Book Read Free

Brett Barney - Remember Me.txt

Page 34

by Remember Me


  abuses of power. I feel like it’s just another form of child abuse, hurting those incapable of

  standing up for themselves.

  Maybe it’s just my point of view, because I should be just another child who was tossed

  away after the abortion, but in the past few weeks, my feelings towards these people have grown

  into a rage. Holding these feelings inside me has changed who I am, and severely blinded my

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 201

  judgment. I must stop sitting idly by, waiting for something to happen on its own. This afternoon

  on my way home I was rather unclear on what I would do next. Now I know...”

  Margaret spent much of the next day riding the horses on the ranch. When she finally

  went into town, she found Carol sitting by her familiar tree in the park. From a distance, the girl

  looked wrapped up in what she read. Margaret could tell by the look on her face that something

  had upset her, and wanted to help the girl. She knew Carol just needed a friend right now, but

  didn’t know what had happened.

  Margaret walked over to where the girl sat, and slowly sat down on the grass in front of

  her. Carol didn’t even look up from the several sheets of paper which she read.

  The grass felt cool where the two girls sat in the shade. A slight breeze had blown most

  of the day and helped keep the blistering heat down to a minimum. The blades of grass poked

  into the bare skin of her legs. She slid her legs out beneath the shade of the trees to soak up some

  of the sun on her skin.

  Carol wore shorts also. During the warm summers in Harrison, most of the people their

  age wore comfortable clothes and lazed around like these two girls. Margaret looked around and

  noticed that they were the only inhabitants of the park at this hot hour of the day.

  “What’s the matter, Carol?” Margaret asked, noticing the tears which the girl tried to

  hide.

  “It’s my mother.”

  “What about her?” Margaret asked, almost not wanting to hear anything more about

  Heather.

  “She’s making me go on this stupid campout to the mountains tomorrow.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Margaret asked sincerely. “I love the mountains. It’s great to

  get out into the fresh air. There’s hardly anyone around and you feel like you have the whole

  world to yourself. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go.”

  “I love getting out in the mountains,” answered Carol. “My mom and I go with several

  other mothers and their daughters all the time in the summer. She calls it the girls’ weekend to go

  up in the mountain and act like men.”

  “So where’s the problem?”

  “This trip was completely unplanned,” Carol uttered in disgust. “She called up the other

  mothers and set it up a few days ago. The only reason she did was because my boyfriend is going

  to be in town on those days. She doesn’t want me to see him because she thinks we’re too

  serious. So she’s dragging me up into the hills where he can’t get to me.”

  “Maybe she just decided this would be a good time to go?”

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 202

  “She had to cancel her bridge group this week and we had already planned to go next

  weekend. She specifically moved it up to make sure I couldn’t see him.”

  “You have a point there,” Margaret agreed. “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’ll figure a way out of it,” Carol spoke with determination.

  “I don’t want to butt in and try to tell you how to run your life,” began Margaret

  hesitantly. “I don’t know how close your boyfriend and you are exactly.”

  “We’re close. My mom knows how close we are. That’s why she’s hauling me off into

  the mountains.”

  “Well, if you and your boyfriend are so close, he’s probably willing to do just about

  anything you would ask him, right?”

  “Sure he would,” Carol uttered confidently.

  “Well then,” Margaret suggested. “It would seem like the most logical approach would

  be to have him meet you in the mountains.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you and the rest of the girls always camp at the same spot?”

  “Sure, it’s our special spot.”

  “Then you could explain to your boyfriend how to get up there, right?” Margaret asked.

  “Sure,” answered Carol, beginning to smile as she realized what Margaret suggested.

  “So you get up there, and your mom relaxes because she thinks she has you safely hidden

  from him. Then during the night, you sneak out from your tent, and meet your boyfriend a short

  walk away from the camp. Mom never suspects a thing, and you please everyone.”

  “That sounds so romantic,” Carol uttered as she closed her eyes to allow her thoughts to

  wander. “It’s just like medieval times. I’ll be the princess trapped by the evil mother, and I’ll

  have to sneak off to be with my prince. We’d meet under the moonlight. It sounds so perfect, but

  it will never work.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Margaret, confused.

  “My mom’s a light sleeper. She hears everything. I could never leave the tent without her

  knowing. Even when we’re up there and I have to slip out to go to the bathroom, she wakes up,

  no matter how hard I try to keep quiet.”

  Margaret sat for several seconds in deep thought. The sound of the mountains captivated

  her attention. She began to envy the young girl. Then a new idea struck her.

  “What if you told your mom you were going off on a midnight hike with one of the other

  girls. She ought to let you go then.”

  “Sure she would, but it wouldn’t happen. They’re all too young and naive. They couldn’t

  lie if their lives depended on it. They’re too virtuous and pure to take part in something that my

  mom didn’t approve of beforehand. None of them would ever go for it.”

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 203

  “The girls around here are a lot different than where I come from. Where I come from,

  we’d do anything for a friend if she asked. Too bad you don’t have any of my friends going with

  you up there.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” interrupted Carol excitedly. “You like the mountains. Why don’t

  you come up there with us?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. Your mom didn’t invite me. I can’t just show up.”

  “Are you kidding?” asked Carol. “My mom thinks you’re the greatest friend I ever had.

  She’d love to have you with us. I’ll ask her if I can invite you, she’ll jump on it.” “I don’t know,

  Carol,” spoke Margaret. “You’d better run it past your mother once first.”

  “It’s a done deal,” answered Carol. “We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. Can you clear

  things with your aunt and uncle by then?”

  “Probably,” Margaret spoke hesitantly. She didn’t know how she felt about spending

  several days with Heather. She could hardly stand to be around her for more that a few minutes.

  Margaret looked up at her friend and knew she had made the right decision. A new glow

  shown from the younger girl’s face that Margaret had never seen before.

  Carol jumped up from the tree and began home to clear things with her mother. Margaret

  kn
ew that she wouldn’t have any trouble convincing Heather that Margaret should go with them.

  Still, the idea of spending that much time with Heather didn’t appeal to her.

  The park now seemed completely abandoned, and Margaret knew it was the ideal time to

  sit down and sort her feelings out in her journal. Before long, her attitude towards the weekend

  had changed.

  “...Today I was asked to spend some time in the mountains with Heather and her

  daughter. I don’t know why I’m so excited about it, but I am. In the past few days, I have tried to

  think of ways to destroy Heather’s image in the town. My plans have been altered slightly now.

  While up there this weekend, I will be around several of her closest friends. I know that

  this will be the opportunity to really bring out the truth. I’m not quite sure what I will do, but

  before the weekend is over, I will face Heather with the truth. With any luck, the whole camp

  will be around to witness it.

  My only problem now is what to do about Carol. She’s an innocent bystander in this

  whole dilemma. I don’t want to involve her anymore than I have to, and the embarrassment

  could be harmful to her. If I can find a way to keep her out of it, I will, but I won’t allow her

  presence to halt what I have set out to do.

  The only other obstacle I face now is getting these pictures developed. I looked through

  the phone book last night and found several small photography shops that also develop film. I

  need to find one with fairly liberal standards so that I can get this film developed...”

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 204

  Margaret entered the amateur photography shop and walked up to the older man who sat

  at the counter. He smiled back at the pretty young girl and set the magazine he read off to the

  side. Margaret didn’t bother looking at anything, but just walked straight over to the counter

  where he sat.

  “What can I help you with?” the man asked politely.

  “Well,” began Margaret. “I received this new camera as a graduation present, but I live a

  few hours from here, and I won’t be able to go home for a couple more weeks. I’m out here

  visiting with some relatives. I’ve already taken a couple of roles of film, but I haven’t really seen

  how good of pictures it takes.”

  “I could develop the film for you this evening,” explained the man. “Is it color?”

  “Actually, it’s all black and white. I’ve been experimenting with some different scenery,

  and I wanted to see how everything is turning out. Back home, I used to develop my own

  pictures at a local camera shop. The owner would rent out the room to me at an hourly rate plus

  supplies. I just wondered if I could talk you into the same deal.”

  “Do you have much experience?”

  “I took a year of photography in school, and I develop most all of my own film. I won’t

  be asking any questions of you. I know my way around a darkroom.”

  “Well, I suppose I could rent it out to you. I don’t usually do this, but I always like to

  help out inspiring young photographers. How much did your friend back home charge you for

  each hour?”

  “Ten dollars,” Margaret replied.

  “Well, I’ll only charge you five since you have such a pretty face. My developer who

  works here comes in at three o’clock. It’s only eleven now, so that should give you about four

  hours from start to finish. Will that be enough time for you?”

  “That should be plenty.”

  The man led Margaret to the small room at the back of the store. He showed her where

  the supplies were and asked if there was anything else she needed. She told him no and thanked

  him for getting her started, then he left her alone to get to work.

  Margaret left the shop at about two o’clock with her pictures and film in hand. She paid

  the man what she owed him and thanked him for his generosity. She showed the man some of

  the actual nature shots she had taken to finish the role, keeping the other pictures hidden in her

  bag. Then she quickly headed for her aunt and uncle’s house.

  She reached the house about twenty minutes later, and found her aunt busy cooking

  dessert in the kitchen. Her aunt yelled out a cheerful hello and Margaret joined her at the kitchen

  table.

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 205

  “How’s everything going, Margaret?” her aunt asked intently.

  “It’s been just great. I got up into the mountains to take some pictures yesterday, and this

  morning I took some historical pictures around town. This area is rich in history. I never knew

  about all the resources located around the valley.”

  “Well good, Margaret. I’m glad you’re getting the chance to look around a bit. It’s

  different from your usual all day horse rides, but it’s nice to see a young person so interested in

  learning about history. You should take a trip out to the old mountain cemetery.”

  “I was up at a camp above there earlier this week. I didn’t even think to stop by there and

  look around. I guess I got to wound up in the scenery up in the deep pines.”

  “Where’s your friend Carol at today?”

  “I just talked to her this morning,” Margaret replied. “She mentioned something

  yesterday afternoon about a camping trip that she and her mother are going on with a bunch of

  other women. She asked me today if I would like to go with them. I thought I would run the idea

  past you first.”

  “Whatever for, Margaret?” her aunt asked sincerely.

  “I just feel like I haven’t spent very much time with the two of you this week. I don’t

  want to feel like I’m just using the place for somewhere to sleep at nights.”

  “Margaret,” her aunt replied softly. “You’ve been here for breakfast and dinner, and

  you’ve gone out riding practically every morning. Your uncle and I are old folks. You need to be

  out mingling with people your own age. We know you would be bored to tears if you just sat

  around here all day. As long as I know where you are, you’re free to do whatever you wish while

  you’re staying here. You know that.”

  “Then you won’t mind?” Margaret asked with a serious tone.

  “Not at all. You get out there and enjoy yourself.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Kate.”

  Margaret talked with her aunt for a little while before heading up to her room. Once

  there, she pulled out the photographs she had developed from her bag. The pictures had turned

  out great, and the faces of the people in each picture were clear and recognizable.

  She had picked out the four most revealing shots from her collection of both Heather and

  Todd and developed triple prints of each. She decided to send out sets of each print to Todd’s

  office, Heather’s home and the local newspaper.

  Margaret sat down with her journal and wrote down her plans for the pictures. She also

  pulled out a bag of envelopes she had purchased from a local store. She addressed each of the

  envelopes and placed a set of pictures inside each. She placed stamps on the envelopes and

  placed a false return address on them.

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 206

  Margaret decided she would drop them in the mail tomorrow afternoon before she lef
t on

  the camping trip. Each party would then receive the pictures sometime following the weekend.

  By then, things would have already reached a climax.

  Margaret placed the envelopes inside her bag, and headed out to her car. She opened the

  trunk and began filling a duffel bag full of her climbing gear, which she always kept in the car

  with her. She figured she might find a use for it if she was going up into the mountains again.

  After an hour, Margaret had all her gear together and decided she would spend the rest of

  the day out riding the horses. She prepared the horse for a ride and left the stables to find her

  uncle somewhere out on the ranch.

  Margaret awoke early and put her things in her car. She took a short walk out to the

  stables to clear her mind. Anxiety had started to eat at her as she nervously anticipated the

  evening. She left the house, after saying good-bye to her aunt and uncle, and quickly drove into

  town.

  About half an hour after Margaret left to head over to Heather’s house for the camping

  trip, her Aunt Kate received a call on the telephone.

  “Hello,” uttered the voice. “This is Ray.”

  “Well hello, Ray, how are things at your house?”

  “It’s pretty quiet around here with the house empty,” he replied. “I just thought I would

  call and see how everybody’s doing there. Had to check up on my little girl, is she there?”

  “Actually,” Kate answered. “She just left for the weekend to go camping with one of her

  friends up here.”

  “Oh really. She’s only been gone a week and already has a new friend up there?”

  “Well, she said she knew the girl from high school. She met her at some camp or

  something they were both involved with during school. You might know of the girl, her name’s

  Carol.”

  “I can’t say that I recall anyone that she knew up there from school,” Ray admitted. “Do

  you know the girl’s parents?”

  “Oh sure, Ray. The girl’s father is our mayor, and her mother’s really active in the

  community as well. Practically the whole town knows who they are. Don’t worry, I didn’t let her

  go away with perfect strangers.”

  “Anyone I know?” Ray asked.

  “Todd Whitmore is her father’s name. You’ve never heard of a Carol Whitmore?”

 

‹ Prev