by Nick Younker
When the herd started thinning out, their fear deepened. Shane Duncan Siders stood across the street, looking directly at them. His face showed no emotion; he just stared at them as if he was casing out the house. He made no attempt to look away when they saw him. He just kept on staring.
The boys stood there, frozen, for nearly a minute. Margie and Norman came back into the room and told them to get away from the window. But the boys were so scared, they couldn’t move. Finally, Siders departed and walked north up Adams Street, in the opposite direction of the herd. He stared at them as he walked away.
Joe dropped the shade and looked at Noah. Neither one could say anything, but they knew they were thinking the same thing.
How could Siders know we were there yesterday? If he knew, he would have killed us right away instead of letting us go. He wouldn’t have given us the chance to tell anyone.
But one way or another, he had to have known. Why else would he be outside their window, staring them down? They had never seen him do that before. Noah though that maybe he was just casing out Joe. Maybe he was looking for his moment to kidnap him. But why hadn’t he done it before? Why now?
Noah wondered if Joe had the same thought.
***
7
Burnley sat on top of a hay bale behind the Co-op and held Ellen Stamps while she cried. Sebby sat beside them both, his elbows on his knees. He did not accept the notion that his Dad was going to die.
Burnley had already called Sandra Stamps, but there was no answer. He had left a message on the answering machine. He also called Carolyn’s in Derbie to try to reach Linton, but found out he was already on his way in. Normally, he wouldn’t tell Carolyn something like this over the phone, but he knew Linton was likely going to find Bob out on Highway 66 and he thought Carolyn should know what Linton was about to go through.
Stark rode up on the three-wheeler with Linton following him in the Bronco. Linton pulled around the other side of the ’Bend so the kids could not see his bloodstained clothes. He was covered in it. Pants, shirt, face, ears.
Stark pulled into the back of the Co-op and made sure everyone stayed there to give Linton enough time to head up the stairs in the alley and get cleaned up. Seeing Linton with all of that blood all over him would be too much for the kids. It was not his place to tell them what happened. He only needed to tell Sandra, who would be responsible for breaking the news to the kids. And she would be a total monster about it, he thought. But parents had the right to decide on matters such as this.
He wondered if Sandra would try to milk Bob’s life insurance dry before they could even pay for his burial. There was no one else to take care of those details for Bob, so it would likely fall on Linton to make his funeral arrangements.
“Sebastian, can you take you sister into the Co-op and get her some popcorn? You both need to eat. Dad’s orders,” Stark said.
“Dad’s okay!” Sebby replied enthusiastically.
Ellen rose from Burnley’s lap and smiled.
“Dad’s okay! HE’S OKAY!” Ellen yelled at him.
Stark knew that he’d fucked up. He couldn’t tell them that their dad had died, but he also couldn't lie to them and say he was going to be fine. He removed his jacket and held it in his hands, staring at the ground, trying to think of the right thing to say— something that wouldn’t break their hearts, but also wouldn’t give them false hope.
It was Burnley who read him loud and clear, and quickly released the hopeful smile on his face.
“WHERE’S MY DAD?!” Sebby yelled, and pushed Stark. He pushed him again. “WHERE IS HE?!” He kept backing Stark up with his surprisingly powerful pushes.
Jeff Stark did not know what to do, so he carefully and gently scooped Sebby in his arms.
Sebby fought him at first, but then gave up and cried into Stark’s chest for a few seconds before he ran out the back lot and into the front of the Co-op. Burnley followed Sebby with Ellen in his arms. He gave Stark a look as he walked away, thinking to himself, Nice job, screwup.
A moment later, Carolyn pulled into the back of the Co-op in her white ’70s model Ford F-150 pickup truck. Kelly and Lucy were riding with her. Kelly jumped out and approached Stark.
“How’s Bob? Is he okay?” Kelly asked.
Stark was still holding his jacket. He had about as much luck telling Kelly about Bob as he had trying to hide it from the kids.
Kelly stepped away from Stark and held her hands to her mouth in shock and sadness. She turned around to avoid facing him, and only Carolyn and Lucy saw her grief. Carolyn knew right away what had happened from the look on Kelly’s face, but Lucy still had not been told anything. She looked up to her for an explanation.
“What’s wrong with Momma? Is Win-ton okay?” Lucy asked Carolyn.
Carolyn picked her up.
“Linton is fine, sweetheart. Your Momma is sad about something else. She will tell us later, sugar,” Carolyn said. She gestured for Kelly to go up and be with Linton. She would take care of Lucy.
* * *
Linton let the shower run over his head in the small makeshift bathroom above the Co-op. The whole day seemed like it hadn’t happened. He still believed he was going to see Bob on Monday when he got back from Patoka with his kids. It still seemed likely that Bob was going to pull up to the Co-op with a whole mess of fish on a stringer, and that they were going to clean them and freeze them until next Friday, when they would have a fish fry out back with his kids. Kelly would be there with Lucy. Russ would be there, and so would Allen, Burnley and Alice.
They would put the fish fryer on Locust Street and close the street down, detouring traffic to Main. They would put hay bales on the street and let the kids jump from bale to bale. They would break out the soda fountain and Lilibaum’s would provide enough potato salad for half the town. They would get a cooler of beer and assign Stark to it, to make sure the teens didn’t swipe any and run off to the sinkholes.
The kids would run wild playing tag on the street, and later in the night they would play Marco Polo with blindfolds on. The adults would play lawn darts across the road in front of the old Co-op warehouse, which now housed Allen’s tractor that mowed the Bluff Trail. Marv Kramer would stop by with his deputies and hand out bronze-colored toy badges to all the kids, and they would run around shooting pretend zombies in the woods behind the warehouse.
The parents would then round them all up around 9 p.m. and everyone would go home and settle in for the night. The parents would wait for the children to go to sleep, and then make love in their upstairs rooms under moon visors that let the bright moonlight in.
All this and more seemed like it was going to happen, because Bob Stamps would have made sure of it. He would have made sure there were enough fish for everyone, and he would play tag with his kids all day. Linton himself would be in charge of dropping the fish basket in the deep fryer all evening long, while Kelly would keep the fish battered and ready for him. Lucy would be on the street drawing chalk pictures of crows and hawks flying over their rolling Hoosier hills.
Bob wasn’t dead. He was still at Patoka Lake with his kids. They were fishing and having a great time. Bob loved his kids and he loved his town. He would be back on Monday. Everything would be all right. He just needed to wait and see.
Linton snapped out of his denial when he saw the red swirls at the bottom of the shower, dancing in spirals around the drain before they went down. Linton kept forgetting not to look, and the shower kept pouring over his face and body, and the Bob Stamps’ blood just kept coming off. Jesus! Why does it take so long to get clean!?
Linton started scrubbing his body furiously with a soap bar, running his hands across his chest and ears, his face and legs. But the blood had dried on his skin and it caked off slowly, and Linton just could not rid himself of the image of Bob’s blood-soaked eyes as the life drained out of him.
(Take this and feed your animal)
Bobby wasn’t dead. He was waiting for Linton to come pick him up,
and they would head out to do some Halloween stuff that night. Just a little pumpkin smashing, or maybe a little tee-peeing and
(some of these folks are old, they have bad backs)
they were going to have fun.. Just him and his best buddy. Bobby was going to have a blast and he was going to find a great lady tonight after the game.
But the blood continued to swirl around the shower drain, and Linton could not scrub hard enough or fast enough to get it off.
“Linton?” Kelly said from behind the shower curtain.
Linton couldn’t answer. He was trying to hide all this blood — to erase the memory of Bob dying. If no one else thought he was dead, then he would never be dead. Linton scrubbed furiously.
Kelly drew the shower curtain open and saw his frantic scrubbing, trying to get clean. Linton continued to wash and didn’t acknowledge her. She knew he was in shock, and he needed her.
She slipped her shoes off and stepped into the shower with him, fully clothed, and grabbed his distraught head. He had a hard time snapping out of it, but when he finally stopped, he leaned his naked body against her and exhaled laborious breaths, his arms pulled into himself like he was freezing.
“I think — I’m not sure why I’m here right now, but this seems like the only thing I can do for the moment. I have to just, I think — I think —” Linton said.
Kelly gently rubbed the back of his head and lightly shushed him. Linton emerged from his confusion, and as reality washed over him, he leaned against Kelly. He embraced her tightly and grieved the loss of his best friend.
* * *
Taking a shower wasn’t exactly the soothing prospect that Sandra Stamps thought it would be. She had tried eating chips when she got home and had immediately vomited them back up. The next thing she thought of was getting the crusty vomit off her chest and relieving herself in some way.
But cleanliness was the last thing on her mind. She felt like she was starving, and even after she’d washed all the shit off, she still felt like she’d been hit by a truck. The last thing she wanted to do that night was go to a casino and wiggle her ass back and forth on some random rich guy while he howled and moaned. If she couldn’t eat anything, then she just wanted to sleep. Of course, her mother had taken the first shower after they’d arrived home, and Sandra was fairly certain she was asleep on the couch right about then. She had heard the phone ringing earlier and wondered who the hell would be calling her this early in the fucking morning. It was probably that little bitch Ellen, wanting me to come bail her out of a boring weekend with her father. Well, she had news for her and that was tough shit! It was her weekend without those two leeches.
Candy burst through the door.
“We have to go get Sebastian and Ellen. Apparently that worthless Bob Stamps got himself killed in a car crash,” Candy said.
That momentarily shocked Sandra. She even felt grief wash over her, but then her stomach started hurting again. The hunger pains were getting worse.
“What? I haven’t finished my shower yet, and I want to get some sleep.”
“Go ahead and finish. We’ll go get them on the way out of town.”
“No way! I need to sleep before we leave.”
“We’re leaving as soon as you get out of the shower. And don’t forget to pack them some pajamas to sleep in.”
“We can’t take them in the room with us!”
“We’ll figure something out when we get there. Just get your fucking shower over with already. I want to case the place out and have everything ready for tonight.”
“It’s a fucking riverboat casino, Mother. There’s a dockside hotel. What’s to case out?”
“I have video equipment a friend is going to loan us. We’re going to make this our last score of the year, baby. Now hurry the fuck up!”
* * *
The day was cold and the sun was barely shining in through the overcast sky. Any other time, this would be an ideal day to stay in. Noah and Joe both sat in Noah’s upstairs bedroom, scared out of their wits. They needed to speak with Chief Derr.
“So what’s the plan now, huh?” Noah asked nervously.
“I’m not sure. We can’t tell your mom and we obviously can’t leave the house. But I do have to go check on my mom and stepdad,” Joe said.
Noah walked to his desk and pulled out some walkie-talkies.
“Just in case we need them for something. Not saying we will, but just in case.”
“Why don’t we just call the Boss?”
“Yeah, we could, I guess. But I have to make sure that my parents aren’t around the phone.”
The only phones in the house were in the kitchen and his parent’s room, so calling anyone always risked someone hearing them.
“We could always go to my house.”
Noah’s door opened and his mother walked in.
“Joe, your mom’s on the phone,” she said.
Joe and Noah hopped up and ran downstairs. Joe’s mother was always a little protective of him and Noah thought that had a lot to do with the possibility of Siders running off with him.
Joe picked up the phone.
“Hello?” Joe said.
“Joe, baby. This is you mother. We aren’t feeling very well today and I think we have the bug that’s going around,” she said.
“You okay, Mom?”
“Yeah, we just need to rest and get some food in us. We’re both really hungry, but we can’t keep anything down. Some sort of fog got in the house last night and it made us really sick. Your dad opened the windows and cleared it out, but it had already gotten hold of us.”
“Do you want me to go and get you some food? I can leave it outside the door for you and you can get it whenever you want.”
“Well, I might have you do that later, baby. But for now, I’m going to try this soup and then go back to bed. I already spoke with Margie and she said you could stay there until we feel better. Just don’t come over here. I don’t want you to get it, too.”
“Okay, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. Bye, now.”
“Bye.”
Joe hung up the phone, unaware that was the last time he would ever speak to his mother.
“How’s she doing?” Noah asked.
“Huh?”
“How’s your mom? My mom told me she was sick.”
“I guess she’s doing okay. She sounded sick. I’ve never actually seen her sick before. But I think she just always played like she wasn’t.”
“I’m sure she’ll be okay. This is just a flu. You’ll see. It’ll be completely gone in a week.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
***
8
Shane Duncan Siders had been wandering for half the night. After he dropped that body off in the mine tunnel, he had seen the mess made of the entrance. Someone had been there and had left while he was inside. The utility cabinets had been broken open and there was random crap scattered on the floor.
When he left the tunnel, he saw that whoever was there had left, too. The opening had been leaking that rancid water in. Whoever it was must have left in a hurry, because it had been sealed when Shane came in, to make sure that water didn’t get in from the sinkhole. But they had scurried through the exit, which left just enough of the sealed barrier leaking a small stream into the tunnel. They probably also saw him pulling that little bitch’s body through the shaft.
It wasn’t likely to be any of the adults. They would have confronted him. So that left those teenagers and those wandering boys, one of which was his son, or so he believed.
It didn’t matter either way. He was going to tie up loose ends, and he was going to start with the Jeffries up on the plateau.
Dead men keep the best secrets.
He wasn’t worried about the situation, but the last thing he wanted was that do-gooder cop chasing him across the county or even down the river. He would have been out of his jurisdiction anyway, so he would alert the state boys in Indiana and Kentucky both. S
hane would have to scurry all the way down to Cairo, Illinois just to make a break for it.
So why go through all the trouble?
He got all the information he needed when he stared those boys down. They had been there, watching him. The look on their faces when they saw him was enough to tell him that. They also hadn’t gone to the Chief yet, or else Siders would’ve either been in cuffs or cruising down the Ohio.
They weren’t going anywhere with all these idiots running around in the street. He saw what happened to them last night when he was scoping out the Co-op. This town had been bitten by the teeth of the Ohio and now they were all gonna suffer.
Sure, they’ll live, but they aren’t going to be playing basketball anytime soon.
Fucking Indiana! These fucks and their basketball. What the fuck is so special about that fucking game anyway? As his pops used to say, ‘There aint’t no niggers in that state worth a shit.’ So all these white do-gooders scurry up and down the court like privileged assholes, proud of a sport they can’t even play well!
One thing he missed about his old man were those crude cracks at the expense of the underprivileged. He was an equal-opportunity hater when it came to that. They were always poor as shit and when they ripped off rich assholes, nothing really came of it. They nickeled and dimed those assholes who had thousands in the bank. Steal a boat here, maybe a car every once in awhile, then come back and they weren’t suffering. They filled out a police report while tracking along in their caddy to the ninth hole on the golf course. What did they care, those fucking assholes?
Shane needed people to suffer. He needed to see them suffer. His old man, he could have cared less who suffered. He just wanted to make bank. That was one of things Shane hated about him. He took no pride in his work. He didn’t take the time to stand back and admire what he had done. He just took the loot and he was off.