Entry One-Hundred and Two

Here you go, avid readers. Another post for "The Bear Brook Massacre".

Mother told me that this is the story I should pursue. Funny, since it is the most morbid of all my current story lines. It's also the one that I know the most about...meaning it is the closest to my life...meaning I lived at Bear Brook with these people...NOT meaning that I have killed anyone.

Moving on.

You might need a reference since it's been a long time since you read my previous entry on The Bear Brook Massacre. The story starts off with me saying that I am in an interrogation room suspected of murder. But this is largely a flashback.

To be clearer, this STARTS back at the interrogation room and then goes backwards to remembering being in the hospital. From there, it goes back FURTHER to the day after the first night after the storm. Confusing? Maybe. But postmodern writing wouldn't be postmodern if it didn't involve a hard to follow timeline. So. Enjoy.

It is NOT polished, but I wanted to get it posted. I am TRYING to make some progress here.

With out anymore introduction, I give you:

Installment Two of the thrilling tale of death-The Bear Brook Massacre

They really mean business, these New Hampshire detectives. They don't have time for fooling around. That must be why it's only been an hour into the "interrogation" and they have asked me what I would like to eat for dinner (an Italian sub? Chinese?). One whole HOUR and they are offering me food. Their heartlessness is breathtaking.

I think they don't have an ounce of a clue what to do with this situation. Southern New Hampshire hasn't SEEN murder of this caliber. My police record is spotless. And honestly, I don't have the look of a mass murderer. But I guess homicidal maniacs look like everyone else (*snicker*-Wednesday Adams…). But I am getting ahead of myself. The first thing they did after finding me was take me to the hospital.

There, the people in soothing colors pumped me full of fluids and nutrients. They treated my injuries, which were surprisingly mild considering the situation. The blood on my hands wasn't even mine. I think I slept for 30 hours straight. When I woke up, the parents were there. So was this guy dressed in a nicely pressed suit. He was chatting it up with the doctor.

Mom was weepy. Dad was calm. The doc. was fussy and the suit was antsy. Anxious. Stony faced as a gargoyle, though. Only his constant fidgeting with his wedding band gave him away. The doctor asked him to leave.

Mom worried, dad consoled, the doctor spoke in crisp concise phrases. And I wondered: why was I here?

You can't blame me. YOU witness the death of 31 of your friends and companions and see how YOU react.

Dr: I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that alright?

Me: *nods*

Mom and Dad: soundless, silent shadows listening in the corner.

Suit man: no doubt pressing his ear to the door.

Dr: How are you feeling?

Me: *pause* tired. A little sore.

Dr: Are you experiencing any serious pain?

Me: *thinks, then shakes head* No. Not really.

Dr: Do you know how you got here?

Me: *mouth twitching* The ambulance?

No one smiled. Not a good time for humor, I guess.

Dr: *clears throat* Do you know why you are here?

Me:*looks at bandages, thinks, pauses*

Why couldn't it have been multiple choice?

Me: *hesitation* I had some kind of accident?

Dr: *looks at parents*

Parents: *look at doctor*

Dr: Can you be more specific than that?

I began to feel uneasy. There was an obvious lapse in memory here. And I didn't want to admit it.

Me: I don’t understand.

Dr: *Pauses. Thinks* what is the last thing you remember?

Drat.

Me: The woods. Bear Brook State Park. I've been working there.

Dr: *nods* yes. Anything more specific?

Mom started to whisper urgently to Dad. I couldn't make it out but it sounded anxious.

Me: *pushing bad thoughts away. Far away* The storm. There was a big storm. It knocked the power out.

There was more than that. I knew it. My brain knew it. And before I could push them back further, dark and bloody memories started to seep in. I closed my eyes and pushed harder.

Dr: Nothing after that? You don't know how you got your injuries? You remember nothing of the past three weeks?

Me: *Clenching hands and eyelids shut* Three weeks?

Had it been that short a time?

Me: *heart racing* No. Nope. Nothing.

The tears started to come.

Me: Nothing happened. Nothing. They're all there waiting for me with their smiles and their jokes. I left them there and they're waiting. Nothing happened….Nothing….

And just like that I had no idea what I was saying but words were coming out through sobs. The room went all drippy and hazy. My face was inexplicably wet, my throat raw. Mom said words I couldn't hear and moved out of the shadows to embrace me.

We were like that for a while. Me babbling about how nothing happened. That they were all waiting…and Mom holding he in her arms. But I took several deep breaths and the room came into focus again.

Me: They're all dead…

***

The first was awful. Made worse simply because it WAS the first. Most of us had never felt the loss of a friend let alone SEEN death.

It was the first evening after the storm. The day itself has been chilly and gray. We'd all done our best to stay occupied. Our efforts were hindered by that fact that we couldn't leave. Usually, a power outage would have meant a fleet of gray 12 passenger vans could be seen driving out of the park and towards Manchester, or the movie theater in Hooksett. Not this time. We played cards, read books, cooked over the gas stove, and generally felt bored.

When night crept in, things got infinitely worse. Not being able to see anything in front of you can put a damper on things. Most of us went to bed early.

Not Steven, as we discovered the following morning.

The dawn brought new sunlight and the promise of a new day. Maybe the power would come back. Or at least someone could come to remove the fallen tree. A few of us volunteered to walk to the campground and survey the damage-see if there was anything we could do to speed up the process of cleaning things up. Lulu, Max, and I ate a quick, cold breakfast, hitched up our boot laces, and trekked up the road. We picked up the smaller fallen limbs and tossed them to the side of the road as we went. It felt good to breathe the air, to walk about. The three of us chatted about our plans after Bear Brook and were pretty cheery by the time we made it to the start of the campground.

There it was. The giant behemoth tree. It was just past the gate that kept the campers out of the SCA camp. Sharp branches jutted every which way. I know it sounds crazy, but I remember thinking that the tree looked like it died an agonizing death. We were so busy marveling at the size of the thing that none of immediately saw the form slumped against the horizontal trunk. But there he was: his blonde hair matted with dark crimson, a gray sweater we all recognized as AmeriCorps issued, and blue jogging shorts. The exposed part of his legs glistened with dew in the bright fall morning.

And protruding through his chest, surrounded by a ring of red, was a branch. As if the beech had stretched forth her hand to rip his heart out. Even then, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom flashed involuntarily in my mind.

I was the first to speak.

Me: Steven?

It was a tentative call. Questioning. As if I wasn't sure if it was him or not.

Lulu: Oh my God…

We all rushed forward, propelled by invisible pinball flippers.

Me: Steven!!

It was a scream that time. Why wasn't he answering?

We crowded around his form. Max stretched forth his hand to take a pulse at his neck.

Me: Don't…

The other words caught in my throat. His eyes were open. Dead and staring. Glimmering with a final laugh. His mouth was slack. A stream of blood had dried at the corner of it.

I wish I could say that I fell to my knees and bellowed a cry of grief. Or that I sobbed and called Steven's name as if he could hear me. But death is not as dramatic as it looks in he movies. It's cold, merciless, rank, and filed with bile. And so my breakfast found it's way out of my stomach and back up the way it came. My legs crumpled and I was sick on the ground at the dead Steven's feet.

Max: *Beep* (yes, I censor my own writing).

He came over to where I sat, vomit on one of my legs. He touched my shoulder. I could feel his hand trembling. Lulu just stared at the body.

Max: We have to tell someone. Get some help…

Lulu: *Nods blankly*

Me: *silence*

Max: Sarah, can you get up?

Me: *Shakes head*

Max *Thinks* Lulu, you stay here with Sarah. I'll go and get some help.

Lulu: *Nods blankly*

Me: *Silence*

I could hear the gravel crunch as he bolted away. I listened until everything was silent again. A breeze blew through the trees. I looked up. They were on fire, the trees. Blazing in red, gold, orange…

My HEAD was on fire. The wind became a roaring in my ears. I could hear Lulu's breath catching in her throat. She came to sit next to me.

My back was to the body, but I could feel his weight. A dead hand clutched my shoulder, begging me to turn and look.

I was shaking.

A mantra marched through my head. It went something like this: Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead…

It was like a blinking light at some terrible small town intersection. And all the roads were blocked. There would be no more life with Steven. I was stuck at this flashing light. I tried to comprehend what all this meant, but my mind kept coming up as a static TV screen with that one flashing word.

DEAD.

Who knew how long we were there. After a time, Max returned. By now, both Lulu and I were weeping. No sobs, only silent tears we couldn't seem to stop. With Max were the 4 leaders. All looking ashen faced. Marlee and Sue wore identical stunned faces, complete with open mouths sagging with all the words they couldn't bring themselves to say. Jeremy had turned away from the scene and was covering his mouth with his hand. Mike could only stare.

I looked at all of them imploringly. Willing them to say something that would make it alright. They offered nothing. After a time, Marlee and Sue came to me and Lulu. I felt a hand on my shoulder and another grip my arm. Someone was hoisting me up. I heard something which could have been words but I didn't understand them. I found that I was able to stand and the hands touching me became embracing arms. There were more soft words and then I was being led carefully away from that place. My legs moved, my eyes cleared a little, and I could hear again.

Somehow, there were birds singing.

Sue, Marlee, Lulu, and I all took the road back to the lodge. It was amazing to me that the sun was still shining and that light it cast was a beautiful silver and gold color.

How was it that things were not crashing down around us?

Then Sue broke the silence and voiced what we were all thinking.

Sue: I can't believe that he's gone. How did this happen??

***

There. Another entry, another day. Please let me know what you think. Especially about the dialogue and how it worked in that format. Should I not do it that way? Is it clear? Confusing? What about the timeline. If I hadn't explained it, would you understand? And what about the different tenses of the story. Do THOSE make sense? I have a problem with tense and making it consistent with the occurrence of events in the story in reference to the present. And then using that same tense each time with each different part.

Any other suggestions? I am a novice and would love to know what you think.

Sincerely,

The often busy, and slightly twisted author.