The Truth Circle

by Cameron Ayers

  Coop threw up his hands in frustration and stormed into the wigwam.

  “Can you believe that guy?” Ken asked with a triumphant smirk.

  Lamar was about to protest but Ken was already partway through the entrance. Lamar decided that complaining would have to wait. In truth, he was relieved to avoid another confrontation with Ken.

  The fire was lower now, still emitting sufficient heat to stave off the night’s chill, but not so much as to make things uncomfortable. Lamar could see that everyone had changed after the sweat; Gaby was wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck and loose-fitting jeans, while the others were dressed more comfortably, in short-sleeved T-shirts and shorts or pajama bottoms. Half of them were already in their sleeping bags. John, who had situated himself to the right of the entrance, had taken a slightly more modern approach: an inflatable mattress paired with a down comforter and his bedroll as a pillow.

  Lamar found his belongings, including his vintage Voltron sleeping bag, on the opposite side of the entrance, in an open area between Gaby and Wade. He made his way through the minefield of arms and legs before slipping into the sleeping bag, pausing just long enough to remove his shoes. He watched as John tied off the top and bottom of the door with nylon drawstrings attached to the wigwam’s lattice frame. Beside him, Coop appeared to be off in his own little world, staring quietly at a photo in his wallet.

  On the other side of the teepee, Beverly was complaining about the accommodations.

  “This is just so primitive. And the light from the fire is so distracting. It’s a pity I didn’t bring my sleeping shade with me.”

  Wade, who was laying by her feet, grunted his annoyance and sat up suddenly. He reached into his bag and produced his hunting knife, still stained with duck blood. Beverly shrieked in wide-eyed horror and immediately started scooting backward.

  But instead of attacking her, Wade pulled off his woolen Cowboy’s cap and sawed a two-inch band from the bottom, leaving just enough material for the cap to still fit on his balding pate. He tossed the band at Beverly.

  “There, your own personal sleep mask,” he barked. “Now shut the hell up.”

  Beverly sniffed the material to ensure it was clean, and satisfied that it was, warily pulled it over her eyes and lay back down.

  “We all could use some sleep,” John said. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

  “You mean we have a long day,” Beverly corrected.

  John ignored her and continued.

  “One final thing,” John said. “Don’t let the fire go out. If you wake up in the night and see it starting to ebb, just throw some more wood and kindling on it.”

  Lamar curled up in the fetal position and slipped on his headphones. Bob Marley quickly drowned out the others, and little by little, Lamar started to relax. As he grew more comfortable, he started to drift once more. Lamar welcomed the sensation. Before long, he was floating again.

  Sunday

  Lamar’s eyes fluttered opened. It was morning. He could see fragments of blue sky peeking through a dense patchwork of pine tree branches and needles overhead. He was in a building of some kind with an opening in the ceiling. A multitude of poles and springs lined the interior of the opening. He sat up. Empty sleeping bags and luggage covered most of the dirt floor except for a central firepit and a bare spot to the right of the entrance. Outside, muffled voices were quarreling. He removed his headphones and the voices grew clearer. They were arguing about someone named “John.” Did he know anyone named …

  All of Saturday’s events came flooding back. Lamar sat up in his sleeping bag and hastily unzipped it with fumbling fingers. What they were saying, it didn’t make sense. He must have misheard.

  He made for the entrance, which was partially ajar, and thrust it open with such force that he nearly fell to the ground.

  The others were all standing around the remnants of last night’s campfire, arguing. He could see Gaby and Ken mixing it up, while Beverly stood to the side, ranting mostly to herself. Coop was on the other end of the firepit, sitting crosslegged with his eyes closed as though he were meditating. Wade and John were nowhere to be seen.

  “John’s gone?” Lamar asked anxiously.

  Gaby and Ken stopped arguing long enough to acknowledge Lamar’s presence.

  “Well, look who’s decided to grace us with his presence,” Beverly said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “What did you mean by ‘John’s vanished?’” Lamar pressed, his breath visible in the chill morning air.

  “What do you think it means?” Ken spat, plainly annoyed at having to bring Lamar up to speed. “He made tracks and abandoned us here.”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” Gaby hastily interjected when panic started to creep over Lamar’s face. “All we know is he isn’t here.”

  “Did you check down by the creek?” Lamar asked, growing increasingly concerned.

  “Nobody takes their bedroll and air mattress with them to do some fishing,” Ken sneered.

  Lamar flashed back to the bare spot near the entrance of the teepee, the one where John had bedded down the night before. Lamar had been so preoccupied by the arguing that he’d scarcely noticed.

  “We checked everywhere,” Gaby said, her concern evident in her quavering voice. “But that’s not the worst of it. The van’s gone, too.”

  If Lamar wasn’t fully awake before, he was now. He looked to his right, where the van had been parked in front of the shed. Nothing. He noticed tire tracks leading out of camp.

  “Did he leave a note or anything?”

  Gaby shook her heads animatedly, biting her lower lip in anxiety.

  “Can we skip the Rip Van Winkle routine?” Beverly said, her impatience starting to catch up to her anxiety. “We need to get out of here!”

  “I wish you all would relax.”

  In contrast to the others’ frantic clamor, Coop’s voice was serene and contented.

  Coop opened his eyes and untangled his legs from the lotus position before sitting up and dusting off his ankle-length robes.

  “Like I said earlier, he’ll be back,” Coop said confidently.

  Ken responded with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “Ignore the Dali Llama Humper over there,” Ken said derisively. “He thinks this is all some kind of practical joke, like that old fraud is going to jump out of the bushes at any moment shouting ‘Smile, you’re on Candid Camera!’”

  “What’s a candid camera?” Lamar asked, his voice trailing off in embarrassment at a reference that everyone except for him seemed to understand.

  Beverly rolled her eyes skyward, like she was pleading for heavenly patience.

  “I don’t think he’s toying with us,” Coop continued, walking around the firepit to join the others with a beatific smile on his face. Ken looked like he wanted to punch him. “I think he’s testing us.”

  “What?” Lamar asked, growing more confused by the second.

  “Don’t get him started again,” Ken said with a groan of resignation.

  “Think of what he told us yesterday: this trip will be a challenge for us physically and mentally,” Coop reminded them. “What better way to challenge people than by making them think they’re stranded in the woods? I guarantee you, he’s going to come strolling back into camp in a day or two, seeing which of us adapted to the situation and which of us panicked.”

  Coop’s stress on that last word finally got through to Lamar, who slowly realized he’d been shouting this whole time, trying to hear himself over the sound of his own heartbeat jackhammering in his ears. The young man took several deep breaths and the sound gradually subsided. As it did, he started to become aware of a new sensation: cold. He could see the others had all dressed appropriately for the weather, while he was wearing only a T-shirt and sweatshorts. He started bouncing around from one bare foot to the other in an effort to keep warm.

  Unlike Lamar, Beverly willfully ignored Coop’s insight.

  “If panicking is wha
t it takes to get us going, I’m all for it,” she ranted as her anxiety started to feed on itself. “I can’t understand why you’re all just standing around! We need to go! We could die out here!”

  Gaby and Lamar exchanged worried glances.

  “Go where?” Gaby gently probed.

  “Anywhere!” Beverly practically screamed. “Civilization is in every direction! All we have to do is leave!”

  “Let’s just all calm down and think things through rationally,” Gaby insisted, despite giving every appearance that she was also succumbing to fear. “If we panic, we’re liable to make a mistake. Is there any chance he went back into town for supplies? I know we discussed it.”

  “John’s the one who shot that idea down,” Ken replied. “Besides, why would he leave without telling anyone?”

  “Where’s Wade? Did he leave with John?” Lamar asked, finally calm enough to take another stab at contributing.

  “Wade was with us when we woke up,” Gaby explained, her distaste for him evident in the face she made. “When he saw John was gone, he left without saying a word. That was about 20 minutes ago.”

  “I’m sure he’s just doing whatever it is that serial killers do in their spare time,” Ken said. “Probably pulling the limbs off of small critters and masturbating to their screams. Point is, we can’t count on anybody except ourselves.”

  “I still say John’s testing us,” Coop volunteered.

  “And we’re still ignoring you until you have something useful to contribute!” Ken shot back.

  “What if we follow the tire tracks? Let’s just follow the tire tracks home!” Beverly said, the words now tumbling out of her mouth as fast as she could open it. “They’ll lead us back to the highway. Let’s do it now!”

  “Part of the trip was on gravel roads, remember?” Gaby said. “No trail to follow. And we’d still have to negotiate that maze of paths John took us down. We’re more likely to get ourselves lost than find the highway.”

  “We are lost!” Beverly wailed.

  “Then forget the road,” Ken said. “We can save time by cutting across the woods. The strip mall we started out from was northwest of Quehanna, right?”

  The others looked at him blankly.

  “Am I the only one who checked Google Maps before booking this trip?”

  Judging from the others’ blank expressions, he was.

  Ken sighed and pointed to the mid-morning sun, which was towering over the hills fencing the campsite in to the east. “That direction’s east, so that means the floodplains lead west. I say we pack up what we can and follow the floodplains until we reach civilization.”

  “Forget it,” Gaby said, rejecting the idea out of hand. “That’s even worse. John said this was … how many square miles? Sixty-five?”

  “Seventy-five,” Lamar answered. “That’s a lot of walking.”

  “And that’s assuming we don’t get lost,” Gaby added.

  “If you two have a better idea, I’d love to hear it,” Ken challenged.

  “I think we should stay put,” Lamar volunteered.

  Ken studied him for a moment before bursting out laughing. Lamar’s cheeks grew flushed and he looked away, embarrassed.

  “Are you shitting me, Urkel?” Ken guffawed. “That’s your master plan? Just do nothing?”

  “Uhmm … I watch a lot of survival shows,” Lamar continued, embarrassed but refusing to back down. “Man vs. Wild, Naked and Afraid, Survivorman. And they all say the same thing: if you’re lost, stay put and wait for help to arrive,” he finished, growing more confident as he spoke.

  “Exactly,” Gaby said, siding with Lamar.

  Ken opened his mouth to respond when Beverly unexpectedly erupted.

  “I’m not trusting my life to your viewing habits!” she shouted, her shrill tone catching even Ken off guard. “What’s wrong with you people? We need to get out of here!”

  “Take it easy, Beverly,” Gaby said, placing her hand on the older woman’s shoulder to calm her.

  “We can’t waste daylight discussing this!” Beverly persisted, though at a lower volume. “We need to go now!”

  “What she said,” Ken added unhelpfully. “Sitting on our asses is not a solution.”

  “All of us have family and friends expecting us back, right?” Gaby said. “All of whom know where we are. So when we aren’t back by Friday night, they’ll know something’s up. They’ll file missing persons reports.”

  “Lady, nobody knows where we are,” Ken retorted. “Hell, we don’t even know where we are!”

  “John knows,” Coop said, still unperturbed.

  “Then you can ask him the next time you see him!” Beverly snapped.

  “They know we booked with Mystic Tours and they know that we were headed into Quehanna,” Lamar said. “By Saturday, these woods should be crawling with state troopers.”

  “Oh, so all we have to do is not starve to death and not get mauled by wild animals for a whole week?” Ken replied sarcastically.

  “We have the canned food and the coolers,” Lamar replied evenly.

  “Lamar’s right,” Gaby chimed in. “If we ration the food carefully, we should be able to hold out.”

  “And what if it doesn’t last?” Beverly challenged, her voice rising in panic.

  “We’re in a forest. We can hunt and fish,” Gaby said, trying to comfort the older woman.

  “I can’t be stuck here with you people,” Beverly mumbled, rubbing her arms for comfort. “I won’t do it.”

  “What’ll we do for warmth?” Ken asked, looking askance at Beverly. Her behavior was starting to concern even him. “A week out here, we could freeze to death.”

  “Gaby still has the fire-starting kit,” Lamar jumped in, avoiding eye contact with Ken. “John gave it to her. And we have all this wood,” he added, pointing to the woodpile situated between the wigwam and the outhouses.

  “I still don’t like it,” Ken said. “CEOs don’t just sit on their haunches. As dad would say, ‘a leader who doesn’t attack the problem is no leader.’”

  “Tell you what, why don’t we go down to the creek and take an inventory of the food?” Gaby said. “And if it doesn’t look like there’s enough to last us, we can come up with another plan.”

  “I also agree about staying put,” Coop spoke up. “But only because John won’t know where to find us when he returns.”

  Ken stewed for a moment before finally agreeing.

  “Fine,” he said with a huff. “We’ll check the food. But when we’re counting out portions, make certain to exclude the Count of Mantra Krishna over here.”

  “Fine by me,” Coop replied breezily. “I’m sure John will bring more with him.”

  Everyone now looked at the lone holdout in the group.

  “I don’t like this plan,” Beverly said quietly, still rubbing her arms for comfort. “We need to go.”

  This time, Lamar decided to take the initiative. He reached out awkwardly to comfort Beverly as he’d seen Gaby do. Beverly pulled back instinctively as he extended his arm, which he hastily dropped it to his side.

  “Beverly, we’re all scared,” he said. “But we can’t let fear make the decisions for us. Do you understand?”

  “No,” she replied quietly, repeatedly shaking her head. “We need to go while we still can.”

  “Why don’t you wait here with Coop, and we’ll be back shortly,” Gaby joined in. “We can decide then, okay? Can you wait for us that long?”

  “Yes,” she said softly, still shaking her head no.

  Gaby and Lamar exchanged worried glances.

  After giving Lamar a few minutes to change into warmer attire and make a stop at the outhouse, the trio set out for the creek, leaving behind an unconcerned Coop and a very concerned Beverly.

  * * * * * *

  Ken led the group west into the floodplain, past the archery range and down a gently sloping hill into an open field surrounded on all sides by small clusters of maple and ash trees. At the fie
ld’s western edge he paused for a moment, as if trying to remember the way, before heading into a dense brake of huckleberry bushes.

  “You sure this is the way?” Gaby asked, none too convinced.

  “Positive,” Ken said confidently. “On the other side we’ll find the path to the water’s edge.”

  The sound of rushing water was faint but audible, so the others followed him one by one into the foliage. On the other side they found a small mound with a single oak sapling growing out of its peak, flanked on either side by rows of painful-looking stinging nettles and thistle weeds. No trail.

  Gaby sighed in frustration and tugged on the neckline of her turtleneck to let some more air in.

  “It’ll be on the other side of this hill,” Ken said as he pointed westward, his confidence unflappable.

  “We didn’t cross a hill last time,” Lamar noted.

  “This is just a shortcut,” Ken insisted. “Trust me.”

  Gaby and Lamar exchanged a dubious look but followed him up the slope.

  Ken continued up the hill, taking steps so wide that one misstep would have permanently changed his vocal register. When he was halfway up, Ken suddenly paused and faced the pair, who were struggling to keep up.

  “So, we need to talk about who’s in charge,” he told them out of the blue.

  “In charge of what?” Lamar asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “The group,” Ken replied with a small waggle of his head, as though the answer were obvious. “We’re in a crisis, and as dad would say: ‘the greater the crisis, the greater the need for leadership.’”

  “We did just fine letting majority rule decide,” Gaby replied.

  “Did we?” Ken asked, charging up the hill again. “We wasted an hour or more going round and round on things, and we’re still divided; you two want to stay, Becky and I want to go.”

  “Beverly,” Lamar gently corrected.

  “Whatever,” Ken said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “The point stands. A crisis can’t be solved by committee. We need someone to steer us through this.”