Hissers (5 page)

“You were frigging six years old, Seth.”

“I didn’t scream. That’s what they don’t get. That’s what they can’t accept.
I didn’t scream.
I don’t know why either. I didn’t scream and now I’m doomed to a life of guilt and humiliation. A fat fuck of a joke. Just go to the party without me.”

Connor watched his friend wipe away his tears as he blasted more German troops. He knew the story well enough, at least as much as Seth had told it to him two summers ago when his family had moved to town. They’d been living in a small ‘burb in Ohio, in a two bedroom house on a quiet residential street. Seth’s father, Frank, was a network engineer and his mom, Debbie, worked as a CPA in a local tax firm. They both put in long hours, they both came home tired and went to bed after a quick meal and cup of tea. Seth and his little sister Joana didn’t know how hard their parents worked, didn’t know how much overtime was required to support the two children they adored.

Not seeing them for most of the day was just their daily routine. This meant Seth staying after school for the in-house daycare program and Joana being dropped off at a different daycare for toddlers until they both could be picked up.

The day their lives changed was like any other. A light drizzle fell like a film grain effect from the clouds overhead that October Thursday. The trees were starting to go bare, the last few dried-up orange and brown leaves dancing to the ground to decay before the obligatory onslaught of winter snow. Seth was six and Joana four. Debbie had picked them up around six and brought them home, made them dinner, and surprised them with hot chocolate and a Disney movie from Netflix. Frank came home around eight and played with his children for half an hour before putting them to bed. Then he and his wife shared a few quick stories from their day, discussed a bill or two, and did the same. Hours passed while everyone slept.

When the sky was at its darkest, and the moon was lost behind deep purple rain clouds, one of the bedroom windows in Seth and Joana’s room slid open. A lanky figure in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt crawled in the way a spider might enter a crack in the wall—long legs first, arms and cephalothorax second, abdomen last. The stench of garbage and dirt swirled in with him and seemed to settle on the floors and walls. The strange figure’s bones creaked as he moved.

Seth woke up, watching in the glow of a bumble bee nightlight as the figure moved closer on the stick-like legs and leaned over him. A gaunt, scruffy face looked back at him from the depths of the hood; sunken eyes black and slick like olives, a gray beard peppered with mud, and a gin blossom nose. The man slowly lifted a finger to his thin, cracked lips. “
Shhh.
”

Stricken with enough fear to immobilize every muscle and bone in his body, Seth felt a shroud of helplessness engulf him. He was old enough to know what a burglar was, knew he must scream for his mother and father, yet he couldn’t find his voice, as if the man’s shushing had cast a spell over him. He felt his crotch go warm and wet but the sensation did nothing to spur him into action. A subtle shaking, like a deep winter shiver, overtook his legs and chest. His teeth chattered. His heart pounded. Yet he could only lie there and watch and pray to God for help.

The man in the sweatshirt took a long step across the room on his spindly legs, more dirt wafting in his wake, bent down over Joana and kissed her forehead. The twiggy fingers on the ends of his mantis-like arms cracked as he slid them under her small frame and scooped her up. Still asleep, she rolled her face into the man’s chest and gripped his sweatshirt. Seth knew she thought it was Dad, but he couldn’t find his voice or his feet to tell her it was not.

The insectile man looked back at Seth for what seemed an eternity. His eyes reflected pinpricks of light from the bumble bee, his mouth twitched and made faint smacking sounds as if he were chewing meat. He measured Seth’s features, imprinting the young boy’s face in his mind, perhaps for later use. Again, he put one bony finger to his mouth. “
Shhh.
” Then he turned, carried Joana out the window into the night, and was gone.

It was the last time Seth or anyone else ever saw his sister.

The next four years were spent dealing with the police, missing persons experts, the FBI. Seth met with more councilors and therapists than he could count. He was the only one who had seen the man enter the house, which made his description gospel for a long while, but as the years went by the experts began to insinuate he’d seen things differently. “All this talk of bug legs and arms is a dissociative mechanism, a way to make sense of the nightmare,” one therapist had told his parents. “By turning the kidnapper into some kind of magical demon, it helps him rationalize his shock. It’s common in small children who suffer the intrusion of a stranger, and pretty prevalent in sexual abuse cases. Unfortunately he has become so accustomed to seeing this demon in his head that he may not actually be describing the man accurately for police. We need him to remember what the man really looked like if we’re going to ever catch him.”

In the end the police and FBI had never found a credible suspect. All Seth’s parents could do was ask him why. Why didn’t he scream? Why didn’t he run or make a noise? Why had it taken him a whole hour to get out of bed and come crying into their room? Why why
why!

“Still not going to the party,” Connor said. He slipped out through the opening between the pallets and pushed through the trees until he got to the edge of the hill that looked down across Farmers Road and into the park. As he’d suspected, a soccer game was taking place in the closest field. From the way the players were all running in various directions, completely missing the ball, and even standing still trying to catch butterflies, it was clearly the pee wee league. Beyond the far field he could see the grassy area people picnicked on, but it was too far away to really see anyone’s face. He scanned it nevertheless, looking for a sign of—

There!
He was sure he could see Nicole and Amanita laying out on big, white towels. Of course it could be anyone, but he wanted to think it was them. He sure did hope Nicole showed up tonight. Especially now that he told Seth he wasn’t going to the party it would be the only way to see her.

He sat on the hill and looked out over the town, followed the line of small mountains that ran around it on three sides. From this height he could see the Jefferson Bridge into Victorville, could see the rock walls of the Jefferson River ravine—now nothing but a dried up creek bed full of empty beer cans and old tires. He could see most of the town as well; the high school he’d be attending in two days, the public library, the 7-Eleven at the top of Draper Road, the pizza place his folks ordered from every Wednesday night, the garage Dad said ripped everybody off, the Dennys where the high school kids hung out and ordered coffee, the used bookstore where he’d discovered George R.R. Martin just last summer and, in the distance, the shopping mall.

If he squinted just right he could make out his street, but the trees that ran down it pretty much blocked out the view of the houses. Still, he knew whereabouts his house should be. He could look two streets over and see Nicole’s street. She’d lived so close to him for so long but they still didn’t know much about each other outside of school. He knew she was a brain, she knew he played sports, end of story.

Heavy footsteps alerted him to Seth’s approach. The boy sat down, crossed his legs Indian style, and looked out over the town as well. “Sorry about that back there.”

“About getting your pansy ass kicked by Germans? Forget it. You suck at games, what can you do?”

“You know what I mean.” Seth held up the PSP. “Here, wanna play? You did steal the batteries after all. Your game is still saved on the memory card.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I played so much yesterday I dreamed I was hiding in hedgerows in the South of France all night.”

“Suit yourself. What are you thinking about?”

Connor smiled. “About tonight.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t know…” Connor pitched a rock out toward the road. “Something just feels weird.”

Seth pitched a rock out as well. It didn’t go as far. “Yeah, girls are weird.”

Saturday, 8:11pm

The sky was striated with bands of amber and violet as night settled in. Connor took in the view, finding Rorschach patterns in the clouds as he and his friend once again returned to their sanctuary. It was, after all, the last weekend night they would share together here that wouldn’t involve worries about homework for many months.

“How was your dinner?” Seth asked.

“Okay. Dad made hamburgers on the grill. You?”

“Leftovers again. Mom said she didn’t want to cook. I think the docs upped her anti-depressants. C’mon, let’s go.”

Trudging up the hill to the fort at night was a real pain. The summer foliage was thick and seemed to absorb any trace of light that got in its way. The streetlights on Farmers Road bounced some glare back up through the trees, but mostly Connor and Seth had to navigate the path by moonlight and two small flashlights.

Thankfully the path was wide and traveled frequently enough that even in the dark you had a sense of where it was before you. Besides, Seth and Connor had been there enough times at night to be experts at finding their way even if there wasn’t a path. The only real danger, aside from getting too close to the hill over the road and falling a good hundred and fifty feet straight down, was walking through a spider web.

“Mosquitoes are hungry,” Seth said.

“I’ve got Off in my backpack. Wait ‘til we get there.”

Through the trees they could see the lights on at the baseball field in the park. Must be another little league game letting out, Connor thought. They usually ended at eight o’clock.

Seth entered the fort first and lit the dozen citronella candles inside. In the enclosed space they lit things up like a sun.

“Here, let’s go outside to spray this on so we don’t light the place on fire.” Connor handed the can of Off to Seth.

“Well, d’uh.”

Both boys ducked back out into the woods for a moment and sprayed themselves with the insect repellent. As they were finishing up, they heard twigs snapping back on the path.

Connor’s chest grew tight. “You think that’s them?”

“It’s either them or the trees are walking. That part always scared me in
The Wizard of Oz
.”

“That’s because you’re a pussy.”

“And you’re a douchebag.”

“You’re a level 18.” Connor burst out laughing.

Seth gasped. “Oh my God, you dick. Not cool. Besides, everybody on that game cheats. They all have modded controllers!”

Seth was referring to the Halo 3 videogame, which they often played on his Xbox console. The game allowed you to rank up depending on how skillful you played. Connor was at 30, but Seth had been stuck on 18 for months. It was a sore spot with the boy. Seth didn’t fare well with real sports, Connor assumed he only signed up for them so they could still hang out together during soccer season. Videogames, however, were another story. Seth was a master at gaming, and could usually beat a game in under a week. Connor was pretty terrible at gaming, he just couldn’t move the characters the way he wanted to. For some reason he excelled at Halo 3’s online gaming system, where he had a knack for anticipating other player’s moves before they made them.

The snapping twigs grew into footsteps that got closer and closer. Someone in the dark swore and made a comment about how they could be at a party. Amanita. The cherry tip of her cigarette appeared in the blackness like a rogue firefly.

A second later the two girls stepped out of the gloom and into the spotlight glow of Seth and Connor’s flashlights. “Hi, Connor,” Nicole said. She was smiling. She had changed into jeans and a t-shirt with a sparkly star on the front. Her hair had been straightened as well. Even in the low light Connor could see the purple eyeshadow dusting her lids and the reflection of her lipgloss. She looked…adult. More adult than he’d ever seen her in school.

Next to her, Amanita, also in jeans and a t-shirt was huffing and picking a leaf out of her hair. “Yeah, hi, Connor. Nice hangout. I walked into a goddamn tree,” she said, bending down and rubbing her knee. She took another puff of her cigarette.

Nicole laughed. “It was pretty funny. Just all of a sudden she fell backwards.”

“I’ve got frigging heels on. It’s not funny.”

“I’ve got some Band Aids in my backpack,” Connor said. “Did you get cut?”

“No. I’m fine. Just leave it alone.” She pushed past them and leaned on the fort. The rickety construction allowed some candlelight from inside to leak out and create a yellow aura around the whole structure. “So this is where you two cuddle up together.”

“We didn’t build it,” Seth offered. “It was here—”

“I know. The whole town knows about the hippies that built it. Looks like it should still have their corpses inside.”

“My Dad says the hippy stuff is just a myth,” Connor added.

“Whatever. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say there’s no fridge in there?”

Connor shook his head. “No. Why would there be?”

Nicole opened her Dooney & Bourke tote—Connor knew the brand name because he’d overheard the girls talking about it at school when Nicole got it for Christmas—and pulled out a pint of Jack Daniels. “We brought something to drink.” She shook the contents in the bottle.