekly. "In our back yard."

  Chris glared at Jet and continued coiling the rope.

  "It's evidence," Jet said.

  "There's no crime here." Chris raised his voice. "It's my Goddamned rope, and I'm taking it home!"

  Vincent shuddered under Chris' outburst and shuffled a few steps further behind his grandfather.

  Jet stepped away from the well, removed his hat, and ran one hand through his hair before replacing it. He planted his feet firmly and pointed towards Chris. "I don't think you understand what's going on here. You keep on pushing me, Mr. Pattison, and I will charge you with obstruction. I don't think either of us really wants that. Dean said you were a good man, but I'm just not seeing that here today. You can take that rope with you, but you make damn sure that rope doesn't go anywhere."

  Chris lifted the fully coiled rope into the air beside him. "It's just a rope."

  Jet slipped the phone back into his hand. "There are photos here that Dean wants to see. I honestly don't think there's anything out here even worth investigating. That's another story where Dean's concerned. I don’t know why he wants these photos, but he does. You just keep that boy of yours on a tight rope of his own."

  "His name is Vincent."

  Jet nodded. "Ok. You keep Vincent on a tight rope and we'll all get along just fine."

  "I'm leaving town next week," Vincent added softly. "For University. UBC."

  Jet nodded again. “Well, good for you, Vincent. I just moved out here from Vancouver myself only a few months ago. You’ll like it out there.”

  “I do like it out there. I’ve already spent two years out there.”

  Jet smiled at him. "You just keep your head out of trouble. You hear me? No more stupid stunts like this."

  Vincent nodded. “No, sir."

  Jet took a few more photos of the outside of the well and then followed Chris and Vincent back to the vehicles.

  CHAPTER 50 Day Seven - Thursday 11:10 AM

  "Where are you?" Dean questioned. The radio was crackling a lot this morning, and he had trouble hearing.

  "I just left the Bumstead place," Jet replied. "And you'll never guess who I ran into out here."

  "Tell me. I'm all ears."

  "That kid, Vincent and his grandfather."

  "Really," Dean replied. It roused his curiosity. "What were they doing out there?"

  "The old man just said he wanted the boy to show him where he was trapped. I thought it strange to find them out there so early."

  "You think they were up to something?"

  "I can't say for sure. But that old man has a very bad attitude."

  "Chris? I've known Chris for years. He's gentle as a lamb." He had witnessed Chris break out of his normal politeness on occasion. He could be harsh and abrupt, but his outbursts always seemed justified under the circumstances. "What did he do?"

  "Just attitude. He mocked me and told me to lay off the kid."

  "Ayuh," Dean replied. Chris was always defensive of his grandson. Jet must have pushed him.

  "So you were laying into the kid?"

  "Depends on what you mean by laying into."

  Dean sat quietly on Jet's words.

  "Okay," Jet offered after
a few seconds. "Maybe I leaned on him a little strong."

  He knew it. It was a side of Jet he heard about from his former precinct but had never witnessed himself in the three months since Jet arrived in town. He heard rumours of Jet's aggressiveness with suspected Jon's and street girls down on the East side of Vancouver where he worked before transferring out to Bluffington, and he suspected that this may have been the reason they transferred him. The rumours were unsubstantiated, but they circled around coercing payoffs from Jon's and aggressively abusing some of the street girls for favours. Dean patrolled the very same streets on Vancouver’s East side himself for many years before coming to Bluffington and knew very well of how the line of acceptable conduct was often straddled.

  "I've known Chris and his grandson for a long time. These are good people, and I have come to think of Chris as a friend. That boy of his just went through hell down in that well, and both Chris and his wife thought they lost him in that horrible crash. The last thing I want is Chris and Anita thinking we're a bunch of bad asses coming down on them for no good reason after what they just went through."

  "They were both giving me attitude."

  "Vincent? Giving attitude? Now come on. That I don't believe for a second."

  "You calling me a liar, Dean?"

  "I'm saying I don't want a misunderstanding. That's all."

  The radio crackled loudly. Dean thought he lost the connection.

  "I think they understood me clearly," Jet said finally.

  "Uh huh. And I'd like to make sure of that."

  The radio crackled again.

  "What are you suggesting?"

  "How about you drive over to see Chris and apologize for leaning on his grandson a little strong? Leaning on strong were your words, not mine."

  The radio crackled some more.

  "Jet?"

  No answer.

  "Jet, are you there?"