The Witness

by Sharon Harclerode

  “No need to apologize, Jake. It’s not your fault. It’s just how the cards were dealt. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.” With one last glance, he smiled at me and started silently sprinting back to his house.

  I always envied how foxlike Ethan moved. He could sneak up on you and you would never know until it was too late. As he disappeared into the darkness and out of sight, a chill ran down my spine. Our plan wasn’t foolproof, but we had to try. It was hard to imagine that Bill would be above the law, even with friends who were cops and judges. I walked slowly back to my room.

  Dead man walking, I thought. I passed my parents’ room and put an ear to their door. The only sound was the intermittent rhythm of Huxley’s jagged snore. I placed my hand on their door and hoped they would know how much I loved them.

  Once I reached the doorway of my room, I froze. My eyes darted from corner to corner, trying to relive a life that was so familiar to me just yesterday. One that I took for granted. It’s funny how we don’t appreciate life until it’s dangling in front of us on a string, threatening to break. I closed the door and locked it for what seemed like the last time. The magnitude of the situation hit me like a sledgehammer. I knew I was in over my head. Misery climbed over me, and I felt like Bill would do anything to silence me. Death became a real possibility. I crawled into my bed, and for the first time in a long time, I wept. I was drowning in a pool of my own emotions without a life jacket, hanging on to the cliché and naive hope found in fairy tales and movies that the good guys always win.

  They did, didn’t they?

  Chapter 9

  Rays of sunshine streaked through my windows, announcing the arrival of morning. It had been a restless night. Images of the young women posted on the attic wall haunted my dreams. I dragged myself out of bed and cursed the coldness of the wooden floor beneath my feet. Dark circles had become permanent fixtures underneath my eyes, and the reflection in the mirror made me think that I had aged twenty years overnight.

  It was going to be a long day, and I had a ton to do. I was going to need a giant cup of black coffee to not only wake up but to have the courage to start phase one of our plan. I slipped on a pair of socks and headed downstairs. On my way down, I noticed that my parents’ door was still shut. They rarely slept in, but it worked in my favor this morning. They must have overdone it on the wine.

  I started the coffeemaker and threw some bacon in the oven. I didn’t feel like eating, but I knew I would need all of the strength I could muster today. Plus my parents would be suspicious if I didn’t eat. Part one included getting my parents and Huxley out of the house tonight. I was anxious enough about my own safety; they would just add another layer of worry, and I didn’t want them to become collateral damage when it came to Bill.

  My parents were terrible about using gift certificates and gift cards, so I needed to find the stack of them we kept in some random drawer. I searched every nook and cranny looking for those damn things. Just as I was about to throw in the towel, I searched one last small drawer partially hidden underneath a pile of fabric that my mom used for crafts.

  Aha! I grabbed the stack of certificates and cards and began to review them one by one, not sure what would work on such short notice. Toward the bottom of the stack I discovered a gift certificate to the Hill Valley Resort and Spa, which was a two-hour drive away. It was for one complimentary night with dinner included, and I knew the resort was pet friendly for dogs that were Huxley’s size. They even had a pet spa there to pamper four-legged guests. The certificate was set to expire in a couple of weeks, but I knew that if I didn’t call ahead and make the reservation, they would never cash it in.

  Fifteen minutes later, my parents and Huxley were booked for this evening, arrival slated for six p.m. I was lucky that they had a last-minute cancellation and a space opened up. Checkout wasn’t until eleven a.m. the next morning, so I knew it would give me the time I needed to deal with whatever Bill had up his dirty sleeve.

  The timer on the oven started to beep. I took out the bacon, enough for three people, with an extra slice for Huxley. I figured since I had come this far I might as well finish off breakfast with my famous scrambled cheese eggs. I added a little bit of cream cheese toward the end to melt into the eggs. I really only knew how to cook three things: bacon, eggs, and spicy ramen. My parents were coming down the stairs just as I finished plating up breakfast. I wanted to enjoy this moment with my family. I wanted it to be special.

  “Well, this is nice surprise, honey!” My mother’s face lit up, and the warmth of her brown eyes made me both happy and sad.

  My dad placed his oversized hand on my shoulder and simply said, “Thanks, son.”

  Even Huxley licked my hand and wagged his tail. We all sat down around the table, ate breakfast, and talked about world events and neighborhood chatter. It was a light conversation and a nice departure from the depressing and negative discussions I’d been having as of late. I was almost fooled into thinking that everything would be all right and that life had somehow become normal again. But eating breakfast was more of a chore than I anticipated, and I had a sour stomach from all of the stress. Still, I forced every bit of food into my mouth.

  The sound of a reminder on my phone snapped me back to reality, and once again my thoughts turned to the evil that awaited me. I started to clear the dishes away while my mom picked up one of her cooking magazines and my dad started to dive into the morning paper. They were both preoccupied, their attention squarely on reading. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at them both, silently thanking them for being the kind of parents they were. I took note of the subtle silver streaks flanking the sides of my dad’s head and the tiny creases around my mom’s mouth that had taken root after years of smiling. It was a good time to tell them about their reservation so I could start to execute part two of the plan.

  “Hey, Mom? I know how hard you guys have been working lately, and I thought it would be nice if you were able to take a night off. I found an old gift certificate to Hill Valley Resort that was set to expire soon, so I made you a reservation for tonight, six p.m. sharp. I even scheduled an appointment for Huxley at the pet spa during your dinner.” I was never a good liar, but the sincerity in my voice surprised even me.

  They both looked dumbfounded. First they looked at me and then at each other. Slowly but surely, smiles began to emerge on both of their faces, and for once they were momentarily at a loss for words.

  “Are you trying to get rid of us, son?” my dad said in a playful tone.

  For a second I thought the jig was up, but then my mom said, “I’m so excited, honey! It’s been ages since your dad and I have visited that place, and I forgot that we had that gift certificate. How thoughtful of you!”

  She was almost too giddy. On the outside I was smiling and laughing with them, but on the inside I was both relieved that they would be safe and terrified at what they would find when they came home.

  Paranoia followed me like a shadow, and I wanted an extra layer of insurance in case things went south. Back in my room, I began to rummage through an old chest full of junk and random things.

  Where in the hell are they? Just as I was about to give up and move onto the closet, I spotted them. Two camouflage hunter trail cameras that hadn’t been used in a few years stared back at me.

  “There you are!” I could hardly contain the excitement in my voice. I prayed that they were both still operational. There was only one way to find out. I grabbed the large plastic container that I kept filled with various battery sizes and fished out eight AA batteries and anxiously shoved them into one of the cameras. I checked the SD card and made sure it looked okay, then turned it on to test it. I set it down and let it record as I walked around the room, triggering it with motion.

  As a second test, I took it into my closet and closed the door, hoping the night vision would kick in. After a minute or two, I hit the playback button, and bingo, it worked! My dad used to be a huge hunter and camper a few years bac
k. He didn’t do it much anymore, but he’d bought these for me as a way to entice me to join him. He knew how much I loved technology and tried to use them as bait for me to pick up one of his favorite pastimes. I never enjoyed shooting a gun, even though my dad had taught me how when I was a kid. Hunting and camping was just so boring to me, so it never really took, but I always tried my best to participate for my dad’s sake.

  I tested the other camera, and the outcome was the same. I wanted to have another layer of protection beyond my word and the witness testimony from Lori and Ethan.

  It was close to 11:30 a.m. when I finally started to make my way out of the house. I had to run a few errands before my parents left. Walking out to my car, I glanced over toward Ethan’s house. It was eerily quiet, and Ethan’s car was parked out front in its usual spot. I didn’t have time to wonder what they were up to. I had too much to do and too little time. With a flick of the key and a rev of the engine, I was on my way to the sporting goods store. After that, I needed to hit up one of those big box retailers where you could find almost anything.

  I had a short list of items to get—a small hunting knife with an ankle sheath, camouflage paint, a flash drive, pepper spray, and a box of Twinkies. They were so bad for you, but I’d always loved them, and if I was going to die tonight, I wanted to indulge one last time.

  I made it back home in just under an hour and looked toward Ethan’s house once I got out of the car. His car was now gone, and I couldn’t detect any movement from inside the house. Our garage door was open, and my dad was packing stuff into the car. I asked if he needed a hand, but he politely declined and went back to packing the car. I sent Ethan a quick text using part of the code we created last night. It was short, simple, and totally innocuous to anyone who didn’t know better. I entered the number 1 in the message box and hit send. It was to tell him that phase one of our plan was in action.

  I ran past my mom, who was in the kitchen gathering up snacks for the road trip. Back in the safe haven of my room, I laid out all of my supplies. I pulled out my black backpack and started to stuff it. Trail cameras, camouflage paint, extra batteries, portable phone charger, college ID card (in case my bag was found and not me, it could be traced back), small towel, duct tape, small flashlight, and two Twinkies with a bottle of water.

  Satisfied with my packing job, I put the bag next to my bedroom door. Next I tested the knife and ankle sheath. It felt more accessible on my left ankle and made it easier for me to grab with my right hand, which was dominant. I placed both the knife and pepper spray on the desk; those would be put on last.

  Finally, I sat down and stared at the blank legal pad before me. I wanted to leave my parents and friends with what could be my final thoughts—loving memories, well wishes, but most of all the truth. At first I struggled to put pen to paper, but after closing my eyes and picturing the last twenty years of my life, the words began to flow like a raging river, and my hand couldn’t keep up with the pace of my thoughts. Thirty minutes later, I was finished. The cramp in my hand was proof that I probably babbled more than necessary, but I didn’t care. I felt like I’d just written my last will and testament. It would’ve been easier to type it, but I wanted it to be in my own hand to make it more personal and endearing.

  I checked the time—1:07 p.m. I was supposed to check in with Ethan via text again around nine p.m. to see how things were going on his end. I had plenty of time to wrap things up and try to take a nap. I still had a couple of hours before my parents and Huxley would get on the road, so I decided to go and set up the trail cameras. Once I was outside again, I couldn’t help but look toward Ethan’s house. His car was now back in its parking spot, and Ethan was standing next to it. He must’ve just got home.

  I gave him a quick nod and let my stare simmer for a few seconds before starting toward the park. Ethan nodded back, which hopefully meant that all was going well. I thought I saw him give me a slight smile. With nerves already eating away at me, I quickened my pace toward Headley Park.

  The Castle Ridge Overlook was one of several overlooks in the park. Usually I loved going to the park; I used to ride my bike there as a kid. The thought of a place I enjoyed as a kid now being the backdrop for my confrontation with Bill was unsettling. Miles of trails both single and double track were there. If you ventured deep enough, no one would hear you for miles, and that was probably why Bill chose it.

  It was only when I entered the park that I stole a glance behind my shoulder to see if anyone was following me or watching me. My street was just a dot in the background now, and I longed for the safety of my house. With each step deeper and deeper into the park, a feeling of dread grew, and I had to force my legs to keep going. I had to see this through even if I wasn’t sure if I would wake up tomorrow.

  Twenty minutes later, I finally reached my destination. There were a few people at the overlook, taking pictures and admiring the view. I looked over the edge, down a thirty-foot drop.

  I might survive that, I thought. I was trying to play out all of the different scenarios that Bill had in mind. The sound of laughter snapped me out of the deadly daze I was in and made me realize that time was ticking. I looked around for two good vantage points for the trail cameras.

  There was a good-sized tree just above the overlook and another one not too far from it—those would be my best bet. An older couple, who looked like they were in their fifties, was snapping pictures close to the tree where I wanted to place the first camera. I sat on the park bench adjacent to the tree, waiting for them to leave. After a few more pictures, they waved at me and started walking down the trail. I gave them a half smile and waited until they were completely out of sight before using the bench to hoist myself up into the tree. I broke off a couple small branches and clusters of leaves to use as additional camouflage for the cameras, then jumped back down on the bench and grabbed my backpack. Camera in hand, I placed it on the tree, hoping it would turn out to be a good shot. I had the camera facing the overlook.

  I moved over to the second tree and made quick work of placing camera number two. Stepping back, I evaluated my work to see if the cameras could be seen. Small bits of paint had been rubbed off each camera from being in storage, so I gave them a quick tune-up with the camouflage paint in my bag. After breaking off a few more branches for cover and making sure the cameras were secured firmly to each tree, I was satisfied with my work.

  My clothes were sticking to me, and large sweat stains had formed underneath my arms. I drank the entire bottle of water that was in my bag and ate a Twinkie. My phone started to chime. It was a text from my mom.

  JAke, we are leaving son. Dinnert for yu and put in fridge. Will you be home to see us of?

  I laughed. My mom was absolutely terrible at texting, and she usually sent me either a rambling book of nonsense or short choppy messages riddled with punctuation and spelling errors. She only started sending me texts six months ago. She said it was her way of staying “hip and on trend” with the kids these days.

  I responded and told her I was on my way home. She probably wouldn’t see it for at least another five minutes. Walking back down the trail, I tried to memorize how many steps it was and if there were any irregularities on the path or loose rocks in case it was too dark to see. I also looked for potential hiding places in case I needed one. I passed several signs on the way down, one of which read, Patrols done hourly. I wasn’t sure what route they would take, but I made a mental note of it.

  The park closed at 10:30 p.m. during the summer, which meant the electronic gates would close and make it harder for anyone to get out. The hair on the back of my neck began to stand up. It felt like someone was watching me. I turned around and saw nothing. My eyes scanned the thick brush surrounding me. Nothing. I picked up my pace and started jogging down the trail, leaving a cloud of dust behind me. I was already freaked out, and now I just wanted to get the hell out of the park.

  Within a few minutes, I made it to the clearing by the parking lot, just inside t
he entrance. More people were around, and the lot was buzzing with activity. Exiting, I turned right to go back toward my neighborhood. The feeling of being watched stayed with me the entire time, all the way up to my front door. It was only when I crossed the threshold and closed the door that I felt safe again.

  But I knew in my heart that it wouldn’t last.

  Chapter 10

  I jumped in the shower, wanting to wash off the layer of dirt that had accumulated as I ran from the park. It was around 2:45 p.m., and I knew that my parents would soon be on the road. I wanted to see them off. I had to see them off. I breezed through the shower and got dressed. My flip-flops were right by my door, so I tossed those on and dashed out the door, just in time to see my parents going down the stairs with Huxley in tow. I must’ve been going too fast because I almost slipped at the top of the stairs. Catching my balance on the railing, I steadied myself and took it a bit slower going down the stairs. Bill wouldn’t have to kill me if I inadvertently killed myself first.

  At the bottom of the stairs, my mom waited for me with that how many times have I told you to be more careful mother look on her delicate face. All I could do was wrap my lanky arm around her shoulders and kiss her forehead.

  “I love you. I really hope you and dad have a great night.” I tried to smile with my eyes.

  “Oh, honey! Are you sure you will be okay tonight on your own? I know you’re all grown up and can take care of yourself, but I feel like something is off. You haven’t quite been yourself these past couple of days, and I thought it was because of Huxley, but now I’m not so sure.” She grabbed my face and peered into my eyes, scanning my face to see if she could detect anything with her mom radar.

  “Mom, I’m fine. I’ve just been . . . just been really tired lately. Probably burned the candle at both ends too much during the school year and it’s finally caught up to me.” I was tired and extremely stressed, but it had nothing to do with school. She looked at me and nodded her head. Huxley was at my feet, licking my leg. I picked him up and kissed the top of his head. “I love you too, buddy. Take good care of them.”