Fresh Flesh (10 page)

A finely-honed tree branch can go through
you like butter.

Dick had come back and was standing before
her.

"Jessica?"

She stood, covered in Bobby's blood, confused
and speechless.

"Jessica, it's okay. I'm here."

He came out of the bushes with his hands held
out.

And seeing his face, she remembered who the
person was she had the bad dream about:

Him.

"Before you say anything," Dick said,
stopping at the corpse. He bent down, wrenched the bloody
tree-spear from Bobby's head and tossed it into the bushes.

Jessica backed up, staring warily at her dead
stalker. "S-stay away, Dick. . ."

"Let me explain."

"Go to hell." She inched back, stopping when
she felt the chill of Bobby's buck knife kiss her back. If her
lungs held any air and her voice box would have allowed it, she
would have screamed again.

Dick rolled Bobby's body over so neither of
them would have to view it. "I didn't want this to happen."

"Leave me alone, you son of a bitch."

"Jessica, please."

"You hit me."

"I just saved your life."

"You hit me."

"I saved your life twice."

"You hit me."

"Jessica, I'm sorry."

"Apology not accepted, you bastard. What did
you come back for, huh? To hit me again?"

Dick showed no indication of the rage he'd
displayed the previous night. He did not move any closer, staying
his ground, fully understanding that if he took a step, just one
step, Jessica might flee.

"I can't take back what I did last night."
Dick held both hands out. "I can't take back a thousand bad things
I've done in my life."

"Why did you hit me, Dick? Why?"

"I fucked up. No excuses. I know it's not
okay."

"No. No, it's not okay. Just when 1 started
to trust you and then you pull
that
on me."

"You're right."

"You think that because I'm a woman you can
take advantage of me any damn way you please?"

"Jessica?"

"What?"

"Do you think we can have this fight after we
bury Bobby?"

"I'm not moving an inch in your direction. I
don't want to come near you. Do you hear me. Dick? I. Hate.
You."

Dick shook his head: "You don't mean
that."

Of course she didn't, but she wouldn't admit
that right this moment.

"Leave me alone. You said that's what you
were going to do last night. Just leave me alone."

"And let you get killed?"

Jessica couldn't answer that, she felt he
might be right.

Dick knelt down. "I never wanted this to
happen, do you understand? I never wanted you to see any of this. I
only wanted to keep you safe. Now things are different. If I let
you go now, you will be in danger."

Fear replaced Jessica's anger. Dick's
statement suggested that there was worse than Bobby on the island.
Maybe the wild animals Dick had claimed existed on the east side
were other psychos like Bobby.

"No more BS, Dick, what is going on
here?"

Dick stared at Bobby, then back. "We bury
Bobby and then,
then
I promise to answer all your questions.
Everything."

She wondered for a moment if he would. Dick's
face looked more honest, more truthful than it ever had. After his
deception could she believe anything he said?

"Jessica I know you have no reason to trust
me after what I did last night. I made a terrible mistake."

"That's an understatement."

"It there's anything I could do to take it
back, anything at all, I would. I never meant to hurt you."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I think. . .hope once I explain everything,
you will understand why I wasn't totally honest from the
start."

"That's a lousy excuse, Dick. I'm not going
anywhere with you."

"We can't stand here and fight all day."

"Wanna bet?"

"Jessica, it will be dark soon and I've
learned enough about you to know that you don't want to be out here
at night. Especially sitting next to Bobby in. . .this condition.
Come on."

"No, Dick, I'm not moving." She was lying.
She would rather be back in the cave, not in the dark with a dead
Bobby.

"Please?"

"Go to hell. You're a liar and woman
beater."

"Just let me explain."

"You can explain right here, right now.
Otherwise you can go to hell."

"What do you want to hear me say?"

"You hit me."

"Okay, okay, I hit you. But I can't take it
back. Never. That and a lot of other messed up things in my
life."

"Dick, I trusted you, I started to believe in
you. . ." Tears began to well in her eyes.

He moved toward her.

"Stay back." She held up her hand. He
stopped. "Just stay away from me. Please."

"Okay, I'll keep my distance. I don't want to
hurt you anymore. Do you know what I did when I left you last
night?"

"I don't care."

"I walked around the island all night. I told
myself how stupid I was to do that to you. I don't know what made
me do it. That's not me. I've never struck a woman before. Never.
Total lapse of judgment. It's not how you, or any woman, should be
treated."

"But it happened."

"Please accept my apology for now. Accept my
word—I know you have absolutely no reason to—that I won't hurt you
ever again. I've never felt—"

"Stop. Just knock it off. If you say anymore,
I'll. . .lose it. I think I'm going crazy as it is. Last night you
punch-slap me around, today I find your sick proof that you knew
what happened to Edward, and then, then this maniac tries to rape
me. Dick, please, if you want to do me a favor, if you want to help
my sanity, tell me what's going on here?"

"What's this about your husband?" Dick asked,
eyebrows raised and forehead creased.

"You set his hand out in front of the
bathroom by the cave. There were these bugs everywhere, crawling. .
." She could hold back the tears any more. Weeping into her hands
again. She wanted to fight, be stronger, but this island was
breaking her.

"Jessica, I swear to you, I didn't put
Edward's hand anywhere. If I had found any proof he was dead,
instead of only a strong suspicion, I would have told you."

"I came out from going the bathroom this
morning and tripped over Edward's hand. But his hand, it was
horrible. Bugs, bugs. . ."

"Jessica, I swear I had nothing to do with
that."

She looked at him sharply.

"Really, I swear."

Long, awkward pause.

"Why do I believe you?" she said.

"Because I'm doing something new from now on:
I'm telling only the truth."

"So if you didn't put his hand there, then
who—" They both looked at Bobby and next in the east direction of
the island.

"This isn't good at all," Dick said in an
ominous tone. "Not good."

"Start talking, Dick. You start talking to me
right now."

He looked at her and saw something on his
face that she never expected to see: fear.

Dick was frightened too.

"We have to bury Bobby. Then we'll go back to
the cave and I'll tell you everything I know. The whole story."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise. Swear on my mother's good
name, pinky swear, scout's honor. Whatever it takes for you to
believe I'm playing it straight from now on."

"Okay, Dick. I'll go back. But the second we
get there you will talk. You'll answer every question I have."

"I will."

"And when you're done answering all my
questions. . .." She wasn't sure what would happen after that.

He nodded and reached for Bobby's ankles.

"And another thing," she said.

"What?"

"Bury him by yourself."

Dick dug Bobby's grave without saying another
word. He found a spot about twenty feet outside the clearing. He
dug the dirt mostly with his hands, but when he came to hard earth
he used Bobby's buck knife to loosen the dirt. It took Dick a long
time to make a hole big enough. He grabbed Bobby's ankles, dragged
his heavy corpse into the small pit, then stopped and took a short
break. Fine rivulets of sweat rolled down his pale cheeks.

"Wouldn't it be easier burying him in the
clearing?" Jessica didn't get why Dick intentionally chose a spot
outside the dirt in the clearing.

Dick kept working.

"And why bother burying him, anyway?" Jessica
said a bit later. The whole burial process unsettled her. A cruel
thought considering she believed every human being deserved a
preferred burial but she was more concerned about vacating the area
as soon as possible.

"
Shinin no waruguchi wa yokunai
." Dick
answered, wiping his brow.

"Huh?"

"A Japanese phrase, loosely interpreted to
mean: 'speaking ill of the dead is not good.'"

After that, Jessica kept quiet.

He looked down into the pit one last time,
shook his head, and started refilling the hole.

A few minutes later it was over.

Dick looked up. "Are you ready?"

Jessica nodded.

They went back to the cave.

He dragged another rock seat out of the
corner of the cave and placed it directly across from his. He lit a
small fire for light because the sun had fallen. She sat, still
reluctant to be too near him. He sat down across from her.

"I have no idea where to start with telling
you about this island, so I won't start with the island. I'll start
with myself."

"As long as it's the truth."

"It will be."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"My real name isn't Dick. Well, not really,
anyway. It's just a nickname. Just like Bobby back there. . .his
real name was Robert Morris. Does that name ring any bells?"

"Should it?"

"I'll get to Bobby a little later. Anyway, my
real name is Richard Templin. I didn't lie about my age. I am
twenty-nine but I feel about twice as old. And regrettably this
island has made me look it."

No disagreement there.

"I was born in Seattle, Washington but raised
in Medina, Washington. I grew up not too far from your home in
Valford. We were dirt poor. Everything I ever got as a kid was
either ripped off or left behind by someone else. Before turning
sixteen I'd already done some time. Petty stuff. Theft, disorderly
conduct, a few fights."

The fire crackled.

"I've always had a guilty face I think. When
I turned seventeen I was at a big party that the cops raided. One
of my buddies, stoned out of his skull, had a gun. He opened fire
on the cops and five people ended up dying. Four cops and my buddy.
I had my fingerprints all over the gun, stupid, I know, don't ask
me why, I was pretty stoned myself. And when it was all over, the
cops pinned the deaths on me. They rushed my case through the trial
with a lousy court-appointed lawyer who didn't care. I was wrongly
accused and sentenced. My face, that's what I've always thought. Do
you think I have a guilty face, Jessica?"

"Yes." She did. She tried to imagine him more
clean-cut, if his face hadn't been ravaged by time and the island
then maybe he wouldn't have looked as criminal-like.

"Every time I looked in the mirror I knew I
was cursed. If you have a guilty face, you might as well write your
life off. They sentenced me to die by electrocution on October 17,
1982."

"Weren't you a little young?"

"No. There have been several cases of the
death sentences imposed for crimes committed while the accused was
under eighteen."

"Oh my," Jessica said.

"Yes. The justice system found my crime,
aggravated by the death of policemen being involved and my prior
rap sheet, added up to a death sentence. The worst part of the
whole ordeal was I knew the cold day in October was coming. Their
treatment was so wrong, so cruel those last sixty days on death
row. Opposite of what you hear it's supposed to be like. Cop
killers are cool in other convict's eyes but not to the guards. You
wouldn't believe some of the shitty things the guards did to me. I
was pissed on, called every dirty word imaginable, I was the 'next
in line' everyone said. I started feeling sorry for the guy behind
me."

Richard took a tree branch spear and stoked
the fire.

"I had never been more terrified. Every day
I'd wake thinking that I'd be in the chair, hooked up, frying. I
had nightmares, dozens of them. I told myself that I lived in the
cruelest world there was. Even if I had killed those cops, I still
felt capital punishment was wrong for my case. I don't know about
other death row cases but I felt my case didn't deserve it."

"Doesn't everybody in prison say they're
innocent?" Jessica asked.

"Most do, yes, and I'm sure most are full of
it but we all know not everybody in prison did what the jury found
them guilty of doing."

"Anyway, I read lots and lots of books on
other death row convicts. People that were gassed, burned, hanged,
shot, stoned. My fear grew day by day, hour by hour, until the day
came. I went to the room with my nerves in tact but the second they
strapped me in, well, I lost it. I knew,
knew
that it was my
turn."

Jessica hadn't thought much about dying. She
knew that the day would come but it all seemed far away and not
something to fear or embrace yet. She spent more brainpower trying
to decide what to do with her free time and what to do with Edward
when he could squeeze in time for them to spend together. Dying was
something she figured that she'd worry about when older or if she
became diagnosed with a life threatening illness.

"So I do know how you felt back there when
Bobby was chasing you. I know how it feels to have your life
threatened."