Black Stump Ridge

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Black Stump Ridge Page 10

by John Manning; Forrest Hedrick


  Her car is parked inside.

  Now Romeo is confused. Is she ignoring the doorbell? Is she asleep? Is she ill? Has she had some kind of an accident? He returns to the front door with renewed purpose. He rings the bell despite his certainty that the action is pointless. There will be no response. He knows that, now. He tries the doorknob, although he knows it is locked. His certainty that something is wrong continues to grow.

  He walks around the house looking for another entrance. There is a small door leading into the garage, but that, too, is locked. He reaches the patio with its sliding glass doors. He looks inside.

  Janine lies on the floor. Her pulped face is turned towards him. Her head lies within a dark pool on the floor. Flies crawl unconcerned over her blank, staring eyes. Her open lips now kiss only the busy, hungry insects.

  Fear floats on the bile that burns the back of his throat as Romeo steps away from the door. Is she hurt and unconscious or is she dead? He steps forward and tries the door, but it’s locked and unyielding. He can see the burglar bar in place on the inside, further blocking entrance.

  He looks around, ignoring his rising panic, and tries to find something — anything — that he can use to break into the house. Picking up a heavy patio stone, he throws it at the glass. The panel cracks but doesn’t break. He picks it up and tries again. The sound of breaking glass shatters the quiet afternoon silence. He ignores the noise and shards of glass radiating from the door’s frame and reaches inside. He undoes the bar and then works the lock open. He slides the door to the left and steps inside…

  •

  Charlie shook his head. The vision faded, but the likelihood of it lingered. How much had Janine told her lover? Knowing Janine, she only told him that Charlie would be gone all weekend with his friends.

  Had he told anyone? Perhaps a co-worker? He tried to remember, but nothing came. Still, he had to assume that someone knew. Were the police, even now, questioning the guys’ families? Was the search already closing in?

  He shook his head. No, probably not. Not this quickly, at any rate. That kind of speed only happened on television where every crime had to be investigated, analyzed, and solved within sixty minutes, commercials included. He still had time. They might be closing in by Friday night or Saturday – Sunday at the very latest.

  Of course, by then it would be too late. He hated to end his friends’ trip like that, but Charlie had no intention of going to prison. This was the best solution. It was the only solution.

  He stopped. The surrounding forest looked vaguely familiar, but he had no idea how he managed to get here. He looked around. He saw no signs of houses in any direction. He studied the trees. On the left, about twenty yards away, was the blind that Fred had showed him. Charlie smiled as he crossed to the tree.

  A makeshift board ladder snaked up the trunk. He tested the rungs within reach. They seemed solid enough. He tightened the cooler’s strap and the shotgun’s sling. After tugging on the boards one last time – the irony of his planned suicide being thwarted by a broken leg did not escape him – he climbed the fifteen feet to the crude wooden platform.

  Once he was in the blind and standing on the platform Charlie looked around. The view was magnificent. He could see over a shoulder of the mountain to the next ridge. There appeared to be some sort of ruin near the top, although at this distance it could just as easily have been an oddly positioned deadfall. Perhaps he would explore it tomorrow. He turned slowly, taking in the rest of the view. It amazed him that such a small change in elevation could make such a difference.

  The platform was safer than it appeared from the ground. Two-by-four rails of yellow pine supported by evenly spaced uprights of the same wood formed a secure balcony. A roll of canvas tarpaulin lay on the right side of the blind. Steel eyebolts screwed into the floor’s planking provided anchors for the tarpaulin’s ties. He looked at the sky. What clouds he saw were few, high, and fluffy. There was no threat of rain. Although a slight breeze caressed his cheeks, the thin branches and scant leaves surrounding his aerie barely moved. He decided to leave the tarp where it was.

  He passed the sling over his head and rested the shotgun on the platform. He unclipped the cooler, sat down with his back against the tree trunk, and took a can of beer from the container. He popped the top and took a deep drink. He belched loudly.

  “Better out than in, I always say,” he told the tree. He smiled – his first real smile of the day – and settled in to watch the afternoon fade into evening.

  And, to think.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Fred sat in a folding chair on the deck enjoying what remained of the afternoon sun as it made its descent behind the ridge. The shadows marched across the redwood planks toward him. Soon the sun would be gone and with it what little warmth remained in the day. He looked up at the tree-covered slope. The shadows were already deep beneath the branches. With the arrival of the moonless night, the darkness would be reduced to starlight, although this far from civilization even that meager amount could be quite bright.

  Charlie was up there somewhere. Hopefully he was in the blind and protected by the tarp. He was an experienced hunter and no stranger to the out-of-doors, so why had he decided to go up there alone? The more Fred thought about it, the more certain he became that something was bothering Charlie.

  Was there trouble at home? Perhaps he and Janine had argued before the trip. Probably about the trip. Fred tried to draw Charlie out a couple of times, but one or the other of the guys had interrupted, bringing an end to any answers he might have gotten.

  “It’s nice out here.” Fred heard the sliding door open and then close. Johnny snagged another folding chair and set it near Fred’s.

  “Yeah, but it’s going to get cold fast once the sun goes down. I hope Charlie gets back soon. I’d hate to have to go up there to look for him.”

  “It’s going to be pitch dark, too. I noticed that when we came in last night. No moon.”

  “Has Charlie talked to you about anything?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Trouble at home, maybe? Something’s been bothering him. He was really quiet on the drive out here. He didn’t say much at all today during dinner. Now he’s gone up there by himself.”

  “Yeah, I noticed it, too. He hasn’t said anything to me, though.”

  “Well, whatever it is, I hope he gets over it. We’re supposed to leave all our problems behind us.”

  Johnny said nothing as he stared into the woods. The quiet grew until Fred could no longer stand it. Something was bothering Johnny. He sighed. This was turning into a journey of secrets, it seemed. Charlie and whatever was eating at him was beyond Fred’s help for now, but he saw no need to remain in the dark about this friend.

  “What’s up?”

  Johnny blinked and looked around as if he’d forgotten where he was. He looked at Fred, his expression guarded. “What do you mean?”

  “Charlie’s not the only one with something eating at him. I’m thinking you came out here to talk to me about more than the dark night.”

  Johnny stared impassively at Fred. After a moment, though, he had to look away. “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”

  “How long have we been friends?”

  “I don’t know. Fifteen, maybe sixteen years.”

  “Do you think maybe I’ve learned to tell the happy you from the unhappy you after all that time?”

  “Probably.”

  “Probably? Try definitely.”

  Johnny shook his head. Fred knew him too well. He’d come out here seeking Fred’s input, but now he wasn’t as certain. He had to turn to someone, though. He didn’t know Peete or Charlie as well as he knew Fred – certainly not well enough to share something like this. Although he had been a friend with Dave almost as long as he had Fred, Dave was a joker. Would he treat Johnny’s secret with respect and consideration? Johnny hoped so, but was unwilling to test that hope.

  “Well?”

&nbs
p; Johnny settled back into the chair. His shoulders slumped. He seemed to collapse in on himself like a deflating balloon. He looked back at the sliding glass doors and into the family room. It was empty. Dave and Peete were probably still sleeping off their turkey in front of the television. He turned back.

  “I was hoping I could hold on to this for a couple more years. Just two and it wouldn’t matter any more.” Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know where to turn. I can’t tell Samantha, of course. There’s no way she would understand. And, what about the kids? How would they handle it? It’s just not right for me to bring this kind of confusion and hurt into their lives. Not now. They’re still kids no matter how grown up they try to act. It would be like yanking a carpet out from under them.

  “I tried to keep it casual. I told myself that as long as no one got serious that there was no danger. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way. I became emotionally involved. We grew close. Now I’m trapped.”

  Fred struggled to keep his jaw from dropping open. This was the last thing he expected to hear from his friend. Johnny was a devoted family man. He and his wife, Samantha, had been married almost twenty years. Amanda, his daughter, was seventeen and about to graduate from high school. His son, Kevin, would follow his sister a year later. The idea that Johnny might be having a one-night stand was bad enough. An affair? Inconceivable. Yet, that was where the conversation seemed headed.

  Fred braced himself as Johnny took a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled slowly. Two words rode the escaping air: “I’m gay.”

  The phrase struck Fred like a hammer to the stomach. His first reaction was that he was wrong. This was the last thing he’d expected to hear.

  Johnny glanced at Fred. “Shut your mouth. You look like a hooked fish floppin’ on the bottom of a boat.”

  Fred’s jaw snapped closed. He stared at the forest while he tried to bring order to the thoughts tumbling in his brain like clothes in a dryer. Johnny gay? His mind reeled. He tried to grasp the idea, but the concept stayed just beyond reach.

  “How? I mean, when? What?” Fred stopped trying to speak.

  “Yeah. It’s kind of a shock for you, too, I guess.”

  “Shock? That’s an understatement. I thought you were getting ready to tell me you were having an affair. With a woman. But, this…” He shook his head. “Wow.”

  “Wow. Now there’s a word.”

  “Sorry. My vocabulary seems to have flown away just now.” Fred shook his head. It was a stunning revelation. No doubt about that. But, there had to be a reason why his friend chose this moment to come out. He pulled his emotions back under control. He could deal with them later. Right now, his friend needed him to be clear headed. He took a deep breath, held it, and let it slowly out. His heart still raced, but he felt calmer.

  “Okay. So, you’re gay. That’s a shocker for sure. Why now?”

  “What?”

  “Why did you choose now – this weekend, this night, this place – for your revelation?”

  Johnny hesitated. He’d set the stage. He’d come this far. Did he dare tell Fred the rest? Did he dare not tell him?

  “His name is Michael. I was cruising, looking for a little action. I didn’t want a full time lover. The last thing I needed was that sort of complication. He caught my eye as soon as I walked into the club. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like him. His eyes are so intense. He has this air about him. Have you ever read any vampire novels?”

  “A few.”

  “He’s like that. He has dark curly hair and the whitest skin, kind of like an alabaster statue.”

  Fred squirmed. Listening to his friend describe the attractiveness of another male made him uncomfortable although he tried his best to hide it. Johnny noticed it anyway.

  “Don’t worry,” he smiled. “You’re not my type.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Anyway, we hooked up. You don’t need the details. It’s enough to say that my intention for a one-night stand got derailed. I tried to stay away. I really did. But I found that the more I was with him the more I needed to be with him. It became an obsession.”

  “How long?”

  Johnny thought for a moment. “Just under three years, now.”

  “Three years?” Fred was incredulous. “You’ve been having an affair with another man for three years and no one noticed?”

  “We were very discreet.”

  “I guess so! I don’t think I could have kept an affair with a woman a secret for that long. I’m impressed as well as surprised.”

  Johnny chuckled. The sound carried relief. “It wasn’t easy. And, now, it’s probably all for nothing. By the time we get home it may be old news.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone’s heard about the mistress who gets tired of being the other woman. The one who threatens to expose the affair to the wife.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, straights don’t have a monopoly on that. Michael has always been out. He’s rather militant, too. He feels that gays who keep their orientation hidden are helping the homophobe agenda. He’s been pressuring me to come out, too. I keep telling him that I will once the kids are out of school, but lately he’s been pressing harder. Just before I left he told me that he was tired of waiting. He hinted that if I wouldn’t tell Samantha then he would do it for me. I begged him to wait, but he wouldn’t promise anything. I was so worried about it that I almost backed out of the trip.”

  “Why didn’t you? Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I don’t know. I guess it would have felt like I was giving him control. That somehow he would have won something and I would have lost.” Johnny paused. He took a deep breath. “I had a horrible nightmare just before I woke up this morning. It was so bad that when I woke up I was afraid I had screamed in my sleep. I guess I didn’t because no one else seemed to be awake.

  “In the dream I was up in a blind. It was a lot like the one you took us to this morning. It gave me a strange feeling when I saw it.

  Anyway, this magnificent buck wandered down the mountain and stood in front of me. I sighted in and dropped it with a single shot. Only, just as I pulled the trigger, the buck’s head melted away and it was Michael standing in my sights just before the bullet blew his face apart.”

  The silence grew.

  Finally Fred finally spoke. “That’s quite a problem. I don’t think I’ve ever run into one quite like it. That dream was pretty disturbing, too. What really matters is what can I do to help?”

  Johnny opened his mouth to reply when the sliding door crashed open. Peete stuck his head outside and shouted, “You guys need to see this! Hurry!”

  Fred and Johnny looked at each other. They rushed inside behind Peete. The TV in the family room was tuned to the national news. The anchorwoman was reading from a paper in her hand. Below her picture were the words: BREAKING NEWS. Fred barely noticed any of this. What held his eye was the woman pictured to the left of the newscaster. There was no mistaking that face with its cold smile and haughty expression. It was Janine Dobbs.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Charlie’s first sensation when he woke was that he was very cold. He opened his eyes. At first, he saw only blackness. His cheek rested against something rough. He moved his head slightly. Canvas. He turned his head the other way. His breath caught. So many stars! The hard white points filled the sky in numbers beyond anything he’d ever seen.

  A familiar urgency grabbed his attention. He had to pee – badly. He tried to remember where he was. He felt hard wooden boards beneath him. Two by four rails – barely visible in the starlight – crossed his field of vision from left to right. He was in the blind. He crawled to the edge and used the rail to pull himself up. Something rolled across the platform behind him as he quickly unzipped his pants. He stood for what felt like an hour as the steaming stream arced out to splash on the ground below. The relief was nearly orgasmic.

  Finished, he closed his trousers and tu
rned around. With his eyes adjusted to the meager light he could see the tree trunk rising above the blind. Closer to him was the rolled tarpaulin. Next to that lay his shotgun and the open cooler. An empty beer can nestled against one of the uprights on the opposite side of the blind. He stepped toward it, intending to pick it up, but it rolled back across the blind, slipped between two uprights, and disappeared over the edge of the platform.

  He looked at his watch. At first, he had trouble making out the faint luminescence. His eyes focused. It was nine-thirty. He hadn’t meant to stay out this long. Fred and the others were probably worried. Maybe they were already looking for him. He needed to get back to the cabin.

  He picked up his shotgun. He slipped the sling over his shoulder, looked down, and debated grabbing the cooler. He finally grasped the strap and dropped the cooler over the edge. It landed softly at the base of the tree. He felt around the tree trunk until he found the makeshift ladder. Carefully, he eased down the rungs. His foot slipped once. The sling slid down his arm. The barrel moved perilously close to his face as the sudden shift in weight threatened to pull him from the ladder. His breath caught as his foot groped for the narrow board. When his footing was again secure, he eased the shotgun back into position and continued his descent.

  Safely on the ground, he stopped to catch his breath and consider his next move. Which way to go? He tried to remember which side of the tree the ladder was on when he first saw it. He walked around the trunk but in the darkness everything looked the same.

  He should stay put until someone came for him. That’s what all of the books said. If he stayed put, however, hypothermia would become a problem. It was cold and getting colder. He had to find his way back. What were the chances of his getting lost in these woods? People lived out here however sparsely they might be scattered. Even if he went the wrong way he’d eventually find his way to someone’s house. Once there, he would explain his plight. They’d either take him to where he belonged or they’d give him shelter for the night.

 

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