The Vivisectionist

by Ike Hamill

  “Greg! That’s wonderful!” Kate said and squeezed her husband’s hand.

  Jack could tell when his dad was about to launch into an excited rant. He never paid attention when his parents talked about their contracts. His parents had started the business together, and remained the only two employees six years later. They had a language all their own.

  Jack’s thoughts turned back to his inventory. Ben would arrive the next day, and he wanted to make sure that he had found everything they would need. The cooler would have to wait for Ben, but Jack thought he could move the rest of the stuff with his one remaining arm.

  If Ben showed up by noon, they could set up by four, and then have plenty of time to walk to the store. Then they would get back in time to cook their own dinner outside. Making their own meals seemed crucial to their independence during their back-yard camping.

  Soon his parents were starting to clear the table.

  “You hardly touched your food. What’s wrong with your appetite lately?” his mom asked.

  “I don’t know. Just tired I guess,” replied Jack.

  “Why don’t you go curl up in front of the TV and we’ll be there in a sec,” said his mom.

  “Okay,” said Jack. He sensed they were going to talk about him.

  Jack couldn't find anything better than nature shows. His mind had been wandering a lot lately. He wondered if he was thinking too much; was there such a thing? As soon as the lions started stalking their prey, Jack started to really pay attention. He was engrossed by the time his dad came in a few minutes later.

  “Everything okay, Jack?” his dad asked.

  “Sure, well, except for this,” Jack said as he gingerly raised his left arm.

  “Yeah, but even before that — you seem a little preoccupied lately. Have you been thinking of Gabe?”

  Jack flinched a bit at the mention of the missing neighbor kid.

  “I don’t know — not really,” Jack lied.

  “It’s okay. It certainly was quite a shock. Nothing like that ever happened when I was a kid.”

  “What do you mean ‘was a shock’? It’s not over yet, is it?”

  “Well no, no, of course not. It’s just that, well there’s a period time where they really want to find some sort of lead. I think it’s forty-eight hours or so, but the odds of finding something after that,” his dad said. He slowed down as the sentence progressed. “Nobody is giving up on Gabe, but we do have to be realistic. It's been several months and from what we know there hasn’t been any information.”

  “Maybe they’re not thinking about it right,” said Jack. “Did they try to think about it backwards?”

  “They have the best possible people working on it. You’re right — it’s a puzzle, but this is what they do, and I’m sure they’ve thought about it every possible way,” consoled his dad. “Just don’t fixate on it, Jack. Sometimes things happen that we can’t control.”

  Jack hadn’t realized that he had been thinking about Gabe until his dad brought it up. Now it was all he could think about.

  “Get some rest, you’ve got to get healthy for your vacation,” said his dad. He settled into a chair next to the sofa. “What are you watching, anyway? Gross!”

  **********

  When Jack got up the next morning, he had barely slept. It was early — Jack was still on his school schedule — but it was already hot, and Jack’s father wouldn’t run the air-conditioner until it got even hotter. Jack normally didn’t mind, he preferred the windows open, but this morning the heat added to his discomfort. He had lived the same dream over and over all night. In his dream he was on the Vigue’s deck when Mr. Vigue burst through the screen door. Instead of kicking over the grill, he came right at Jack.

  “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?” dream-Vigue screamed, inches from Jack’s face. “What are you, stupid or something?”

  His dream ended with Mr. Vigue lifting him up by the front of his shirt. The neighbor’s dream-breath smelled like sour milk, ammonia, and dirt. His eyes were bloodshot and blank. They weren’t focused on Jack, which was unnerving, but his eyes also seemed to be missing the spark that would make them look human. Jack’s shirt was giving way under the armpits as the angry man held him up with no effort. It was the most realistic dream Jack had ever experienced.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Boy

  Something tugged at the boy's sleeve. Scissors pulled and then sliced the fabric. The cold metal touched his arm briefly when the scissors opened, and then they sliced again. When the cut came around to his armpit he raised his arm as much as he could. He could imagine the tip of the scissors poking his sides and he wanted to give them as much room as possible.

  Soon the cut around the sleeve was complete and the scissors made a journey down his arm. The shirt-sleeve couldn’t be shed normally because of the restraints.

  During this process, he heard no sounds from the man except the slice. He detected no breathing. The cutting seemed to continue for hours. Each garment went through the same careful extraction until the boy believed that he was completely naked except for his underwear and the burlap hood on his head.

  He smelled paint. His house had smelled the same way for weeks after his parents had remodeled the bathroom. The man brushed cold paint onto the boy's chest. The smell was incredibly strong, but not unpleasant. It smelled clean and orderly.

  This touch was much more delicate than the scissors.

  “What a strange sensation,” he thought as the liquid on his skin began to dry. It was tight and itchy. He squirmed in his restraints.

  CHAPTER 4

  Ben

  By breakfast, Jack’s outlook was improving. Getting showered and dressed had helped him wake up and forget the dream. His mom cooked a feast and Jack ate everything set before him.

  “So what’s on the plan today, Bub?” his mom asked.

  “I gotta get everything ready — Ben will be here at noon,” Jack said through a mouthful of food.

  “I heard about that. Stephen’s coming too?”

  “Not yet, he’s he’s gonna come later,” replied Jack.

  “Good. That should be good for him.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jack said. He was hardly listening.

  When he had scraped the last of the egg from the plate to his mouth, Jack jumped up and carried his dishes to the sink. With one hand, he started to clean his plate.

  “Never mind that, I'll take care of it,” his mom said as she shooed him away.

  **********

  When Ben arrived, Jack was methodically taking inventory of the camping gear in the garage. He set down the camping chair and walked over to the car.

  “Hey,” said Jack.

  “Hey yourself” replied Ben. “Pretty sling you got.” Ben nodded to Jack's purple soft-cast.

  “Three weeks — does that suck?”

  Leaning in Ben said softly: “You're the expert, you tell me.”

  “Very funny,” said Jack.

  “Was the hospital awful? I hate the hospital,” said Ben.

  “Jeez, get over it,” said Jack. “You were there like five years ago.”

  The boys paused their conversation as Jack’s mom came out of the house to greet the visitors: “Sheri, hi!” she said to Ben's mom, just getting out of the car.

  “C'mon, let's go around back,” Jack said to Ben.

  In the back yard they started to plan their first day.

  “Let's go over to the store. Get supplies,” suggested Jack.

  “Man, we got all day to do that. Let's go check out the local talent first,” replied Ben.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You live in the neighborhood of hotties, and you don't even know it. Open your eyes my friend, don't you get out?” said Ben.

  “You're obsessed!” exclaimed Jack.

  “So what? Who isn't?”

  “I don't even think anyone around here is home. Don't those rich kids all go away to fancy camps and stuff?”

  “Clearly not all o
f us do.”

  Jack's neighborhood had plenty of kids his age, but they all went to private school, as Ben did. Jack knew very few of his neighbors, but Ben knew most of them.

  “Well what are we going to do, just knock on doors?” asked Jack.

  “No, we just hang and see who's looking.”

  “Just hang? Where?” asked Jack.

  “Chill, my man, chill. Let's go hit the street.”

  “Can we at least bring some money? In case we end up in the vicinity of a store?”

  “Roger that,” said Ben, and led Jack back around to the front of the house.

  **********

  Out front, the boys found their mothers saying goodbye. Ben’s mom was younger and shorter than Jack’s mom. They stood close to each other. Jack and Ben couldn’t hear what they were saying. Sheri returned to a normal tone of voice as she broke away and moved towards her car.

  “I'll talk to you soon, let me know if you need a break,” Ben's mom said as she climbed back into her car.

  “Don't worry, they take care of themselves,” said Kate, Jack's mom.

  “You're wonderful — thanks again!” said Sheri. “Come give me a kiss, Ben,” his mom beckoned him.

  Ben kissed his mom on the cheek. “Bye! See you soon,” he called over his shoulder. Sheri shrugged at Kate and backed out of the driveway. Jack and Ben started down the street towards the more densely-packed houses.

  “Be back soon, Mom. Going to the store,” said Jack.

  “Are you two outdoorsmen going to eat a civilized dinner tonight?” Jack’s mom asked.

  “No, we’re going to cook outside.”

  “There’ll be extra, just in case,” said Jack’s mom as she turned to go inside.

  Jack caught up with Ben who had started to wander down the street, with his hands thrust deep into his pockets. When Ben’s mom had driven away, and Kate had closed the front door, Ben stopped and turned to Jack.

  “You gotta stop walking like a townie and get a little strut going, Jacky,” said Ben.

  “Do you even hear what you sound like anymore?” asked Jack very seriously. “It’s like one of those teen reality shows with you around.”

  Ben shot back a quick hurt look and then saw that Jack was close to cracking up.

  “You’re such a dork,” said Ben. “No wonder you don’t know anything about the ladies.”

  “Shortcut!” yelled Jack as he took off running through an empty lot between two houses. Ben quickly caught him as Jack cradled his sore arm. They continued along a narrow path through a strip of woods that made a lush barrier between the back yards of the neighborhood. They were just deep enough in the woods so that they could barely see the houses they passed. Ben and Jack crept noiselessly and spied on the neighbors.

  The path followed a creek for a few hundred yards and the boys spent nearly an hour looking for frogs and fish in the shallow water. When the path passed into a dark area they sat in the underbrush looking through the trees at a very large house.

  The house was an odd combination of styles — brick and clapboards, balconies and dormers. It was tan, with off-white shutters. The yard between them and the house was perfect. Neither boy could have described why the house looked out of place and ostentatious, but they both sensed that it was.

  “That place is a mansion,” said Jack.

  “I don’t know, it’s not that big,” replied Ben.

  “Who do you think lives there?”

  “Hmm, well, probably Heather Brecker and her family, I’m guessing,” said Ben.

  “Heather Breck-what?” asked Jack. “Where exactly are you getting your information?”

  “Mostly from her.” Ben pointed at a girl their age who was reclining on wicker chair near the house.

  “Oh. Duh.”

  “C’mon,” said Ben as he started towards the house.

  “Wait, what?”

  “Hey Heather,” called Ben. Heather sat up, shaded her eyes, and squinted.

  “Ben Palmer? What are you doing here?” asked Heather.

  “Me? I’m just hanging out with Jack.” Ben cocked his thumb over his shoulder. “You know Jack Randolph? He lives down the street.

  Heather glanced past Ben to Jack who was just struggling out of the woods and starting across the yard. Jack had a vine stuck in his hair and was trying to untangle himself.

  “Never met him,” said Heather and turned back to Ben. “You guys shouldn’t be sneaking around through those woods. My dad gets pretty mad when he sees boys trespassing back there.”

  “Hey, who’s trespassing? We’re just going to the store,” said Ben. “Besides, Jack’s dad owns all of these woods behind here.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” said Heather. “I have to go in now. I have gymnastics in an hour.”

  Heather turned away and strode back to the patio doors on the back of her house. Ben turned and intercepted Jack just as he was catching up. When they had taken a few steps back towards the woods Ben leaned in and whispered to Jack: “Isn’t she hot?”

  “Who? The mean one?” asked Jack.

  Ben punched Jack lightly on this shoulder.

  “Ow — watch that shit!”

  They looked at each other, laughed, and trotted off back into the woods.

  **********

  After spending most of the afternoon meandering through the neighborhood, Ben and Jack finally reached Christy’s, a convenience store about a mile away from Jack’s house. Jack hadn't been there on his own in a while, since before Gabe had disappeared. Back then, Christy's marked the limit of how far Jack could travel alone.

  Back before Jack and Ben were toddlers, Christy's was also a gas station. It still had an island, but no longer had pumps. The boys arrived from the back and hopped the low fence. Inside, they found the typical convenience store offerings: chips, soda, beer, small boxes and cans of this and that. Everything was more expensive than the IGA down in Thomkinsville, but not as bad as the chain stores that specialized in lottery tickets and cigarettes. A string of Christmas bells announced their arrival.

  A fifty-ish woman behind the counter greeted them as they entered: “Hi boys!”

  “Hi,” said Jack. He and Ben turned left and headed back to the refrigerator cases along the back of the store.

  “Hey, we forgot money,” hissed Jack.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Ben as he pointed to his back pocket. “I got it covered.”

  Jack wrinkled his brow and paused. Ben always had better toys and clothes, but Jack usually brought the cash.

  “What about these?” Ben was holding up a box of Twinkies.

  “Yuck! You know I can’t stand those things.”

  “They’re good for you — put hair on your chest,” taunted Ben.

  “You can keep it,” shrugged Jack. “We better get stuff for tomorrow morning too.”

  The boys collected everything they would need for their campground dinner and breakfast and headed up to the front of the store loaded with supplies.

  “Wow, stocking up?” asked the woman behind the counter. She recognized Jack from being from the neighborhood. Her name tag identified her as “Sally.”

  “We’re running away,” smiled Ben.

  “Oh! In that case, you’re not going to get very far,” she said.

  “We’ll be back when we get hungry again.” Ben was never afraid to banter with adults, Jack looked on with admiration. He had always been shy around Sally.

  Sally finished ringing them up — “Today is going to cost you fifteen-sixty-seven, we’ll see about tomorrow.”

  Ben reached for his wallet and carefully fished out a bill. He slid a one hundred dollar bill across the counter. Jack looked on with wide eyes. Sally reached for it and paused with her hand in mid-air.

  “You got anything smaller, big spender?” her tone was no longer as jovial.

  Ben turned red and hastily drew back the bill.

  “Um, yeah, I think so.”

  A few seconds later he pushed a
twenty across the counter.

  “Sorry.”

  “No harm done,” replied Sally. “If you need to break that hundred, Bill is here until noon. He doesn’t like me to take anything above a fifty.”

  “Thanks, Sally,” said Ben, still looking down.

  Sally gave Ben his change and he shoved it into his front pocket. She collected the groceries and handed each of them a bag.

  “Enjoy those burgers,” said Sally as they headed out the door.

  As they walked through the parking lot, Jack looked sideways at Ben, wondering if he should ask about the money. Ben seemed to know what he wanted to ask.

  “My dad only had hundreds,” said Ben and then paused. “I wanted to break it so I would have smaller bills. My mom only gave me one twenty.”

  **********

  “I hereby dub this the first official hamburger of the summer!” Ben said as he pulled a charred lump of beef from his stick.

  Jack clapped his right hand against his leg with approval: “Bravo! Well done, well done! Here, take a bun for that.”

  “Burgers are awesome over a fire. They should always cook them like this,” said Ben.

  Jack hunched down a little and squinted through the bushes so he could spy at the house. Their campsite was on the edge of the woods, just about thirty yards from the back door. They had a tall maple and some thick bushes to give their campsite some privacy.

  “Looks like my parents are having chicken again,” said Jack.

  “You can't see that from there,” said Ben.

  Jack laughed. He balanced his burger on his knee so he could get some chips and poke the fire with his stick.

  “So what do you want to do tomorrow?” Jack asked through a mouthful of chips.

  “Whatever the day brings, Jacky,” replied Ben. “Oh, I know — we should go hunting.”

  “Nothing’s in season. Besides, you’ve never killed anything.”

  “Man… It was just an idea. You don’t have to freak out about it,” replied Ben. He tied a plastic grocery bag on the end of his hamburger stick and waved it over the flames, until it caught. “What about fishing then?”

  “You're burning that bag,” said Jack. “I like mine rare.”