by Steven Evans
First up were the mindless wanderings of the few people who were slowly strolling the street. At the same time every morning, they just appeared, fully dressed, from out of nowhere. They walked the path on the same side of the road and never veered from it. They knew I was watching, but paid me no mind. A couple of times a day, they would return and walk the same path again, walking the same direction and only nodding at others from a distance. It seemed as if they were either heading to church or going home after church. They were always dressed in their best clothes complete with bonnets and ribbons and carrying little wicker baskets.
I found it strange. They never once entered any of the shops along the path they walked but only kept walking, as if they were cattle being herded into a trailer. Nothing drew their attention from their destination, and they would instantly vanish once they reached the end of the path. Like clockwork, every day at the same time they would come back and replay the events of the previous day. While I found this curious, I had dedicated all my focus and energy into just studying their actions or else these miraculous happenings may’ve proven more than my delicate sensibilities could’ve handled. I knew this, while strange in its own right, wasn’t the ammunition I needed to change any of their minds.
Mr. Allen was the easiest to spy on. He was always talking loudly to himself as he arrived at the drug store, even though he was always alone. I don’t know how his customers could stand his grumpy ass; he treated everyone like they were inferior to him. He didn’t leave the store until late in the day, but I never saw him anywhere else.
Although she wasn’t my favorite person, I only spotted Gertrude when she unlocked the library and when she left. Now, I knew exactly where she’d be once she sat at her desk, but I had really thought I’d see her somewhere other than the library. Like a deep fog, she just appeared in the morning, and when dusk came, she was gone. As soon as she locked the door and reached the bottom step…nothing. She wasn’t there anymore.
Mr. Harte must’ve really loved his furniture, because he was surrounded by it from morning until night. Once in a while, I’d see him on the front porch sweeping the dust into the wind, but he never stepped one foot away from the store. His fat sloppy carcass probably couldn’t handle walking too far anyway, but it was strange that he, or anyone else for that matter, never once strayed from their everyday routines. It was the same, day in and day out.
James was the only piece of the puzzle that didn’t really fit. That boy seemed to have free range. I saw him at every store and shop, running the back roads and alleys, and even talking to everyone he came across. He was the only one who seemed to have this privilege. He was able to do his own thing, unlike the others. He could come and go whenever he wanted, but he never attempted to step across the lines separating town from country, and once night fell, he could only be seen in the shadows of the alleys lurking in the darkness alone. At the same time each night, precisely nine thirty, he would simply evaporate into the shadows, not to be seen until the next morning.
I was confused as to why I never saw the Sheriff anywhere in town. I understood that his position required him to patrol the entire area, but I believed he should’ve at least made an appearance in town. Yet I never saw him at his office, near any buildings, or even on any of the streets.
All of this was extremely weird. I could find no reasonable explanation for it, but it still wasn’t enough to throw in their faces to jar any common sense into their one-track minds. I needed to find James and see if I could get anymore answers from him. If not, all this people-watching would’ve been for nothing.
Finding James was easy. I knew where he’d be, because it was getting close to sundown.
“James, hey wait! James, I need to talk to you.”
“Well, here I am. Talk away.” His childlike charm was shining through as he smiled and walked toward me. “So, what’s up?”
I said, “I gave your explanation of the townspeople some thought and decided I’d do some investigating of my own. I started watching people, you know, their comings and goings every day. You were right. They just do the same things from day to day. There’s no deviation at all. They act like mindless zombies on a never-ending quest for brains.”
He was laughing and gave me a ‘what the hell are you talking about’ look. He stood there watching me, looking confused, and it took a few moments before he spoke again.
“So how can I help you?”
“James, I need answers! Nothing I witnessed was enough to cause any discord at the town meeting. Nothing I saw would be enough to change anyone’s mind about trying to make me leave.”
“So, you’re wanting some blackmail ammunition, are ya?”
“I need something to help my cause!”
His eyes narrowed, and his fist clenched tightly until his knuckles turned white. He was trying to fight back the urge to tell me something, but knew he couldn’t let me keep walking around in the dark.
“Mister, you won’t find what you’re looking for by watching the strange ass people in this town. You’ll just end up more frustrated than you ever were. The only way you’ll get your answers is by confronting them at the town meeting. That’s where their minds are clear and not controlled by Willow. That’s the only time they’ll talk to you, but you may like them better the way they are now.”
“So, you’re saying I should wait for the meeting and then make my stand?”
“I’m saying that that’s the only time they’ll talk to you. I don’t know if you’ll get the answers you want or need, but you’ll definitely get answers.”
I was pacing back and forth on the dirt road, letting what he had said sink in and trying to understand it all. I turned to talk again, but I guess the time had gotten away from me. Apparently, James’ curfew had come and passed, and he was nowhere in sight.
As dejected as I felt by not gaining any creditable and useful information against these backwoods inbred cretins, I also had a newfound energy geared toward turning their little one-sided town meeting into my own version of hell-fire and brimstone. I couldn’t wait until they came calling to drag me away for what they thought would be a tar and feather episode in their circus freak show.
Chapter Ten
Return of the Sheriff
The echoing of someone pounding on the door rudely broke the peaceful silence of my sleep.
“Just a second!” I screamed. “Let me get my clothes on!”
From the raspy sounding snickering outside, I knew it was the Sheriff. Why would he be back?
“Hurry up, City Boy, we need to talk!”
“City boy… What’s this about?” I muttered.
The Sheriff wasted no time pushing through me to get inside. The heavy breathing and sweat rolling down his cheeks was proof enough that he wasn’t on a social visit.
He glared up at me, and said, “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could ya? Had to keep pressing your luck with these people who have no qualms about turning you in! You were warned!”
“Sheriff, what the Hell are you talking about?”
He jumped to his feet, and in an instant, he had me in an arm bar with my face pressed against the wall.
“I told you to leave it be!”
“Sheriff, you’re hurting me. Stop! What has gotten into you?”
“You thought you weren’t noticed the other day, but you were. No one wants you here! I’ve tried to be polite; I’ve tried to appease the elder and to gently persuade you to let things be. But, you’re an outsider, and I should’ve just went with my gut feeling the first time it was brought to my attention. Yet I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. Look where that got me. Look where it got you!”
“You’re not making any sense. Let me go, and we can talk about it.”
Twisting my arm even more, he said, “There’s no time left for talking!”
“Sheriff, at least tell me what I’ve done wrong. I have that right still, don’t I?”
“You know, yes you do! So here it is
in a nutshell. You have always been an outsider here. Me and Adder tried to help you along, but you refused our advice. I tried to ignore your complete disrespect for the people of this town and their beliefs, but I can no longer do that. Did you really think we would let you get away with spying on the good and decent people of this town? Did you really believe your actions wouldn’t have any backlash?”
“So now, you’ve joined the ranks of these other religious fanatics?” I sneered as I gritted my teeth, “Sheriff, I would gladly leave this God forsaken town and forget all you sorry sons-of-bitches, but I’m not really in control of that, am I?”
The Sheriff, loosening his grip, twirled me around and threw me head first onto the couch. Like a tiger, he pounced on me, his knee securely placed on my throat. I could see that he enjoyed doling out punishment, as it was clearly written in the arrogant smile now plastered on his face.
“Boy, none of that matters now! The judgment has been passed down to me, and now you have no defense. Now it’s an ass whoopin’ you have in store, and I do so love my job at this point. You see, I’m an elected official; I have to do what the people demand. Right now, they demand blood--your blood!”
“Sheriff, there has to be another way. You know I haven’t done anything wrong. I’ve done nothing to warrant this type of drastic punishment. I demand a trial! I deserve that at least.”
As I was coughing and gently rubbing my throat, trying to ease the pain caused by his knee, he just held me there silently, slightly rocking back and forth. I knew he was contemplating the validity of my demand and weighing it against his desire for brutal force in enforcing the town’s will. After a few short moments, he stared down at me and shrugged his shoulders.
“Boy, you may be right. Well, you would be right if you were still in the big city. The city filled with sin and sinners and people who only care about lawlessness. But we, the people of this town, we have our own laws and rules. And those laws and rules, once broken, are dealt with swiftly!”
I tried to bargain, to plead for mercy, even though I knew I had done nothing wrong. The Sheriff just resumed his beating. First, his stone-like fists landed firmly on my jaw, knocking my head backwards. Then he punched lower and pounded deeply into my abdomen, causing me to buckle and drop to the floor.
He said sternly, “Boy, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Right now I would prefer the hard way, but that’s solely up to you!”
I tried to stand, but my legs were weak and unsteady. My eyes were rolling around inside my skull and unable to remain in place. The lights were dimming, and losing consciousness was bound to happen at any second. The Sheriff never retreated from his assault and continued beating me to a bloody pulp. As soon as I hit the floor, he started kicking me with all he had in the ribs and then lifted me to my knees.
The last thing I remembered was him grabbing a handful of my hair and dragging me toward the door. Blood trickling from my eyes, ears, and mouth, I gasped my last conscious breath of air. He threw me into the back of his car and sped off to town.
***
It was like a celebrity had come to visit. All the people were lined up trying to peek in the windows at the criminal knocked out in the backseat. The screaming and cheering were happening like when a national hero returns home to his adoring public. Only this time, I was no hero, and these people certainly didn’t adore me. They were happy to see the outsider severely beaten and unconscious. I was no threat now that I was in the controlling hands of their Sheriff.
He forced his way through the crowd and grabbed the door handle.
He turned to the crowd and said, “You wanted this, and I made it happen. Now, let justice proceed, and don’t hamper my ability to fulfill my duties. Please, stand back. This man only has a dark damp jail cell to look forward to, so let me get him to it.”
The people roared out in excitement, showing their approval for the Sheriff’s staunch success in clobbering the outsider. They were all satisfied that I could bring no further danger their way and returned to their normal activities.
The Sheriff jerked me out of the car by my collar and dragged me, lifeless, to the dungeon that awaited me. Tossing me easily onto the cold, wet, dirt floor, he shook his head.
“It didn’t have to be like this. If you would’ve only given it a little more time for the people to get used to you being here, then we wouldn’t be at this point.”
I wanted to scream and yell, but I was barely able to manage a low-grade grunt. He brought a small pan of water and a towel and set them by the bars on the door.
“Better get yourself cleaned up some. Dirt and fresh wounds don’t make a good mixture.” He was laughing, “God, I love my job!”
I was still lying in a crumpled-up mess, a blubbering sack of broken bones and tenderized flesh, as I gave in to the blackness now overtaking my eyes.
I just wanted to stay lost in the nothingness of the chaotic, yet, peaceful dreams I was having. Somehow, I knew it wouldn’t last for long.
Suddenly, I felt little rocks landing softly by my cheeks. I managed to pull myself up to the military style cot, which was the only piece of furniture in the room, and I sat there trying to pull myself together. Again, rocks started bouncing off my head. I turned as quickly as I could and saw James standing there.
He was holding a finger up to his lips and blowing softly, hoping I would understand to be quiet.
“Mister, you’ve done it now. No! Don’t try to move or talk. Just listen, ok?”
I nodded in acceptance and immediately fell hopelessly onto the cot.
“Look, you pissed these people off spying on them. They didn’t like it one bit. But you have to understand, they are more scared of you than anything else. They don’t know why they have these feelings of hate toward you. They only know that every time a new outsider appears, someone else from the community disappears. You being here means one of them has to die!”
I gathered up enough energy to say, “How?”
“Mister, listen to me! There’s a delicate balance in this town, and you’ve pushed that balance to its full capacity. Something has to give. The way the town sees it, you’re the piece out of place, and they’re willing to do whatever they have to in order to keep you from finding your place in the puzzle.”
“James, I hate this town and the people in it! If it’s the last thing I do, they will all pay! I don’t want to be here anymore than they want me here, but this is no way to treat someone!”
“I agree, but you’re never gonna make them see that. Here’s what I wanted to tell you. I don’t have much time before dark, and, well, you know what happens then. So, just listen, ok?
Again, I nodded, letting him know that I understood.
“You think you’re hurt now! You believe that that blood soaking all your clothes is real. It’s not! This is not happening! Well, it is, but… at the same time, it isn’t. They can’t kill you. There’s only one person allowed to take a life in this town, and that’s Willow. The Sheriff, Mr. Harte, Mr. Allen… no one can do anything-- not even the elder. They don’t know this. They believe they’re still in control of their lives and their actions, but they’re not. Willow is! They’re all just puppets dangling on a string, fully under her control, under her power! You can still follow through with your plans at the town meeting. You just have to demand your right to judgment by the elder. They can’t refuse your request. My time’s almost up. I have to go, but remember, they aren’t in control.”
I was lying there, trying to take in all that he had just said and hoping that any of it would start to make sense, but consciousness betrayed me to the pain flowing throughout my body. I lost my will to stay awake.
***
The next day was a nightmare. I was woken up by a boot to my skull, reopening wounds that hadn’t even begun to heal yet, only to hear sadistic laughing as my tormentor walked away. I wasn’t sure if I was really awake or just dreaming the abuse, but the constant pool of blood I was drowning in made it feel all too real
.
Then James’ words entered my ears: It’s real, but it isn’t. They can’t kill you. I didn’t know what he meant. Everything was a blur. Even when the Sheriff was gone, I still felt the heel of his boots scraping down my jaw. I couldn’t be positive if the puddle I was lying in was from the sticky blood pouring on the ground or from the mixture of dirt and salty tears I had been crying.
Suddenly, I was lifted up and set down on the cot. A voice boomed and, between the veins pulsing and the bruises still gradually forming on my mangled body, I couldn’t tell who it was.
“How does it feel?”
My lips never parted, but the words still flew out, “How does what feel?”
“Being at the mercy of pathetic creatures, creatures who let their fears lead them?”
Peering out through the one eye that wasn’t yet swollen shut, I said, “Who are you?”
“Don’t you recognize me, Lover? I thought our connection was stronger than that.”
“You bitch! What, you nearly killing me wasn’t enough? Now, you have this hired goon doing your dirty work for you?”
“Lover, I’m just proving a point. You need to live the trials I experienced before you’re ready to give me your heart. You do remember giving me your heart, don’t you?”
Every word I spoke painted her face a thick crimson as I screamed, “I have many regrets in my life, and ever allowing you near my soul is the biggest!”
“Hahaha… You’re so cute when you’re mad.”
“You haven’t seen me mad yet! I swear, before this is over, you will all pay!”
“Oh, lover, please don’t make promises that you sadly can’t keep.”
“You are an abomination of life! You…”
Dismissively, she waved her hand, and I was immediately slammed against the stone walls.
“Shut up! I’ve had enough of this redundant conversation. This is what I came here to say. So, Lover, listen well! My trials are now your trials, and if you prevail, I will give you another chance to grovel at my feet for all eternity. But you must survive the trials first: being falsely accused of crimes you didn’t commit, not being able to defend yourself against the overwhelming crowd begging for your death, being held prisoner in a pitiful cell, and suffering all the injustices your captors decide to perpetrate against you, physically, mentally, and sexually. The final stages are what I enjoy the most, being this town’s sexual pet, consent is not necessary…”