Camp McClane

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Camp McClane Page 12

by Grant Fieldgrove


  James put his hands up to diffuse the potential situation, as he had seen this happen before and the outcome was never good. Religion always seemed to bring out the worst in people and he discovered it was best to just avoid it at all cost. “I didn't mean to start an argument, ladies. Geez. Just passing along an old legend. There hasn't been a murder here in over two decades but...people have gone missing. Several of them. They come into the woods to do a little hiking or whatever, and they're never seen again. But, ya know, the whole thing is just silly.”

  Stuart laughed. “Totally silly. You're all safe. Just figured everyone loves a good ghost story.”

  “Well,” Sarah said, “when you hear a good one, please feel free to share it. I feel the need...”

  Jacquelynn asked, “The need?”

  “The need for weed. Adios.”

  And with that, Sarah was gone, joining the living room gang.

  James checked the time on his ridiculously overly-complicated watch, and said, “Well, I think it's about time Stuart and I hit the road. We never intended to stay this long. We were just passing through.”

  Andie looked shocked. “Well, you can't leave now. Are you kidding me? After that story?”

  James laughed, flattered a little. “That’s all it was. A story. We've got to keep moving.”

  “Aw come on,” Jessica said with a pouty lip that had gotten her many expensive things from her daddy. “Even if you don't believe the story, it's pouring rain out there.”

  Stuart picked up his backpack and slipped it over his shoulders. “We really can't impose. We don't want to put anyone out or cause a bed shortage.”

  Jessica’s mouth curled up at the ends like the Grinch. “I can think of someplace you can sleep.”

  Stuart’s face went red. “Really, we appreciate everything you've done, but we really need to get going.”

  From the living room, Jimmy yelled, “THEY SAID THEY HAD TO GO!”

  Jessica yelled back, “Shut up, Mac ‘n Cheese!”

  “Hey,” Andie said excitedly. “I have an idea. How about the regular cabins. They might be a little dusty but I'm pretty sure they have beds. Please. Come on. You guys can't leave in this rain.”

  Stuart and James exchanged looks, then shrugged. Oh what the hell.

  “Okay.” James said, setting his pack back down.

  “But just for tonight.”

  Jessica clapped and said, “Oh goody! Grab your things boys, I'll show you the way.”

  Stuart, still with his pack on, said, “I'm pretty sure we can-”

  “I said...” Jessica said, cutting Stuart off, “I will show you the way.”

  James laughed and picked up his bag. “Okey dokey, then.”

  Jessica looked around frantically. “Where are the keys, And?”

  Andie looked around the kitchen table for a moment, lifting a few empty bags and various food items before locating them. She tossed the keys to Jessica who completely missed them causing them to clank to the linoleum floor and slide. A perfect opportunity to create some buzz. She made a show of bending over in front of Stuart and James to pick them up, giving an extra little wiggle as she popped back up and jingled the keys around her index finger as she smiled.

  “I'll be back, guys.” Then, softly, to Andie, “Don't wait up.”

  “Be careful out there,” Mort said. “The mosquitos are so big that they could stand flatfooted and fuck a turkey.”

  Crickets.

  Jessica clicked her heels together, grabbed an umbrella from the pile of luggage, winked to her friends, and then headed out the door. She opened the umbrella and stood underneath its covering as the rain banged down around her.

  “Huddle close boys. I'm not ready to be wet just yet.”

  Jimmy finished rolling a joint and presented it to Savannah, Breanna, Mort and Dave like Rafiki presenting baby Simba.

  He doesn’t know what the hell they say at the beginning of that stupid-ass Lion King song, but he gave a try anyway. Unfortunately, it came out more like Naw, shewangs now than the actual lyrics of…whatever the fuck they say. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the Jimmy Joint, stuffed to the brim with the highest quality medicinal marijuana my grandma's medicine cabinet has to offer.”

  Savannah and Breanna clapped like children at a magic show. Mort gave their stupidity a look of disgust which went unnoticed.

  Jimmy made a show of lighting the rolled joint then taking a drag. “Namesake gets the first hit.”

  “Isn’t that stuff for your grandma’s, ya know, pain?” Mort said.

  Jimmy shrugged. “I’unno.”

  Jimmy took another deep inhale of the joint and held the smoke in his lungs for a few moments before exhaling. He passed it to Savannah. “Ladies first.”

  Mort, to no one, mumbled, “Pretty sure you were first.”

  Savannah took a drag and coughed like an AIDS patient. She passed it to Breanna who took a drag and did not cough. She realized her mistake and quickly faked a cough. Mort rolled his eyes. There seemed to be an awful lot of eye-rollin’ goin’ on during this trip.

  Dave was reaching both hands out like a baby begging for a bottle. “Gimme gimme!”

  Carl was organizing his weapons, laying them out in rows on the floor, when he heard a woman's laughter. He quickly extinguished the lamp and slightly panicked. He was not ready! “Stupid Satan!” he mumbled.

  Jessica, James and Stuart stood outside the cabin door; Stuart held the umbrella and Jessica fumbled with the key in the knob. The key fit but would not turn. Of course. She cussed under her breath as she fumbled for the correct one. She pretended she was in total control.

  Carl bent down and picked up a wooden mallet and walked slowly to the door as the knob continued to jiggle. “Shoot shoot shoot.” He pressed his back to the wall and raised the weapon, ready to strike, his heart thumping. “Don’t screw this up, don’t screw this up.”

  “One of these goddamn keys has to fit one of these fucking cabins, for shit sake! PLEASE!” Jessica had given up pretending to be in control.

  “We can try one more.” Stuart said, before suggesting: “If not, we can just break the door down.”

  This grabbed Jessica's attention and she lost focus on the door and began rubbing Stuart's biceps. “Ohhhh. I almost hope the key doesn't work then.” There was nothing sexier to her than big biceps. If you were a dude with big biceps and Jessica rubbed ‘em, you’ gettin’ laid that night!

  Carl waited just inside the door; his breathing was still heavy, though he was actively trying to slow it down. The doorknob stopped jiggling and he heard his unexpected guests leave, having decided to try the next cabin.

  Carl took a deep breath and knelt down to speak to his cat. “I guess that means it's time. You ready to go to work?”

  The cat meowed then silently farted.

  Carl loved this cat. He remembered the day he brought her home. He was on another pointless checkin with Satan when the cat suddenly appeared at his feet. Startled at first, and slightly confused, Carl asked what the hell a cat was doing in Hell.

  Satan had told him most cats go to Hell because they’re selfish assholes, they even have their own special room to piss and shit all over the belongings of people who caused traffic accidents by texting or drinking while driving.

  Carl didn’t ask any more questions, he simply bent down and picked the feline up.

  “You know who that cat is?” Satan had asked.

  Carl shook his head no.

  “She belonged to Frances Bavier.”

  Carl had no idea what the hell this old, red bastard was talking about, so he just stood there, stone-faced and annoyed.

  “Frances Bavier! Aunt Bee! Didn’t you ever watch the Andy Griffith Show? Sheesh!”

  Carl nodded, but not a full nod, one of those upward half nods you give to people you sort of know when you don’t want to actually say hi. Yes, he did in fact know who Aunt Bee was and yes, he did use to watch reruns of the Andy Griffith Show. He had no idea wh
y her cat would be allowed to hang out in Satan’s office, though.

  Turned out, he didn’t have to wonder long. Old Satan Chatterbox would tell him.

  “Old Aunt Bee was a real bitty in person. She’s down here, ya know, if you want to meet her.” Carl remained silent, so Satan continued on with his pointless story. “She was a nasty old hag that didn’t like anyone on the show and then went into seclusion afterwards and died alone with a house full of cats. Well, after a while, the cats got hungry and started eating away at ol’ Aunt Bee. This little lady in your arms right now was the one who took the first bite.”

  Carl took a deep breath and checked his non-existent watch, hoping Satan would take the hint. He didn’t and kept on talking for another hour and a half. By the time he was finished, he had forgotten all about the cat, and Carl was zapped back to Earth still holding her.

  Totally worth it.

  “Aw fooey,” Jessica said with a pouty lip after fitting the correct key into the correct lock. “I was hoping to see the gun show.” She opened the door and took a step inside, looking for a light switch. There was none, at least that she could find, which was a pity because, well, she would like to have seen these two hunks tear her apart.

  But oh well, beggers can’t be choosers.

  Jessica reached out, grabbed Stuart and James by their belts and pulled them inside.

  “Oh well,” she said, with her bottom lip still flipped out. “I guess I'll settle for a different kind of entertainment.”

  She pulled them in through the doorway then kicked the rickety door shut with a slam that rocked the whole cabin.

  Carl opened the door to his cabin slowly and peeked his head out. When he saw the coast was clear, he began setting his arsenal outside on the concrete slab where a mat would be placed once camp officially opened.

  When everything was laid out, he covered it with a large brown blanket, making it all but invisible in the darkness, then walked towards the main cabin, his cat following along at his feet.

  He arrived at a main window into the cabin and peeked in, using his hands as binoculars against the glass. He saw Jacquelynn, Sarah, Andie, Dave, Jimmy, Savannah, Breanna and Mort sitting around a glass table all playing a game of cards. Of course, he didn’t know their names or who they were, all he saw were a bunch of high school assholes that treated him like shit and made his life a living hell. Carl's hands clenched into fists, closing the lenses on his pretend viewfinder, as laughter erupted from inside. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled downward into a pissed-off frown. He pounded the palm of his left hand with his fist, then turned to make his way towards the front of the cabin, nearly running into Jessica who was walking back, soaking wet, and scaring the bejesus out of him. Carl quickly jumped into nearby bushes, as clumsily and animated as a Looney Tunes cartoon, out of sight, landing in mud and pokey sticks.

  Talk about almost having a heart attack! Carl was not anywhere near ready to strike yet. Luckily, Jessica walked by him without noticing a single thing, not even the cat she practically stepped on. Her wet blonde hair was hanging in thick chunks over her face and eyes, her face in a contortion of anger. She reached the main cabin door, thrusted it open with the vengeance of an old-west cowboy lookin’ for the man that shot his pa, and stomped in, drawing the attention of everyone.

  “Woah,” Jimmy said, laughing, “that was fast.”

  Dave, joining in the laughter, said, “Couple of Two Pump Chumps?”

  “Quick Draw McGraws!”

  Mort figured he might as well get in on this. “Couple of Rozzy Hobos?”

  Jessica stormed through the kitchen, her muddy feet leaving a trail across the linoleum “I don't want to hear it. Girl meeting. Stat!” She stomped into the closest downstairs bedroom and slammed the door.

  Sarah, Andie and Jacquelynn stood to join their friend, because one thing they all knew, when a girl calls a girl’s meeting, you drop what you’re doing at go.

  Savannah looked to her sister, then at the rest of the girls. “Should we go?”

  Jacquelynn, bringing up the rear of the conga line to the bedroom, shrugged. “Couldn't hurt. You are girls, right?”

  “My tampons say yes.”

  Mort and Jimmy cringed. Dave was paying no attention; he was too busy peeking at everyone else’s cards.

  “Yeah,” Breanna muttered, “I mean, Yes.”

  Jessica opened the bedroom door violently to make sure everyone was coming. “I said stat!”

  The girls picked up the pace and filed into the bedroom, taking seats at various locations. Jimmy, not one to pass up some good old fashion stalking, got up and followed, pressing his ear to the door. He heard Andie ask what happened.

  Jessica, seated on the bed, grabbed a pillow and held it tightly to her wet body. “You will not fucking believe it. So I grab those two…those two…men… by the belts and pull them inside and onto one of the beds. It's pretty dark in there but all I know is one minute I've got two massive dongs in my hands and the next minute I am being pushed to the disgusting, cold-ass floor and I hear grunting and slapping!”

  Everyone laughed, including Jimmy, before quickly remembering to stifle it, unless he wanted to be caught.

  “Fuck off!” Jessica yelled at the girls. “Not funny at all!”

  “Wow,” Sarah said, displaying the most emotion anyone in the room had seen from her in months. “So totally gay, huh?”

  “Totally! So I stand up, right, and man I am pissed, but I think, hey, maybe it was just an accident. It's pretty dark, right?

  Sympathetically and with a nod, Jacquelynn said, “Right.”

  “Nope! Straight up the butt!”

  Andie, unsure if she should laugh before eventually deciding against it, for now at least, said, “Did you at least watch?”

  “Well yeah,” Jessica said quietly, “of course, but let me tell ya, not as erotic as I had pictured it. I don't care how good the guy looks; there is nothing sexy about a hairy butthole and those little turkeyneck love spuds hanging down between ‘em. It looked like a flesh-colored wizard's hat or some sort of fucked up Muppet. Gonzo gone so horribly wrong.”

  At this, everyone decided it was finally acceptable to laugh. No one referred to a ballsack as turkeynecks and didn’t expect a cheap laugh. Jessica, trying to remain pissed off, eventually gave in and joined the laughter.

  Outside the door, it was taking Jimmy everything he had in him to not jump up and down with excitement.

  From the living room, Mort finally set his cards down and stood up. “Well, this is going to take forever. I've gotta poop.”

  “Hope everything comes out okay! Give 'em hell in there, soldier!” Dave said, saluting.

  After trying unsuccessfully to wipe the mud from his outfit, and even more unsuccessfully to remove all the prickers from the bush he took a nosedive into, Carl uncovered his arsenal and picked up the large bear trap. He carried it by the chain in one hand and his mallet in the other, walked to cabin number 3 and peeked inside through the fogged up window. He was fully in Christopher Lloyd-method-acting mode now and refused to talk to himself, instead he simply thought, It’s time to rock ‘n roll!

  Even that sounded dumb to him though. Sigh, he just wasn’t that witty.

  He placed the bear trap just outside the door, carefully opening and locking it. Taking one-step back, he made sure the trap was in the correct position. Looked good.

  Carl reached his muddy hand out and rapped on the door loudly, before quickly hopping back into the darkness. Stuart, withdrawing his wang from the hairy black hole it was resting in and tucking it into the pair of jeans crumpled at his feet, cursed quietly then walked to the door.

  Annoyed and frustrated, a facedown James said, “Tell her to go away!”

  “Let’s see if she can take a hint.” Stuart opened the door and saw, well, nothing. “Jessica?” Curiously, he took a step to see if anyone was there. If it were Jessica, he would simply tell her they were not interested in her. I mean, for crying out loud, th
ey pushed her naked body to the ground, take the hint, girlfriend.

  Snap!

  Unable to see anything except the rain falling directly in front of his face, he took a step out to have a looksee, his foot landing right in the bull’s-eye. The trap snapped shut on his leg with a loud enough clank to be heard over the storm, splintering his shinbone like a tree struck by lightening. He screamed but the air quickly left his lungs rendering him silent. Carl, in full no-more-fuckin’-around mode, ran out of the darkness towards his injured prey and brought the mallet down hard atop Stuart’s skull. This hit was so hard it sent Stuart back into the door, knocking it from the frame and severing his foot completely in the trap. Carl slowly followed Stuart’s dead and footless body into the cabin and focused his attention on James who was just jumping from the bed.

  Carl charged him, full force, ignoring his no-running rule and the fact that a rather impressive dick was pointing right at him like an accusing detective, knocking James onto the bed with the ferocity of a drugged-up linebacker. James flew backwards, bouncing off the bed and onto the floor. On his knees, Carl pressed the mallet handle sideways across James’s throat.

  James gasped for a breath that just would not come. Carl tossed the mallet aside and grabbed James by the hair and dragged him back to the bed. He raised the bedframe with one arm and placed the leg onto James’s mouth.

  Carl got to his feet. James, under the bed, screamed, begged for his life the best he could with a full mouth. The metal was cutting his throat, making him gag. Carl raised his left foot and brought it down on the mattress like a sledgehammer. James’s face exploded. The pain came to an end quickly as the metal turned his brain to cheapass microwaved oatmeal. Carl kept stomping, just for fun. Once dead, Carl stood and gave James one whack to the face with the mallet, just in case, because he knows all about that not-quite-dead-yet gimmick, but it was like hitting water. There was nothing left. He did the same for the other fella over in the doorway.

 

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