Sleep did not touch Kyle’s eyelids easily on that evening. At first he wasn’t quite certain if Ben Murden’s peach grove had spooked him into a mode of insomnia. But after midnight, while tossing beneath his bed covers for nearly two hours, he estimated that the scream he heard earlier was not the true source of his anxiety. Something else—something less concrete but equally valid—had invaded the boy’s consciousness. It was a sound of undefined origin, almost like an incessant hum chiming between his ears. At one point, the pervading noise had become so intolerable that he forced himself to spring out of bed. Even while balanced on his feet and far removed from the stages of sleep, the presence within his head refused to subside.
All of this confusion lasted only a few minutes, but the level of discomfort was severe enough to prevent Kyle from falling asleep for the remainder of the night. By morning, his lack of rest was clearly evident in his sluggish mannerisms. As usual, he entered the kitchen shortly after sunrise, but the house was still quiet. His mother had not joined him for breakfast on this occasion. He guessed that she was too exhausted to improve upon her morning feasts.
During Kyle’s sleeplessness on the previous evening, he overheard another argument between his parents. He didn’t listen closely enough to comprehend the gist of their bickering, but it hurt him to consider the idea that his parents weren’t getting along. On many occasions, he attempted to bury his head in his bed pillow and block out the irate tone of their voices, but it was difficult to ignore their cold stares.
Adding to Kyle’s dismal mood, the day commenced with an assortment of storm clouds hovering over Meadowton’s skyline. By now, the promise of rain was a blessing to most of the residents, but Kyle felt unusually tense during rainstorms. As younger boy, he remembered being frightened by the clang of thunder, but it was not the noise alone that spurred his nervousness. Even the raindrops deflecting off the roof of his home caused him to shudder. The reason for his phobia was never clear to him, but he would have to wait until the storm passed before venturing outside to join his friends.
By the time the thunderstorm subsided, it was nearly noon, which granted Kyle a few extra hours to catch up on some missed sleep. Of course he spent the better portion of the morning convincing his mother that he hadn’t contracted any summer virus, as she called it. She was persistent enough to check his temperature three times before he managed to get out of the house.
Though Kyle guessed that his friends had less adventurous plans in order, he couldn’t resist an urge to at least consider the possibility of speaking to Ben Murden again. In his own mind, there now existed a definitive reason to approach the old man. After reconvening with his friends on Robby’s driveway, it was evident that the events from the previous night loomed large in the boys’ thoughts.
Upon learning about Kyle and Casey’s excursion to the peach grove, Robby had mixed feelings about his absence. Of the three, Casey remained adamantly opposed to the idea of ever returning to that particular section of the woods.
“I don’t know what got into our heads,” Casey complained. He found a seat on a flat rock near the side of the driveway before saying, “We sure didn’t think things through.”
“But you’re positive you didn’t see anything strange?” Robby asked, studying both of his friends’ expressions for a reaction. Kyle revealed no immediate sign of his uncertainty, but Casey saw the frustration blooming in his eyes.
“I think Kyle was looking for more trouble than he had the ability to handle,” Casey added.
“I just thought that we should help,” Kyle piped in. “I know I heard them—I mean, something…”
“Something like what?” Robby interrupted.
“Like a scream—a girl’s scream,” Kyle replied morbidly.
Casey rolled his eyes and huffed, “Here we go again.”
Kyle’s voice became more dominant as he positioned himself next to Robby. “Casey doesn’t have to believe me if he doesn’t want to,” he stated. “But I have a feeling that something terrible happened in that peach grove last night.”
Casey attempted in vain to withhold a chuckle as he nudged Robby on the back of his leg with his foot. Robby considered everything he was thus far told before offering his insight. “If you really heard a scream, Kyle, then why didn’t you call the sheriff?”
“Because he didn’t hear anyone scream,” Casey fumed. “If you stay in the woods at night long enough, you’re bound to start hearing a few noises.”
“Casey’s got a point,” Robby confirmed matter-of-factly. “There’s still a lot of animals in those woods, you know.”
Kyle paced nervously across the lawn and then back onto the driveway before insisting, “This wasn’t the sound of any animal. What I heard was human.”
All three boys paused in their discourse to reconsider their thoughts. Robby suddenly realized that exposing his friend to Ben Murden’s peach grove turned out to be a gross error in judgment on his part.
“If you’re right about this, Kyle, and I’m not saying that you are, then we’ve got to assume that Ben Murden is up to his tricks again.”
“Not necessarily,” Kyle replied. “We don’t know if he has anything to do with what might’ve happened.”
Robby and Casey stared at each other with befuddlement. If a crime of some nature occurred in the vicinity of the peach grove, the only person remotely connected to it was Murden. Robby began to suspect that Kyle’s behavior was becoming obsessive in regard to the old man.
“Look, Kyle,” Robby said, “I think you’re too worried about that old man. It’s like he’s paying you money to lie for him.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Kyle stated.
“No, man,” Casey countered. “Robby’s right. You’ve got to stop trying to protect that man’s reputation. I don’t care if you’ve had a conversation with him or not. People ain’t always what they seem to be.”
Kyle hesitated before presenting his next idea, for he anticipated that his friends would reject it immediately. Before meeting Murden, Kyle never felt obligated to protect anyone, especially a man who seemed so undeserving of such a gesture. On the surface, he discovered that the oldster was every bit as reprehensible as the rumors indicated. But beyond the shallow exterior that so often guises the true measure of a man’s worth, Kyle recognized a vulnerability hibernating within Murden’s soul.
“I don’t know how else I’m going to say this to you guys,” Kyle explained, “but I’m planning on going back to see Ben.”
“Ben?” Robby and Casey chimed with confusion.
“The old man,” Kyle clarified. “I want to talk to him again.”
By now Casey and Robby were dabbing the sweat from their foreheads. The morning’s mugginess only intensified after the rain. Neither boy could comprehend a rational motive as to why their friend had the sudden urge to put his life in jeopardy.
Finally, when no other words seemed to sum up the situation more effectively in Casey’s mind, he blurted out, “Are you completely out of your skull, man?”
“Ben Murden’s the only man alive who knows what’s really happening in that peach grove,” Kyle said. “If I can get back there and talk to him, I might be able to figure out what happened to those kids.”
“We don’t know if anything happened to them or not,” Casey reminded his friend. “I think you’re just looking for an excuse to go back and see that ol’ kook, and that’s just plain crazy.”
“Why is it so crazy?” Kyle asked defensively. “I’m the only one of us three who has ever spoken to the man. What do you guys know about him? Everything that you said is secondhand information.”
“And do you think that by talking to the creep once makes you an expert on deciding what kind of person he is?” Robby questioned.
“No, that’s why I’ve got to go back, Robby. I don’t know what I’m trying to prove, other than the possibility that Ben Murden isn’t to blame for all those missing people. Maybe he’s become a victim and doesn’t know how to make it righ
t with the folks of this town again.”
Obviously the boys reached an impasse on the nature of Murden’s disposition. After only a few moments of debate, it was evident to Robby that Kyle had taken an unusual interest in Murden’s welfare. This by itself was strange, but it seemed particularly odd for Kyle to devote so much energy toward someone he hadn’t even thought to mention two days ago.
“Hey, Kyle,” Robby suggested. “I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but if you think something happened in the woods last night, why not just call the sheriff and let him handle the details?”
“Yeah, man,” Casey admonished, “if Ben Murden is as innocent as you claim he is, then the evidence will show it.”
“Don’t you guys get it yet?” Kyle complained. “No one will believe the old man. The sheriff will go up there looking to blame him for something. Everybody in this town has already convicted him for all the things that have gone wrong in those woods.”
“Why do you want to protect him?” Robby asked assertively, but he already assumed that Kyle didn’t have an adequate explanation for his summer diversion.
Casey had a more practical solution to the problem at hand. “Can’t we all just back to playing baseball?” he said, pounding his fist into his palm as if he was wearing a catcher’s mitt. “I don’t see any harm in that.”
“We will,” Kyle assured both his friends. “By tomorrow I should have a better idea of what’s going on.” Kyle quickly glanced at the sky to make certain that the rain had truly passed. The storm clouds still appeared ominously dark, and it seemed likely that another downpour would occur before the day was done. Even with the threat of rain looming, Kyle decided that he needed to see Murden sooner rather than later.
As Kyle motioned toward his bike, his friends appeared shocked by his hasty decision to leave. After Kyle straddled his bike, Casey glanced at him worriedly and asked, “Where are you going now?”
“The rain isn’t gonna hold off much longer,” Kyle said. “I’d like to get up there and see him before it gets too late.”
“You’re going up there now?” Robby exclaimed. “Didn’t you have enough excitement last night?”
Instead of answering his Robby immediately, Kyle started peddling down the driveway toward the street. Once he reached the road, he called back to his friends, “This is something I have to do, guys. Please don’t tell my mom where I’m going.”
Robby and Casey continued to watch Kyle until he disappeared behind a large hedgerow lining the avenue. Thunder grumbled in the distant sky within seconds after his departure. The pending rain seemed poised to make its return in grand fashion. After a few minutes, when it was certain that Kyle was not playing a joke on his friends, Robby’s mood became increasingly bleak. Even Casey, who didn’t typically involve himself with anything too seriously outside of baseball, acted concerned about Kyle’s impulsive behavior.
“That boy has a nose for trouble, but I sure ain’t following him back into those woods anytime soon,” Casey mentioned.
“He’s getting too close to that old man,” Robby cautioned. “I’ve never seen him act like this before about anything.”
“Well, maybe that old dude put some kind of a hex on him,” Casey joked, but Robby didn’t share his humor.
“I feel like I’m partly responsible for his actions,” Robby admitted. “If he keeps going to Murden’s peach grove, something bad is bound to happen.”
Casey didn’t know quite how to alleviate Robby’s guilt, but he sensed that too much time had already been squandered on this endeavor. By the afternoon, Casey had every intention of returning to Homer Park to pitch a few balls into the backstop.
“We’ve got the whole summer ahead of us,” Casey reminded his friend. “If Kyle wants to waste his vacation by hanging out with an old hermit, then so be it. We’ll have fun without him.”
“I guess you’re right, Casey, but I still think that Kyle needs someone to look out for him.”
Chapter 13
Songs of a Peach Tree Page 13