The Wildman

Chapter SIX

Morning Walk





Jeff didn’t feel very rested. An angled beam of sunlight shot across the dining hall floor, casting long, blue shadows over the worn wood and shining directly into Jeff’s face.

He might have nodded off a little, but he had never fallen into a deep sleep. Images from his moonlight walk around the campground mixed with other, more unsettling images that had something to do with the Indian demon Hobomock and the lonely ghost of Jimmy Foster. All of this left Jeff feeling sad and lonely and maybe a little bit frightened as he began to stir.

But Evan hadn’t lied about one thing. He did have a fantastic breakfast planned. The sounds and smells of frying eggs and bacon got him and everyone else stirring just as the sun was rising.

“Up ‘n at ‘em, boys and girls,” Evan called out when the other guys started to shift about on the floor, moaning and grunting. Mike let a loud, sputtering fart that got everyone laughing.

“You know, I learned something,” Fred said.

“What’s that?” Mike asked.

“That sleeping on the floor just ain’t what it used to be.” He groaned as he sat up with his legs splayed out in front of him, and, leaning back, drove a knuckled fist into the small of his back and rubbed. “I didn’t sleep for shit.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” Tyler said, scowling at him. “You were snoring louder than a goddamned chain saw.”

“No way.”

“Way. You kept me awake practically the whole night.”

Jeff smiled at the bickering, thinking how they sound exactly how they sounded in Tent 12 thirty-five years ago. He sighed and shook his head.

“All three of you were sleeping like little babies,” he said. “And Tyler—you shouldn’t be accusing anyone of snoring … not the way you were sawing wood last night.”

“Bullshit! I don’t snore.”

Evan caught Jeff’s eye and smiled, then turned back to his cooking. He slid a pile of bacon onto a platter lined with paper towels and then started cooking another batch. Three wire racks leaned against the inner wall of the fireplace above the coals, each with six pieces of bread in them, toasting. They were already a nice golden brown.

It was Tyler’s idea to go down to the lake and wash up before breakfast. Everyone except Jeff and Evan went. Ten minutes later, they came back, their feet covered with sand, their hair stringy and dripping, and their teeth chattering like machines.

“F*ckin’ invigorating is what that is,” Mike said, shivering as he danced up and down on his toes and hurriedly pulled on a bulky sweatshirt. The logo read: SOME DAYS IT’S NOT EVEN WORTH CHEWING THROUGH THE RESTRAINTS. It made Jeff chuckle.

In the brightening light of day, so much of what Jeff had been thinking and worrying about last night now seemed totally irrelevant. He could almost convince himself he had been asleep and dreamed his moonlit walk around the campgrounds. It was already fading into a distant memory. Still, he was left with a vague sense of disquiet, and he wished he could pinpoint what was causing it. He vowed to try not to think too much about it today. They were here to have fun, not mope about and get suspicious about everyone and their motives.

Typically, Evan took charge of all the cooking and refused any offers of help until it was time to set everything out. He cooked the eggs sunny-side up in a huge cast iron skillet that Jeff thought must have been left behind when the camp closed. It certainly looked like something old Herbie and Ben-the camp cooks—would have used. As soon as the first bunch of eggs was done, Evan started another while urging the guys to dig in.

“You gonna eat, too?” Jeff asked Evan. He never ate much for breakfast and was waiting for the second round, thinking there would be less bacon grease than in the first batch. He had to watch his cholesterol these days.

“I’m the host,” Evan said with a wide smile. His eyes shined like quicksilver in the early morning light. “I won’t eat until all of my guests are satisfied.”

Tyler, Fred, and Mike apparently had no qualms about digging in without him. Muttering approval, they sat down cross-legged on the floor and ate and drank with gusto. In the corner by the kitchen door was a huge aluminum industrial urn filled with steaming coffee. Jeff was surprised he hadn’t noticed the smell of it brewing when he had been lying there awake.

Maybe he had slept a little. He still didn’t feel rested.

“So,” Tyler said as he tore off a piece of toast and mopped up egg yolk from his plate. “What’s on tap for today?”

“Whatever we want,” Evan said with a shrug. He turned his attention to the sizzling eggs and flipped them over.

“How about first we take a tour of the old camp grounds,” Fred said.

“Gonna have to, to work off these calories,” Mike said before stuffing some more bacon into his mouth. “I haven’t eaten like this in … years.”

“Gotta watch that cholesterol,” Tyler said.

“F*ck cholesterol. I gotta die of something.”

Jeff caught the quick glance Evan shot at him and wondered if there was any meaning behind it.

“No, seriously,” Fred said after swallowing what was in his mouth.

Tyler chuckled and said, “My wife’s got me on this low fat diet. She’s got me eating so much goddamned fiber I practically shit sawdust.”

Jeff didn’t eat until Evan did. They shared the last batch of bacon, eggs, toast, orange juice, and coffee while the other guys lazed around, slurping their second cups of coffee. Fred slipped outside to have a cigarette on the front steps even though Evan and everyone else said it was okay if he wanted to smoke in the building. Fred said he was used to being ostracized and went outside anyway.

Once everyone was finished with the meal, they carried their plates and utensils down to the lakeside to wash them. Jeff volunteered to clean the frying pan, which was a big, black, heavy piece of cast iron. He dipped it into the water a few times, watching a rainbow swirl of grease fan out across the surface. Then he took a handful of sand and started scrubbing it. The grating sound set his teeth on edge.

“Make sure you dry that, too,” Evan said, watching him carefully as though the frying pan was a prized possession. “That’s cast iron. It’ll rust if you don’t dry it completely.”

Jeff was tempted to tell him he already knew that, but he let it drop. He didn’t like the way he still bristled at Evan, resentful at feeling as though he was bossing him around like he had when they were little. Kneeling beside the water’s edge with tiny waves lapping the sandy shore, he stared over to the far shore of the mainland as he scrubbed. The sun had long since cleared the horizon. The sky was a deep, rich blue that hurt his eyes to look at. Out on the lake, the water was gray and riffled by the wind. It looked like corrugated steel. The camp was in a sheltered cove, so they were protected from the westerly wind.

“Gonna be a chilly day,” Mike said as he placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the expanse of water. “Glad it never got this cold when we were campers.”

Tyler sniffed. “Oh, I remember nearly freezing my ass off some nights.”

“I never got cold,” Mike said.

“That’s because you used to take the extra blankets off everyone’s bunks and use them,” Fred said

Mike ignored him as he looked up and down the beach. There was a curious look on his face, almost as if he was expecting to see someone else.

“So the docks and swimming area were over there, right?” He pointed to the stretch of sand about a hundred yards down the beach from the dining hall. He sighed and shook his head. “It’s funny how it still looks exactly the same, isn’t it?”

“But smaller,” Tyler said. “Everything looks a lot closer than I remember.”

“Maybe, but I mean—all the trees, even the underbrush looks exactly like it did back then. I wouldn’t be surprised to see kids, running around, jumping into the water.”

“Not in this weather,” Jeff said. “You couldn’t pay me enough to go swimming.”

Evan snorted. “You would if you had to.”

Still lazily scrubbing the pan, Jeff turned and eyed his friend. Once again, he had a little twinge of suspicion about Evan. He wished he would stop feeling this way.

“Well,” Jeff said with a smile, “I’m just glad I don’t have to.”

“I wish we’d thought to bring canoes or kayaks,” Fred said. “It’d be cool to paddle out around the island and check it out.”

“We can use the motor boat,” Tyler suggested. He turned to Evan. “What do you say we take a little cruise later today and check things out? After all, you are trying to get us to buy into your development, aren’t you?”

For an instant, Evan looked at them with a strange, distracted expression on his face as if he didn’t quite understand the question. Then he smiled and said, “Of course I am, but this isn’t a sales weekend. We’re just here to have fun.”

“Yeah … right,” Mike said with a sniffing laugh.

“No. Seriously.” Evan looked like he was getting angry. “I mean, once the project gets going and all—sure, if any of you guys want to buy in, I’d be more than happy to work something out, but that’s not the point of us being here this weekend.”

“It’s not?” Jeff said. “Then what is the point?”

His voice cut the morning stillness like the crack of a whip, making all of his friends turn and look at him as if he’d said the exact wrong thing. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, he wished he could think of some witty rejoinder, but everyone seemed to have caught the sharp note of accusation in his voice.

“The point …?” Evan echoed, rubbing his chin as he looked first at Jeff and then shifted his gaze out over the water. “The point is to reconnect with old friends. To think about the summers we spend here. For me, at least, they were probably the best times of my life.”

“Amen to that,” Mike said.

“I’ve always felt a special attachment to this place. That’s why, when it came up on the market, I snapped it up as soon as I could.”

“For old time’s sake?” Tyler said, sounding a bit doubtful himself.

“Yeah. For old time’s sake.” Evan turned and eyed them, one by one. “And that’s the only reason I dragged your sorry asses out here. So we could remember the fun times we had as kids.”

There was a chorus of murmured agreement, but Jeff couldn’t ignore the irksome feeling inside him, telling him no matter what Evan did or said, there was something else … some other motive just below the surface. He stood up, the heavy frying pan in his hand, weighing down one side of his body.

Jesus … forget about it … will you? he told himself. Relax and enjoy the weekend.

* * *

They spend the rest of the morning wandering around the campgrounds as a group, reminiscing about which buildings were where, and where the tents had been pitched, and all the things they had done as campers. Jeff was surprised by some of the memories the others had. Evan didn’t say much, but some events that were significant to Tyler or Mike or Fred were things Jeff barely remembered if at all.

When they approached the old baseball field, which was now choked with underbrush and scrawny swamp maples, Mike couldn’t stop exclaiming about how small the area looked to him now. The maples had already lost their leaves, so they had a fairly good view of the expanse of the field.

“Come on,” he said, looking around in utter amazement with his mouth hanging open. “This can’t possibly be it. It was so much bigger.”

“No,” Jeff said. “You were a lot smaller.”

“I know that,” Mike said, rubbing the sagging bulge of his belly, “but—come on. Look at this! The service road’s still over there.” He pointed to the remains of an old road that wound through the woods toward where their tents used to be. “And you can still see the path going down to the beach. It went by sheds where we kept the sports equipment. And there’s the brook out in center field. It’s still there.” He sighed and shook his head as though deeply saddened. “But how the hell did we ever play baseball on such a tiny field?”

“Like I said … you … we all were a lot smaller back then.” Jeff was suddenly convinced Mike’s weight was an issue for him. He didn’t want to say anything that might hurt his feelings, so he quickly tried to change the subject. “Remember how you used to belt the ball into the woods just about every time you were at bat?”

“I can’t remember how many times I played centerfield and would have to fish the ball out of the brook,” Fred said.

“I did have a pretty good swing, didn’t I?” Mike smiled, looking satisfied with the memory.

But it wasn’t all good memories.

When they started down the old dirt road, heading toward the tent sites, Fred started bitching about how they used to have “quiet time” where they spent the hour after lunch in their tent before they could go swimming or out to play ball. This was when they were supposed to take naps or write letters home or read quietly. Jeff used to read Mad magazine during rest hour. One thing they all agreed on was that rest hour was the most boring part of their day.

“That whole thing about waiting an hour before swimming. That’s bullshit, you know,” Mike said. “The counselors just did that so they could have some free time instead of watching us.”

“Can’t say as I blame them?” Tyler said. “I mean—think about it. We must have been one helluva handful for them. None of them were much older than us. How old do you think Mark was?”

“I did the math when I read his obituary,” Evan said with a curiously flat tone in his voice. “When he died, the newspaper said he was twenty-nine years old, so he would have been nineteen years old the last summer we were here.”

“Twenty-nine.” Mike whistled as he lowered his head and shook it. “Jesus, man. It’s just so weird to think a guy as cool as Mark is dead.”

“He died so young,” Fred said.

“We always looked up to him,” Tyler added.

“I sure as hell didn’t,” Evan said. There was a sudden sharp bitterness in his voice that gave everyone pause. He bent down and picked up a dead branch and, gripping it tightly, swatted at the branches that lined the road. “I always thought he was kind of an a*shole.”

“No way,” Jeff said, and simultaneously Tyler said, “Really?”

“Yeah. Really,” Evan swatted dead leaves off a nearby branch. “Especially after my—after Jimmy died. I thought he—”

Before he went on, he caught himself and, taking a breath, looked back and forth at his friends while shaking his head. He was biting down on his lower lip as though struggling to stop himself from saying more.

“What the hell did Mark have to do with Jimmy dying?” Tyler asked, obviously not wanting to let it drop. “He was just as freaked out as the rest of us.”

When Evan turned his head quickly and glared at Tyler, Jeff caught the flash of rage in his eyes. For a split second, he was afraid Evan was going to whack Tyler with his stick.

“I dunno,” Evan finally said. He sounded calmer, but Jeff had the impression it was forced. “I mean—he was our goddamned counselor, wasn’t he? That means Jimmy and all of us were his responsibility. Right?”

“Well … yeah. Sure,” Tyler said with a shrug. “But I don’t see where—”

“But nothing!” Evan’s anger boiled up, making his face flush so he looked like he had a sunburn. He gripped the branch he was holding so tightly his knuckles turned bone-white, and his arm started to tremble.

Evan took a quick, noisy breath and, obviously aware that his outburst had surprised his friends, tried to get control of himself. “I … my whole life, I’ve blamed him for what happened,” he said. “That … that’s all.”

“Not directly, I hope,” Mike said.

The road narrowed until it was just a path, and they started walking in single file with Mike in the lead. He had to turn and look back at Evan, who was walking between Fred and Tyler with Jeff bringing up the rear.

Evan started to say something else, but whatever it was, he couldn’t get it out. The only sounds were the snap of branches underfoot and, off in the distance, the solitary cry of a blue jay. Finally, Evan said, “Okay. Maybe not directly. But someone sure killed him.”

Fred stopped short in his tracks, turned, and faced Evan, openly sneering now as he shook his head.

“There’s no way,” he said. “No one killed Jimmy. ’Least not the way I heard it. My parents said Jimmy drowned.”

Everyone else had stopped, and Evan regarded Fred with a long, cold, unnerving stare.

“Then what was all this stuff about his throat being slit?” Evan turned to face Jeff. In a flash, he pointed his stick at Jeff and said, “You saw it, Jeff. Right?” His voice was low, and it quavered.

Flummoxed by the sudden accusation, all Jeff could do was shrug.

Why was Evan getting so upset about what had happened to Jimmy?

Jeff wished again that he had declined Evan’s invitation to come out here this weekend. Digging up old shit like this just wasn’t healthy for any of them.

“Well …?” Evan said, all but leering at Jeff. He was still pointing the branch at him, and when he took a few steps closer, Jeff cringed, convinced he was going to whack him with it.

“To tell the God’s honest truth,” Jeff finally said, his voice quavering, “I have no idea what I saw. All I know is, I was scared out of my goddamned mind.”

“But you said—” Evan’s voice cracked with barely repressed rage. “You said in the tent that night his throat was cut right across the windpipe.”

“I said that?”

Jeff squinted and shook his head as though he was having trouble remembering. He wished the conversation hadn’t taken this turn, but somehow it seemed inevitable, as if this was what the whole weekend was really all about.

“You know, I honestly don’t remember telling anyone that.”

“I don’t see how you could remember anything,” Tyler said. “You were probably traumatized, seeing one of your friends dead. Did you ever have to see a shrink about it?”

Jeff regarded him steadily for a second or two and then shook his head, grateful to see a trace of sympathy in Tyler’s expression.

“No,” he finally said, “but I was freaked out. It was the first time I ever saw a dead person.” As the image rose in his mind, it took a great effort to keep his voice from cracking. “I was pretty scared.”

“But that … that’s not the f*cking point,” Evan said in a low, trembling voice. Jeff shied away from him, still wondering if he was going to take a whack at him with the stick. “The point is, Jimmy died, and someone had to be responsible for it.” He took a sharp, whistling breath. “All I’m just saying is, I still blame Mark Bloomberg for what happened.”

“Well … I dunno,” Tyler said, pursing his lip like he was about to whistle. “Maybe it was, you know—like everyone said—just an accident.”

Tiny flecks of foam dotted Evan’s lips, and his eyes were wide and bloodshot. Sunlight coming through bare branches overhead cast stripes of light and shadow across his face. Veins pulsed in his neck, and Jeff was suddenly worried that his friend might be having a seizure or stroke or something. The last thing he wanted was to have to make an emergency trip to the mainland to the emergency room. He wished they could just continue their walk and be quiet for a while, but when he looked down the trail and saw the old infirmary, the memory of his late night walk out here last night only ratcheted up the tension inside him. He wished they would turn around and go back the way they had come, but Mike—still in the lead—was already walking straight toward the infirmary.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe this!” he called out as he broke into a run, heading toward the building.

Jeff and Evan exchanged glances, and Jeff couldn’t help but wonder if it had been Evan he had seen out here last night. If it was, he wanted to know what he had been doing out here.

The others followed Mike, approaching the infirmary from the back. There were three windows on the back, but all of them were boarded over. The shingles on the roof, facing north, were curled up and carpeted with moss. The eaves were lined with numerous old mud wasp nests. The day was chilly, but two or three wasps were outside one of the nests, buzzing as they moved their wings to warm themselves.

As they got closer to the infirmary, Jeff noticed something else he hadn’t noticed last night. A powerful stench of sewage hung in the air. Maybe the wind had been strong enough to blow it away from him last night and they were downwind now, but as he came close to the building, the smell was so strong it gagged him.

“Jesus! Did something crawl under there and die?” he asked as he waved his hand in front of his face.

“Yeah,” Evan said, wrinkling his nose. “Let’s steer clear of this place. It smells like the cesspool backed up.”

“Hold on,” Mike said as he went around to the front of the building with the others following. “I wanna take a look inside.”

“Remember Mrs. Stott?” Fred said. He smirked as he held his hands up to his chest like he was cupping two large grapefruits. “Man, she had the rack, didn’t she?”

Mike turned to him with a frown. “You know, you’re one sick son of a bitch. She was—how old?”

“No. Seriously,” Fred said. Jeff thought this was the first time all weekend Fred had shown even the least bit of animation. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember how big her tits were.”

“Hell, no,” Mike said, still scowling. “She was an old lady back then. Probably old enough to be your goddamned grandmother.”

“Yeah,” Jeff added. “And she’s probably dead by now, rest in peace.”

Fred shrugged, looking suddenly nervous, like he’d said or done something wrong. “I was— … I’m just saying …”

Without another word, Mike approached the small porch with the missing steps. The others were a few steps behind. Mike stopped short when he looked up and saw the padlock on the door. Jeff saw that, as he had suspected last night, the lock looked brand new. Mike pulled on it, then in frustration slammed it against the door.

“Shit! Why would anyone lock this?” He turned to Evan. “You own this place. Did you lock this?”

“Huh …? No, I … ah … I don’t know anything about this,” Evan said.

Jeff had the distinct impression he was lying.

“Maybe—you know, the surveyors who were out here last summer to start locating the house sites left some equipment in there and locked it,” Evan said. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think we should be messing around out here.”

“Maybe I can see in one of the windows,” Mike said, ignoring what Evan had said. “I just wanna have a look inside.” He glanced at Jeff and said, “Remember that time you got poison ivy on your balls?”

“I didn’t get it on my balls,” Jeff said.

“The hell you didn’t. You were scratching your balls something fierce.”

“Maybe in your dreams,” Jeff said. He cringed the instant he said it because he realized how obvious it was, to him, at least, that Mike was gay. He didn’t want to say or do anything to hurt his feelings or piss him off. “I never had poison ivy on my balls,” he added weakly.

“No. Just in your crotch,” Tyler said, obviously trying to lighten the mood, but Mike scowled at Jeff for a moment until he finally shook his head as if it wasn’t worth the effort to argue any more.

After inspecting the locked door again, he jumped down off the porch and walked over to the boarded up windows to the right of the front door. Standing on tiptoes, he peered between the cracks. Obviously frustrated, he wedged his fingers under the edge of one of the boards nailed over the window and tried to pry it back. In spite of the years, the planks were nailed down tightly, and they didn’t yield. Jeff walked up closer to the building and noticed that the nails in the wood—like the lock on the front door—looked new. They certainly hadn’t been out here rusting away for the last thirty-five years.

“You haven’t even checked out what’s in here?” Jeff asked, turning to Evan.

Evan shook his head sharply as he stood back, keeping his distance from the building. His face was pinched as if he smelled or tasted something nauseating.

“What’s the point?” he said feebly. “It’s all coming down in the spring, anyway.”

Jeff shrugged as if he could just about care, but something there was about this place that bothered him. Something strange was going on here that he just couldn’t figure out. Not knowing what it was irritated him no end, and he was more determined than ever to find out.

“How ‘bout we take that boat ride now?” Evan said, his voice sounding suddenly bright and chipper. Jeff had the distinct impression he was trying to distract them in order to draw them away from the infirmary.

“Is this where we get the sales pitch?” Tyler asked.

Evan shook his head in vigorous denial.

“Absolutely not,” he said. “I promise not to mention the development at all. We’ll just cruise around a bit. I wish I told you guys to bring your fishing gear. Do any of you fish?”

“My wife and I have a camp up in the Sierras,” Tyler said. “I drown a few worms now and again. I thought of bringing my gear but decided not to hassle with it on the plane.”

Looking like he was barely paying attention to any of them, Evan turned and started walking down the path that led to the dining hall. Tyler, Fred and Mike followed a few steps behind him, but Jeff, still unsatisfied, lagged behind. He wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of going out onto the lake … at least not now. The day was colder than he liked, and if the wind picked up once they were out of the shelter of the island, they’d freeze their butts off.

Besides, he had to find out what was going on in the old infirmary that someone felt needed to be locked up.

Was it just his imagination, or could Evan be hiding something out here? He obviously didn’t want anyone to hang around out here.

And what was with that smell?

In front of the building, he could no longer smell it, but out back, for a second or two the stench of raw sewage had been almost too much to handle.

“Hey! You coming?” Evan called out. He and the others were waiting at a bend in the trail.

Jeff considered for a moment, wishing he could lag behind a little longer, but if Evan was hiding something out here, he wouldn’t let him dally. He’d find some way to drag him away. With a sigh, Jeff started out after them, but when he was a few feet from the building, he heard something—a sound from inside.

It wasn’t much.

Just a single, loud thump like what he had heard last night, and it had definitely come from inside the building.

He stopped in his tracks and, turning, looked back at the old building. He was poised, waiting for the sound to be repeated, but all he could hear was the light breeze blowing through the pines around the building. Then Evan, now out of sight around the bend in the trail, called out.

“Come on! Boat’s leaving with or without you.”

“How about without me,” Jeff whispered, but he knew Evan wouldn’t leave without him. The one thing his friend didn’t want was to leave him here alone to his own devices.

He waited a few more seconds to see if the sound came again, but it didn’t. He didn’t know what might have caused it, but he was determined, one way or another, to find out.

Jeff looked longingly down the trail. His friends were long out of sight. He knew he wasn’t obligated to go wherever they went. He could take time for himself if he wanted. That was at least part of the point of being here. Let them take their damned boat ride. Once they were out on the water and out of sight, he wanted to come back and take a more careful look around.

Clenching his fists, he started jogging down the trail after his friends. The sun was warm on his face, and the cold air was bracing as it washed into and out of his lungs. As he ran, he thought about all the times when he was a kid and had run along this same trail. It was weird how familiar and yet so foreign it all felt.

Without his friends around, he played a game in his mind and, for a short while at least, he was a little boy once again, playing in the woods. He imagined he was a wild man—like Tarzan or an Indian brave—running through the primeval forest, tracking food … or enemies. A powerful feeling of primitive energy infused him, and he was disappointed when he rounded a turn in the trail and saw his friends up ahead. In an instant, the illusion of being someone he knew he wasn’t evaporated.

No, he thought, holding onto the image of a younger, stronger, more primitive version of himself. These are enemies who have invaded my sacred land … and they must be stopped … They must die …

Jeff was amused to realize how, just below the surface, there was still a little boy inside him, but then he wondered—

Is it a little boy … or is it something else … is it something more primal?

Once again, he found himself thinking about the stories Mark used to tell them about Hobomock, the Indian demon who tricked enemies and friends alike, and caused their destruction. And as he ran to catch up with Evan and the others, he wondered if that might not be what was happening here.

He felt protective of this island and this camp and the memories of what it used to be.

Maybe the hostility or edge of agitation he was feeling about Evan was simply because he didn’t like what was going to happen out here.

Maybe he didn’t want civilization in the form of Evan’s development to come here and destroy the forest and beach and camp the way he remembered them.

Jeff was more winded than he thought he should be when he finally caught up with his friends. He signaled for them to stop as he leaned forward with both hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“What took you so long?” Tyler asked.

“Stop to take a crap in the woods?” Fred said.

Mike sniffed and, under his breath, said, “Hope you didn’t get poison ivy on your balls again.”

But Evan regarded Jeff with a long, steady stare that Jeff found bothersome … so much so he couldn’t look his friend in the eyes for long. It wasn’t that he was afraid of what he might see inside Evan; he didn’t want Evan to see what was inside of him.

“No … I—ah …” It irritated him that he was still panting so heavily. “I thought I … heard something … in the infirmary, and … was just … checking it out.”

He looked up as he said this to see if he could read Evan’s reaction, but Evan regarded him steadily with a blank expression.

“Probably a raccoon or skunk knocking around in there,” Evan said. “Haven’t you noticed? They’re all over the place.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “Probably.” He hawked up a wad of mucous and spit into the dust at his feet.

Evan stretched out his left arm and glanced at his wristwatch.

“It’s already almost noon. What say we rustle up some lunch before we take our boat ride.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tyler said.

“Yeah. I could use a cold one,” Mike said.

Everyone else nodded their agreement … everyone, that is, except Jeff, who was still wondering how he was going to get away from everyone else so he could go back to the infirmary and check it out.

There was something inside there, and he wasn’t going to rest until he found out what it was.