by Law, Adriana
“This shit ain’t fresh,” Clay remarked. “Most of these bodies have been out here a while. Otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to stomach the smell. Cool weather helps.”
“What makes you an expert?” Brooke asked.
“My parents had a cow that died. We didn’t find it for a week until the smell lead us to it. She had gotten snagged in barbed wire up in the woods. You ain’t smelled disgusting until you smelled something decaying. No other smell like it.”
“Think I’ll pass,” I told Clay. All I wanted was to get out of here. What if live dogs showed up? Wild dogs.
“I know what this is...” David muttered.
“What?” asked Brooke.
“Graveyard. Animals do this. My father knew a guy whose cows would go into a gully when it was time to die. Weird, I know. But they would gather in this one place, this gully, and just give up right there on the spot. The guy told my dad that bones would pile up. Like this.”
“I think I saw a documentary like that once, but it was elephants not cows,” Clay told us. “Old elephants doing the same thing. It’s instinctive. They take this long journey and won’t die until they reach their destination.”
“So this is a dog graveyard,” I said. How sad. The buff color was fur. German Shepherd fur, boxer, pit bull, Labrador, beagle. So many dog remains I couldn’t count them all.
“Personally,” Brooke said, clearing her throat. “I think somebody slaughtered these dogs. And whoever is capable of slaughtering dogs like this is capable of slaughtering anything. I think we should get the hell out of here.”
Who would do such a hideous thing? Kill dogs, then dump them like trash? Same ones that left puppies in trash bags on the side of the interstate. It would take a cruel and heartless person with no conscience. I might not trust dogs, but I didn’t hate them. I respected that they were living things that could feel pain and abandonment. That they could suffer same as any person from being unwanted, abused, forgotten.
Slaughtered dogs. Slaughtered dogs. Slaughtered dogs. Slaughtered dogs! I reached out to a tree for support. I was dizzy. A wet, sticky sheen covered my flesh. Wow. It suddenly get hot? Dead dogs. Dead dog bones in a pile. I exhaled in one, long exasperated sigh and inhaled getting a full lung full of the funky smell. I tugged at the neck of my shirt to catch the breeze, anything to help ease the suddenly sour-feeling in my belly. Even my spit felt like it went nowhere, just sat like a huge lump at the base of my throat.
Brooke was right there with me. “Smell that?” she whispered in my ear. “That’s the smell of death, Millipede. Rotting flesh, maggots, buzzard shit.”
Taking hold of my chin, she forced my gaze toward the carcasses. Her fingers gripped tightly, almost painfully. My eyes slid to hers.
“Notice anything strange?” Brooke asked.
A sound came from the back of my throat, but it was no kind of answer.
“Take another look. The dogs’ ears and eyes are missing. See that?” My stomach heaved. “I bet whoever did this cut their eyeballs right out of the sockets. Bet those fur hides are stiff and crunchy. Homemade beef jerky.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth.
“Makes you feel sick, doesn’t it? Just think of blood and guts everywhere, soaking into the ground. Hell, I bet there’s blood and guts where you’re standing.”
“Brooke, get your hands off her.” Clay had moved around to the far side of the graveyard and was watching us.
Brooke dropped my chin like it was hot lava and stepped away from me. “Just trying to help,” she told him.
“Looks to me like you’re being a bitch.”
I pushed myself from the tree and stumbled as far as I could from Brooke. All the while, I kept my eyes on the graveyard. As horrible as it was, I couldn’t look away. I noticed the missing eyeballs and ears. I noticed more. There were deer carcasses and other animals: raccoon, possum. There was a tree sapling jutting from the fractured socket of a skull.
“Mill, look at this,” Clay said. “Does this look like teeth marks to you?”
I joined Clay, but before I offered an opinion about what appeared to be exactly what he said, teeth marks etched into a fallen tree, Brooke attacked:
“Why the hell are you asking her? She doesn’t know anything about teeth marks. Look at her,” she jabbed a finger in my direction. “She can’t even dress herself. Do you even know how to put on makeup, Millie? And it’s called a comb, maybe you should try using one. Being born with red, stringy hair is no excuse to stop trying.”
No, I answered Brooke in my head. I never had a mother sober enough to show me how to put on makeup. But I didn’t tell her this.
Last thing I wanted from anyone, especially Clay, was pity. His eyes narrowed on Brooke. “That’s about all you know, how to dress and comb your hair.”
“Oh, I think I know about a few other things.” Brooke winked at Clay.
I didn’t want to imagine what she meant. Clay turned his head toward me, as if to apologize for her behavior, silently and from a distance, but he looked elsewhere, beside me. I turned quickly, thinking of dogs, my heart racing. It was Emily. Behind Emily was Evie.
Emily made her way over to the far side of the graveyard to stand next to Clay. Evie wrapped her arms around my waist. She was staring at the animal remains. She didn’t have to say it; I knew seeing all the bones made her sad. She loved animals, always wanted a dog but Momma would never let her have one. Said they were too much trouble. Fleas would get in the house. She neglected to notice we were already infested by cockroaches, Frank being one.
“Don’t you know Brooke is the authority when it comes to bones?” David said.
“I swear to God if you don’t stop,” Emily warned. “You’re done. I’m never going to touch you again.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
David must not have believed her. He pulled a femur from the pile and stuck one end of the long bone at his crotch and the other in the air. It was an erect penis. Funny. “Hey Brooke, what do you think about my boner?”
Evie looked up at me for clarification. “What’s a boner?”
I shook my head. “I’ll explain later.” Someday. Maybe.
“Call off your friend,” Brooke told Clay.
“I’ve got no control over his behavior.” His lip twitched with suppressed laughter. “He’s free to make an ass of himself anyway he sees fit.”
“David, if you don’t stop it, I swear….” Emily looked like she was about to cry.
David picked up a skull and stuck the far end of the femur into the gaping hole of the opened jaw. The teeth opened and closed, chomping humorlessly at the end of his femur, like it was giving his fake penis head. “Oh Brookie, I didn’t know you felt this way,” he moaned. “I thought only Jaws could move that fast.” He rolled his eyes back in his head, groaning out, “Faster, harder…hang on there...less teeth, please.” He held the skull toward Brooke. “Hey there, help me out, work the jaw, will ya?”
“I hate you.” Brooke threw a vertebra at him, hitting him in the back.
“No,” David replied. “You love me. You just don’t know it yet.”
A flush crept across her cheeks. “Whatever, keep dreaming.”
Brooke stabbed one of the carcasses with a stick, stirring up a pile of squirming maggots. She stretched out an arm, pointing, “What is that, Mill, a kidney? A bloated stomach? Ew. Look at it. Kind of looks like your leaky potato.”
She inched closer to the mass of dead flesh and bent over it, no doubt trying to find something else to taunt me about. All I could focus on was her rear-end and its vulnerable state. If I was a little braver, I’d walk right over there and kick her in the ass.
As if reading my mind, David crept up behind her and nudged her bottom. She lost her balance, squealed and fell forward. A hand landed solidly in the pile of maggots, and then sunk. It sunk deeper in the maggot goo, a wave of wiggling white rice piling in on the top.
We didn’t laugh at first. But then Brooke
freaked, falling backward away from the pile of dead flesh, slinging maggots off her hand and the sleeve of her jacket.
“There’s one on your back!” David helped out. “Ah, shit, they’re all over your shirt.”
“What! Where? Get it off! Oh my God, oh my God, it smells, get it off!” she screamed, and then she doubled over and puked.
David went into hysterics. It served Brooke right. I only wish she would have landed face first.
Brooke got to her feet and started toward David, her hand in the air. “How am I going to wipe this shit off?”
“I love you Brooke, but I’m no napkin.” He ran, dodging her. Playfully evasive. “Get your stink away from me,” he went on between belly laughs.
“Just use leaves,” Clay snapped. “It’s not going to kill you.”
“Easy for you to say! There're all kinds of bacteria in that shit!”
Clay’s jaw clenched. His expression went stony. “Will you two grow up? This isn’t playtime.”
Watching Brooke and David running around the woods, you would think Clay was dead wrong. But I was getting as tired of their behavior as he obviously was. None of it was fun. I just wanted to get out of there.
“I suggest we go back the way we came in and wait with the truck.” He didn’t wait for any of us to answer. He started back along the narrow path toward the logging road.
“Are we going home now?” Evie asked me in a whisper.
“I don’t know what we’re doing. Going back to the truck, I guess.” It was starting to feel like we were walking in circles. I just wanted someone to make a decision and stick to it.
Brooke wiped her hands over her jeans. “You scared, Emerson? Never thought I’d see the day,” she called out after him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Clay lit another cigarette and kept walking.
“You are scared.” Brooke laughed at him. “What is it you think these people might do to us?”
Clay stopped when he got to the road and spun to face Brooke, to face all of us. “I’m not afraid, I just know when to not push it,” he told her. Then his attention was on the rest of the group. “It’s posted. Private property. Means we’re trespassing. People up here don’t take that shit lightly. I know.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Walking onto someone’s property unannounced isn’t the way it works in the mountains.” Clay looked directly at me and Evie. “Trust me,” he said.
“Come on, Clay. We go back to the truck, we’re sleeping there all night. Personally, I’ve got better things to do,” David urged.
“No,” Clay said. “Right there is a good way to get yourself shot.” His eyes focused on Evie. “I’m not willing to take that chance. Forget the truck. I say we walk out to the main road and wait. Somebody will come along.”
“Eventually. Maybe. Have some balls, man,” returned David. “Hell, I’m looking forward to seeing what’s in that old house.”
“I agree with Clay,” Emily said. She clutched her button up jacket, closing the front of it and hugging herself, keeping away the cold. “This is a scary movie waiting to happen. I don’t want to be one of those red shirts who does something stupid and gets everyone killed.”
“Great, Em, can I have a little support here? Do you really believe Jason is going to come charging out of the woods?” David rolled his eyes.
“This just don’t feel right,” Clay said.
“It’s not like we’re doing anything criminal. We’re going to politely tap...” David demonstrated by knocking on an imaginary front door “...and ask to use the phone. No big deal.”
Emily shook her head. “I have a bad feeling—”
“Babe, relax. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Emily’s hands went to her hips. “You can’t leave Brooke alone long enough to pay attention to what’s going on. You’re too busy flirting.”
“Wait. Flirting?” David laughed. “Are you jealous of Ms. Platinum?”
“No.” Emily’s chin came up; her cheeks were splashed with pink. “I’m just tired of your immaturity. Clay is the only rational person here. He’s the only one who acts like an adult and thinks things through before he acts. Why don’t we do what he says for a change, see how that goes?”
“I don’t think I like this.” David looked at Clay. “Why is my girl siding with you?”
Clay shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands in defense. His eyes were laughing. “Don’t blame me. I got nothing to do with the trouble you bring on yourself.”
“Well how about agreeing with me for a change. Stop making me look bad in front of everyone.”
“You make yourself look bad,” Brooke said.
“Shut up. Nobody asked you,” David snapped. “The bleach has done entered your brain and caused serious damage.” David stepped toward Clay and shoved him in the chest.
Clay stumbled backward. We moved to the side, giving them room. I didn’t like that they reminded me of Momma’s men. Men who could not tolerate another of their same gender coming near their claim. Evie and I were easy to push around. Easy to dominate and direct. Sometimes I wanted to get bitchy but I knew better after I got back-handed across the mouth by one of Momma’s first boyfriends. He told me to, “watch my smart mouth.” After that, I held my tongue, even with Frank.
Evie tilted her head back. “Are they really mad at each other?”
“I don’t know. Appears that way.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, Evie.” There was annoyance in my tone. “They’re guys. They never make sense. It’s in their DNA.”
“Why don’t you take a breather and calm down,” Clay told David.
“I don’t need a breather.” David planted his hands again in the center of Clay’s chest.
“Dude, you need to stop.”
“Hell no, bring it.”
“Push me again,” Clay said from between clenched teeth, “and you’re going to really piss me off.”
“Good. You need to get pissed off. Maybe you’ll stop acting like a whiny little bitch.”
“Nobody can help the fact you’re a screw up.”
David looked as if he’d been slapped. “What did you call me? You think you’re so damn cool, got an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“Not my problem you don’t measure up.”
David charged, grabbing Clay and bending him over, his arm around Clay’s neck in a choke hold. A cloud of dust rose from the road. Boots tore at the gravel.
“We’ll settle this now. See who’s the tough guy. It sure as hell ain’t you, big guy,” David told Clay. “I can whip your ass any day of the week.”
“Oh yeah?” Clay’s face was bright red. He squirmed in the choke hold, ducked, and then reversed it. “Don’t think so.” He tightened his hold around David's neck, leading him around. “You gonna stop all the bullshit?”
“Kiss my a—” David’s foot stomped the dirt as Clay tightened his hold, effectively shutting his opponent up.
“What? You tapping out?” Clay turned an ear close to David's mouth. “What did you say? Can’t understand you. You having trouble breathing, huh? Want me to let go? Then say you’re sorry.”
David apparently did not say the right thing in response because they continued to move around trying to kill each other, nearly knocking Evie and I off the side of the road. I thought they were dead serious until they burst into laughter.
Clay went into a coughing fit.
David slapped a hand on his rounded back. “It’s probably some weird old guy living in that house who smells like body odor and collects roadkill. Trust me on this one. We’re okay. Hell, he'll probably love some company."
Clay straightened up, pulled out a cigarette, and popped it between his lips. He didn’t light it; instead he talked around the filter. “Okay. Sun goes down around eight o’clock, right? That means it’s going to get dark real fast. I say we go knock on that door, ask politely to use the damn phone, call the nearest person we can think of to c
ome pick us up and get the hell out of here. Agreed? We’ll worry about the truck tomorrow.”
“It’s not like it’s a busy road with lots of houses,” Evie said suddenly. I think her speaking startled everyone. She looked up at David. “That pile of bones wasn’t road kill.”
Clay laughed and shook his head. “Kid, you are hilarious.”
Evie’s hands went to her hips. “I’m not a kid! I have more intelligence than you do. Case in point, the smoking.” She nodded at the cigarette. “Only a dumbass would smoke.”
“Evie! Enough of that,” I scolded, first for the insult, second for the cursing.
Emily snorted. “Oh my God, I like her.”
Clay reached an arm around Evie and pulled her toward him. “Come here, kid.” He put her in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles against her skull.
“Hey, stop it,” she whined, pulling away from him.
“Your little sister’s got a sassy mouth doesn’t she?”
“You messed my hair,” Evie told him, running her fingers through it, trying to get it to lay straight.
“Let’s go make this call and get this kid back home where she belongs,” Clay told me.
I was stunned beyond words. Evelyn Hope Reid had become one of the pack. Without even trying.
***
We followed the dirt logging road down to the house with the smoke.
Always the keeper of conversation when there was none, David told us a story. “When my grandpa died, the sucker held on to life, refusing to let go.”
“But you just said he died.” Brooke rolled her eyes. “Did he die or hold on, can’t be both?”
“Man, you are a heartless bitch. You didn’t even let me finish.”
“Oh God, here it comes, Jacob’s wisdom.”
“The doctors,” David continued, “told my dad it wouldn’t be long. He called the whole family in. We waited. I hated sitting there just watching grandpa, my dad all hunched over, his eyes red from crying. It was the worst experience of my life. The nurses would come into the room and tell us, “soon.” Grandpa, he wouldn’t give up, he just kept holding on to life even though he was in a lot of pain. Lung cancer. It was all he could do to take a breath. One nurse told us people never go when they’re in pain.”