by Remember Me
Still, something bothers me, and I don’t know what it is...”
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 195
Chapter Twelve
Margaret awoke from a long night’s sleep feeling refreshed, but at the same time
unsettled. Her dreams had again consumed her while she rested, and they ran together, making
little sense.
She dreamt of her father, though she had given him little thought over the past few
weeks. At first, she had held him accountable for her mother’s actions as well, but upon meeting
Heather, he feelings had shifted. Heather was a strong willed woman, and Margaret felt that she
could stand up for herself.
She felt judgmental for blaming Heather directly, realizing she knew little about the
circumstances surrounding the abortion. In her own opinion, she had always hated when people
blamed the mother for the abortion. It took two to create a child, and both had a responsibility. It
had always seemed so hypocritical to find fault with the mother, since it was her choice.
Margaret had never felt it fair for the male to retain the right to give a woman that choice, and
her views were always moderate because of this, but that was before it was her life that the
argument was about.
Other things bothered Margaret this morning as well. There was something that didn’t sit
well with her, though she couldn’t place a finger on it. As she got out of bed and started her
morning routine, she couldn’t get beyond the overwhelming feeling that she had forgotten
something.
An hour later, her senses still rattled, she left the house to see Carol. She needed to get
out. With her aunt at a friend’s house, and her uncle away, she was losing her mind all alone. She
took off in a rush for town, deciding she would pick up Carol and go take some pictures of the
countryside.
Margaret pulled off the long and winding road and sped up as she merged to the highway.
While she accelerated, she tried to clear her thoughts, but it didn’t work. As she drove down the
road, her mind in another world, she suddenly recognized the mini van that passed her going the
other direction. She jerked her head instinctively, and confirmed her surprise as she watched
Heather driving out of town. Margaret continued for a few more seconds before she remembered
that Heather had a breakfast date with some woman she had talked with the previous day. That’s
when the whole situation struck her as rather odd.
The roads were quite barren as she slowed and turned her car around in the opposite
direction. It took a few minutes driving down the windy road through the hilly terrain before she
caught a glimpse of the van ahead of her. She was careful to keep her distance as she followed,
her interest in Heather’s trip growing intensely as she studied the area.
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 196
There was one other car between her and Heather’s van. She could see Heather alone this
morning, and knew that something strange was up. She turned the radio down a bit, trying to
concentrate on not making it obvious that she had followed the van. Heather didn’t appear to
notice.
About twenty miles down the highway, the van pulled off onto a dirt road. Margaret
decided to stay on the highway, driving about a half mile down the road before pulling over and
doubling back. She hoped that she hadn’t lost Heather by continuing on, but didn’t want to seem
obvious.
Margaret drove up the dirt road, past an old deserted cemetery. A sign on the side of the
road indicated that there was a large campsite at the end, and the condition of the road told her it
was infrequently traveled.
Margaret followed the dirt road up a small canyon for about three miles before reaching
the campsite. The trees grew denser as she neared the camp. The campsite had several small
roads breaking off the main road that Heather had driven in on, and each led up through the trees,
making it hard to see if anyone was present at the different sites.
Each of the roads connected to one another through a large, main loop, so Margaret
continued to an empty site, and found a spot to pull off into the trees where she wouldn’t appear
obvious. She shut off the car and walked back to the main entrance of the campsite, where a map
of the entire camp was posted on a bulletin board.
Each of the campsites broke outside the large central loop which rejoined the main road.
Heather hadn’t come out yet, and since the road leading in was also the road leading out, this was
the only place she could be. Margaret felt sure of this.
Margaret returned to the car and picked up a duffel bag which she had sitting on the seat.
She stepped out of the car and started up into the trees where she could use the cover to hide in.
Margaret paralleled the road leading through the site as she hiked through the trees. The place
seemed desolate, even for the middle of the week. She had covered over half of the camp without
seeing a single person when she came across the small tent far away from the road.
Margaret pulled out her camera and extended zoom lens from her duffel bag, kneeling
down so that she could see beneath the canopy of pines in the forest. She looked over towards
the road, trying to identify the car of the tent’s owner. The old Camaro didn’t look at all familiar
to Margaret, and so she passed it by as a lone camper.
Margaret continued on her journey for several hundred more yards before coming to the
next site. Here she found something which puzzled her. The van which Heather drove sat parked
in the stall of the site, but Heather was nowhere around it.
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 197
Margaret surveyed the area cautiously with the lenses. If Heather was anywhere in the
camp, it was far away from the van. Margaret followed the road down to the next campsite, but
found it unoccupied as well. Then something occurred to her and she hurried back to the van.
Margaret reached the van and slowly snuck up to where she could see inside. She looked
around again before she approached it, remaining extremely cautious, and peeked inside the van
through the windows.
Inside, Margaret found something even more peculiar. A blouse and skirt lay on the back
seat of the van, next to a small sack which sat opened. Heather had emptied the sack of its
contents, and locked the doors of the van.
Margaret quickly left the van and returned in the direction of the tent she had passed by
earlier. As she neared the shelter, she moved extremely slowly and quietly. She was about thirty
yards from the structure when she heard voices from inside the tent.
Margaret found a safe, secluded spot behind a tree and sat down to catch her breath and
listen to the voices. The sounds were playful giggling and she immediately recognized Heather’s
voice as one of the two inside. She listened for some time to the conversation inside before the
talk ended and she heard a rustling from inside. Then she knew she realized that she had been
fooled.
Margaret circled the tent from about forty yards, using the trees for cover. She reached a
point where she could finally see inside the tent through the screen door,
and pulled the camera
back out of her bag so she could get a better look.
The scene inside the tent seemed uninhibited. It became apparent immediately that this
occurred more than once before. The couple moved together with some familiarity. She watched
the naked bodies rolling around on the blankets inside the dome tent for a moment. The sight
seemed odd, as it would for anyone the first time they caught their parents having sex. Still, these
were the parents, who until a month ago, Margaret had never known, which made it seem even
stranger.
They had cleared the tent of all other articles. Only the heavy blankets lying on the floor
inside cushioned the hard ground. Margaret surveyed the area outside the tent and noticed
numerous clothes scattered around just outside the structure. Wild thoughts of sinister doings
filled Margaret’s head and the opportunity grew too much for her.
Margaret could see that the door of the tent provided the only view out of it. She left the
bag beneath the tree where she sat, and quickly circled around the tent to the back.
Margaret approached the structure quietly and slowly. The moans inside the tent had
increased to a point where they were almost screams. Margaret walked around the structure, first
from one side, carefully staying out of the view of the door. She picked up all the articles of
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 198
clothing that she could, and then walked back around the tent, to the other side, where she picked
up the rest of the garments.
Margaret could tell from the sounds of the commotion inside that things had heated up.
She quickly ran from the tent, back to the protection of the trees, using the loud moans to cover
the sound of her feet on the forest floor.
She reached her duffel bag with the clothes in hand and threw them behind the cover of
the tree. Margaret then reached into the bag, and pulled out the camera again, this time checking
the film and settings.
Margaret pulled off the lens cap, and sprawled out across the forest floor, so she could
keep steady. She felt amazed at how little of the zoom she had to use to get a good picture at this
distance. She flipped on the date and time light on the camera, making sure the exact time would
get recorded on each shot, and began taking pictures of the scene inside.
Margaret had about thirty-six exposures on the role of film, and used up twelve of them
getting perfectly revealing shots in under a few minutes. Even from this distance, she could hear
the screams from the structure as the pair neared an end, and she decided she needed to start
heading back to her car.
Margaret went through the clothes she had snatched off the ground, and pulled out the
wallets and keys. She then buried the clothes in a ball behind the tree where she sat, and covered
them with vegetation from the forest floor.
With the camera still in hand, Margaret ran back towards the old Camaro on the road, she
ran farther away until she felt she had reached a safe distance. She found a large pine with a low
canopy to hide her silhouette and sat back down with the camera. There she used the power of
the zoom to get another clear shot of the tent.
Margaret waited patiently for the occupants of the tent to realize their clothes were
missing, and in a few minutes, the two emerged from the structure. Margaret immediately began
taking shots of the two naked people walking around the tent in a state of confusion. She knew
she had to keep quiet, but had a hard time holding back her laughter as she watched.
Satisfied with the revealing nature and unmistakable clarity of the shots, she decided to
get away before the couple realized that someone had stolen the clothes. She threw the bag back
over her shoulder, and jumped up from beneath the tree where she hid, running towards her car.
She knew that the couple could not see her as she ran down the dirt road, judging by the
distance between the road and the tent. Still, her adrenalin was rushing, and she ran quickly to
her car, hardly able to contain her excitement. Margaret set the contents of the couples’ pockets
down on the hood of Heather’s van as she ran past it, and didn’t break her stride until she
reached her own vehicle.
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 199
Margaret set the camera down on the seat of her car and quickly started it up. She pulled
out of the stall and left the campsite to the main road leading out. She breathed a sigh of relief as
she passed the last entrance to the campsite and looked back in her mirror to make sure nobody
had followed her.
She reached the highway about six minutes later and pulled out onto the paved road. By
now, the couple had probably gained the courage to walk to the van and found the keys sitting
there. They would have to sacrifice the change of clothes they had brought for their morning of
romance, as Margaret was sure they would never find them. She knew this was no great loss, but
it had set up some undeniable shots.
Margaret only hoped that she would see Heather some time later in the day. She wanted
to see the panic on the woman’s face, and the way she handled herself when she realized
somebody knew about the affair, but Margaret had done one better. She had caught the look on
their faces as they realized that she was caught, and that meant everything to Margaret.
Everything was on film.
Margaret returned home early in the afternoon. Her aunt had gone into town for some
groceries, leaving the house vacant. She knew the time was perfect to sit down and explain her
feelings to her journal.
“...I can’t believe how some people will go out of their way to complicate their lives.
Nothing I’ve learned since I’ve been here has ceased to amaze me. The town’s most famous
couple just so happens to be the town’s most promiscuous couple. All I did was allow myself to
become another chapter in their book of lies.
Ever since I got here, I’ve tried to find a way to get even with Heather. I feel so ashamed
at how low I have sunk to fulfill my desire. I tried to sink beneath her, and perform as vile of
deeds as she has, just to make her see things for what they are, but now I find out that I didn’t
sink far enough.
I won’t allow that to happen to me again. My ride back from the camp where I caught her
with my real father, made me realize that I didn’t achieve anything by embarrassing Todd in that
way. I now realize that in trying to become worse than her, all I did was brought myself down to
her level. It would take someone like Heather to destroy Heather. I don’t want to be like Heather.
After finding Jeremy in the woods, I decided I would start acting on my impulses more
often. I guess that’s what I did with Todd. I wanted so badly to destroy him, that I didn’t see
what I had become in the process. I acted on a sick momentary desire for revenge, and I’ll have
to live with that reality for the rest of my life.
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 200
Something has to be done soon. The more time I spend around these people, the lower I
find myself sinking. A month ago, I never would have dreamed of such a hideous act. Yet, I
/>
didn’t think twice when it came to getting some revenge on Todd. I need to finish the business I
set out to do and then separate myself from these people.
The two of them have cast a vision of complete falsehood about their actions. I can’t
believe that people around here buy into the whole charade. It’s just too obvious to anyone who
dares to look deeper into what’s going on around here.
I feel almost grateful that my mother decided she didn’t want me. I don’t think I would
like her very much as a parent, and I would have missed out on the wonderful family that did
raise me. It sounds incomprehensible to think, but I believe I got the better end of the bargain the
way things turned out.
Still, I can’t let her actions go unanswered. I think about the two others whom she tossed
away. I want to make Heather’s life a living hell. Her entire existence seems based upon the
satisfaction she receives from being looked upon so highly by all her peers. She thrives on her
popularity, almost like a homecoming queen who never wants to step off the float in the parade.
That’s how I will destroy her.
I’ll let everyone know the truth about her hidden life. I will end the existence that she
now knows. I’ll show the entire town the truth behind her charade. I’ll give them all the proof
they need to believe all the terrible things about her. Then, when things start calming down, and
her whole life is in shambles, I’ll show them all the rest of the pictures.
I want the world to see the pictures of the child she aborted, and the documentation to
prove that it isn’t some big hoax. Maybe my father doesn’t want the world to know about the
little experiment he was involved in almost eighteen years ago, but I think the world deserves to
know. I’m ashamed of my real mother, and I want the world to know.
I have learned one thing in particular about Heather. She isn’t afraid of anything. It
appears that she thinks her actions are excusable because of her social status. I hate that attitude.
I hate it in lawyers, in politicians, and in the local snob.
I want her to see her actions come back to haunt her. People need to learn to take more
responsibility for their actions, like the fathers who refuse to pay child support for their own
children, to women who use abortions as a means of birth control. I feel they are all wretched