The Vivisectionist (21 page)

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Authors: Ike Hamill

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: The Vivisectionist
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“Hey,” said Ben, pointing at the letter, “why does he capitalize ‘job’ here at the end?”

“I don’t know—but this other sentence has a capital ‘truth’ in it,” said Jack.

“Oh,” said Stephen, “I’ve seen a capital truth before. My mom has a thing on the wall that her mom made, and it says ‘I am the Truth, the only light that must shine in your life because I am your Salvation.’ I memorized it for school one time.”

“What does it mean?” asked Ben.

“I don’t know,” said Stephen. “We just had to memorize a poem and it was really short.”

“That might make sense though,” said Jack. “What if he means look in his vulnerability to see light?”

“That’s just as bad as before though,” said Ben. “It doesn’t exactly make anything clearer.”

“I found something,” said Stephen. “Here’s the white King’s Bishop. He can only move on white squares.”

“Why the white ones?” asked Ben.

“Because white moves first, and he said first,” answered Jack.

“That’s right,” said Stephen.

“So if ‘Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear,’ then walking on white things must be safe,” said Jack.

“And that’s one of the true sentences?” Stephen asked.

“Yup,” Jack confirmed.

“Great,” said Ben.

“Hey, put something on that list to prop open that hatch. I don’t want to get stuck in that place,” said Stephen.

“Okay. Let’s go tell my mom that we’re going out to the woods,” said Jack.

 

**********

 

“Nope. You need to stick around the house this morning,” Jack’s mom said.

“Aw mom!” protested Jack. “But it’s beautiful outside.”

“It’s not going to kill you to stick around for a few hours,” she said. “Your dad is out running errands, but he said you were to stay here until he got a chance to talk to you.”

“When’s he coming back?” asked Jack.

“He’ll be here at noon,” she said.

The boys spent the morning checking clocks and watching out the windows. Minutes before noon, a sheriff’s car pulled up at the curb, but the sheriff didn’t get out of his car. Stephen watched him from the living-room window while Jack and Ben went upstairs to make sure the letter and money were well hidden under Jack’s bed.

When they came back downstairs, the situation outside hadn’t changed.

“He’s just sitting there,” said Stephen. “Looks like he’s writing something.”

Jack’s dad pulled into the driveway at that moment. Instead of heading towards the door, he met the sheriff at the sidewalk. They shook hands and talked for a minute before coming inside.

“Boys?” yelled Jack’s dad as he came in the front door. “Oh, there you are.”

“What’s up, dad?” asked Jack.

“I was talking to the sheriff again this morning, and I want you to talk to him again. You three have a seat,” he pointed to the couch.

“Sure, Dad,” said Jack.

The sheriff sat down in the big chair again. He flipped through his notes for several moments before looking up at the boys. Jack’s dad stood behind him and to the left with his arm’s crossed.

“We had two young men in custody for shooting local pets,” Sheriff Kurtwood said, eyeing each of the boys.

Jack, Ben, and Stephen remained quiet.

“I said ‘had’ because they’re out on bail now,” said the sheriff.

“Oh,” said Jack.

“But,” the sheriff continued, “they were nervous and one of my deputies overheard them talking one night. They must have thought they were alone. This deputy is very quiet.”

Jack looked up at his dad who returned his gaze and held it.

“It seems that the two young men we had in custody seemed to think they had been witnessed by three boys,” the sheriff continued. “They also mentioned a man who was target-shooting, but I’m guessing 
that one
 wasn’t you.”

Jack looked at Ben and Stephen. His face pink and the tips of his ears red, Ben looked only at his own feet. Stephen, the complete opposite, looked comfortable and possibly even a little amused.

“We didn’t see anyone,” said Jack.

“You’re not going to be in trouble, Jack,” said the sheriff. “Not from me at least, and not from your dad. But, if these men 
think 
you turned them in, then that will be trouble.”

“Jack, if you saw something, then tell Sheriff Kurtwood—he’s here to help,” said Jack’s dad.

Ben looked up—“He’s telling the truth, he didn’t see anything,” he blurted out.

Everyone was silent, waiting for Ben’s confession.

“I got ahead of Stephen and Jack when we were hiking, and I saw two guys with a gun. I wasn’t sure if they saw me or not, but I really don’t think they saw Stephen and Jack, so maybe they were talking about some other kids.”

“What did they look like?” asked the sheriff.

“They were about six feet I guess,” said Ben. “One was skinny and smoking all the time. He had long side-burns and had a handgun tucked into his belt in back. The other one had long hair and carried a brown paper bag around.”

The sheriff wrote in his notebook and then asked “What day was this?”

Ben looked up and away, and said “Uh, the day after fireworks, so the fifth I guess.”

“Okay,” said the sheriff. “And where were you?”

“The pits, or quarry,” said Ben.

“And Stephen and Jack were?”

“Behind me somewhere. I got ahead.”

“And where did the older boys go?”

“I don’t know,” said Ben. “They were leaving when I saw them, so I just hid behind a tree.”

“And then you found the shells?” asked the sheriff.

“Well, yeah, I mean Stephen and Jack actually found them,” replied Ben.

“And you told them about the older boys?”

“Yeah, I mentioned it,” said Ben.

“And none of you thought to mention this last time I was here?”

“We didn’t want to get into any more trouble, sir,” said Stephen. “We didn’t really see anything important.”

Jack’s dad broke in—“It’s not up to you to decide what’s important. You three need to keep that in mind. What you were in trouble for was hiding something that would have been important for you parents to know.”

“I know dad,” said Jack, “I’m really sorry. We were really scared.”

“Okay,” said the sheriff, standing up. “I’ve got what I need. I suggest you boys be careful.”

Jack’s dad showed the sheriff out and they discussed the situation on the porch for a few minutes.

“Why did you do that?” Jack whispered to Ben.

“Shhh, he’s coming back,” said Ben.

Jack’s dad came back into the living room and sat down in his big chair.

“Anything else I should know?” asked Jack’s dad.

“I’m trying very hard to not overreact here, boys,” he continued. “You just have to understand that this is a difficult time for a parent. You’re trying to be independent and make your own way, but there are a lot of things in the world that can hurt you, and you’re not equipped to recognize them all yet. Most kids your age are having a very structured summer of activities, but you’ve asked to entertain yourselves and all your parents agreed that it was okay.”

“Thank you, Dad,” said Jack.

“Yeah, thanks Mr. Randolph,” said Stephen.

“Okay,” he continued, “but the burden on us is to somehow make sure you’re safe, without imposing so many rules that you’re hamstrung in what you can do.”

Jack’s dad took a deep breath. “I think you’ve done okay so far this summer, and learned that you need to maintain boundaries. So, you’re not in any trouble over this, but remember—we’re here to help you. No secrets.”

“Okay—thanks,” said Jack.

“Stephen,” Jack’s dad said, “call your mom.”

“Okay,” said Stephen.

 

**********

 

Jack and Ben waited in Jack’s room for Stephen to get off the phone. He walked in with a big smile and closed the door behind him.

“End of the month!” said Stephen.

“Nice!” said Jack.

“What about swimming class?” asked Ben.

“She moved it,” he said. “There’s a new class that starts on August first, so I’m going to take that.”

“So are we going to confirm your theories about the letter today?” Ben asked Jack.

“I guess,” Jack said. “My dad said we weren’t going to be punished or anything. You almost ruined it with that confession—what was 
that
 about?”

“I had to do something,” said Ben. “I was totally blowing it ‘cuz I was so nervous. I knew the sheriff knew I knew something.”

“All in all, it was a pretty good lie,” said Stephen.

“What?” exclaimed Jack. “It was totally lame.”

“No, seriously,” started Stephen, “it completely explained why we were clearly covering something up. I think it worked great. Did you see the way the sheriff just dismissed everything after that?”

Jack thought about it. “I guess. You think he really bought it?”

“Oh yeah,” said Stephen. “Good job, Ben.”

“Do you think my dad is right—we should be telling him everything?” asked Jack.

“That’s retarded,” said Stephen. “He’d lose his mind!”

“Yeah,” continued Jack, “but what if he’s right? What if that place is really dangerous and we’re being stupid?”

“We’re not going to do anything dangerous,” said Ben. “We’ve already talked about that. We’ll be completely careful.”

“Yeah,” said Stephen.

“Okay,” Jack acquiesced.

“Let’s get going,” said Ben.

 

**********

 

“Got it,” said Stephen. He had propped a piece of two-by-four in the hatch in the side of the building. The bottom of the board rested on the sill and the top was wedged against the sliding concrete door they suspected blocked the hatch when it was closed. Ben was already waiting down in the room they now called the “drawing room,” named for the anatomical drawing on the far wall.

Jack held the step-ladder for Stephen as he swung over the ledge and stared down rope-ladder to bottom of the passage. Next, Jack headed up the ladder.

“Okay,” said Jack, “lights on. I’m turning off the switch.”

When they first arrived and opened the hatch they had found the switch on. After some debate they believed that they had accidentally left it on. It had made them quite nervous to think they were not the only ones using this doorway, but after reassuring each other, they believed they had done it themselves.

Jack joined his friends in the “drawing room” as they looked around with their flashlights.

“Does the letter say anything about this room?” asked Ben.

Jack dug around in his backpack and produced the letter. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to start at the bottom. This room is definitely at the bottom. Is there a heart on that drawing?” Jack pointed at the drawing on the wall with his light. “If there is, it may be his deepest vulnerability.”

Stephen was closest to the drawing on the wall. He walked over and inspected the drawing. From top to bottom, he held his light close to the wall and examined the artwork. “There’s a hole in his heart,” he said.

“What?” asked Ben as he joined Stephen at the drawing. “Incredible.”

“Here—look,” said Stephen.

When Jack caught up with his friends the were looking at a quarter-inch hole in the wall. Just below the surface of the painted drywall, they could see a glass lens filled the hole.

“Looks like a peep-hole,” said Stephen. “Like in an apartment door.”

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