The Vivisectionist (9 page)

They walked in silence for almost twenty minutes before Stephen broke in—“These trails are really pretty cool. We don’t have anything like this.”

Ben turned around and walked backwards to answer—“Yeah, we’ve been exploring almost every day, and we still haven’t nearly seem them all. The quarry is just up here.”

Stephen and Jack followed Ben’s lead to a narrow trail through the woods. Soon they had emerged at the edge of a clearing, on the lip of sandy slope that led to the quarry floor. Half-running and half-sliding, Ben descended first. Stephen followed and Jack came down a bit more gingerly. The floor of the pit was mostly hard-packed sand with a few large rocks strewn about.

“You gotta make sure nobody’s shooting down here before you come down—that’s the only thing,” said Ben. “There’s a target right there.”

“We’ve only seen them once though,” said Jack.

The three boys headed around the corner following four-wheeler tracks from pit to pit. Aside from the occasional broken bottle, the area was fairly un-littered. Soon they approached the quarry-pond, dumped their packs, and sat down to peel off their shoes and socks.

“What do you think—you going all the way in?” asked Jack.

“I’m just going to dip my feet,” replied Ben. “I don’t want to get all wet.”

“I’ve got to at least dip my head in—I’m burning up,” said Stephen.

After they had dipped and splashed, they climbed one of the rock walls and looked down at the quarry.

“You think we could jump off here?” asked Ben.

“Looks dangerous,” said Jack. “You first.”

“This first,” said Stephen as he chucked a large rock down to the water. He was rewarded with a giant splash.

He was ready to throw another when Ben stopped him—“Wait, hold on.” Ben pointed to the east side of the pond where two shapes were coming around a large rock.

Jack whispered—“They look pretty old, seniors maybe.”

As the two figures got a little closer, the boys could make out two older kids wearing jeans and t-shirts. One was smoking and the other held a brown paper bag. Working their way around the far side of the pond, the older boys passed out of sight.

“C’mon, let’s get our stuff,” said Jack.

Nodding in agreement, the boys started down the rocks. Lack of shoes hadn’t seemed like much of an issue on the way up, but on the descent they were hampered by their bare feet.

“Jeez, get going!” ordered Stephen. He was slowed by Jack picking his way down.

Jack shook his left arm out of its sling so he could use both hands to assist his climb. He didn’t put much weight on the arm, but used it to steady his balance. In a couple of minutes Jack and Stephen had made it back to their shoes and packs, but Ben was lagging behind.

“Why are we running?” hissed Ben.

“Why not?” answered Stephen. “Should we just hang around and ask them what good they’re up to at the quarry?”

Ben caught up with them and asked in a normal tone of voice—“What are 
we
up to?” he spread his arms and looked around. “They’re probably just here to swim or target-shoot.”

“Just get your shoes on,” said Jack who was already tying his left boot.

Ben looked off to his right. “Hey guys,” he said.

The boys they had seen were emerging from around a rock.

The smoker was about six-foot two, and wore a black tee shirt that could have been comfortable if it were two sizes larger. Well-worn boots were mostly covered by his frayed jeans. A half-step behind, the guy with the brown paper bag was about as tall, but much thinner.

Smoker took a drag—“Hey. You guys seen a dog here?” he asked. Bag Man chuckled at the question.

“Nope, not today,” said Ben.

“You see one, let me know,” said Smoker. “We’ll be over there,” he pointed to the adjacent sand pit.

“Yeah, no problem,” replied Ben.

When Smoker and Bag Man had walked out of earshot, Ben gloated: “See, what were you guys freaking out about? They were nice enough.”

A shot rang out. Jack, Stephen, and Ben turned to see Smoker pointing a pistol at a target mounted to a rock.

“See? Target shooting,” Ben said.

“Just get your shoes on—let’s get out of here,” said Jack.

Smoker fired again, and the sound was followed by laughter. They could hear Smoker barking orders at Bag Man.

“Yeah, okay,” acquiesced Ben.

Denied their normal exit, the boys had to debate how to exit the quarry. They knew there must be a trail or road on the other side of the pond because the older kids had come from that direction. Stephen headed off and Jack and Ben followed. When they had reached the far side of the pond, they found a path that wound through some scattered brush and led to a dirt road.

“Let’s check the map,” said Stephen when they had reached the road. They moved a few dozen yards past the car they assumed belonged to Smoker and Bag Man. Jack bent over to dig the map from his bag and Ben looked down the road.

The map showed a dotted double line. They assumed it was the road.

Stephen suggested a route: “Looks like if we follow this for a while we can take the train-tracks back to the power lines.”

“Yeah, but that’s kinda far,” said Jack. “Maybe we should go back and try to find a way around those guys.”

“Stray bullets are not my bag,” said Stephen.

Ben was now back towards the car. “Hey guys,” he said. “Come here.”

They approached and saw what he was looking at. In the brush next to the car was a fly-covered dead dog. It was big, a labrador-cross, and it reeked.

“Oh man, I’m gonna hurl,” said Jack. “Is that the dog they were looking for?”

“I don’t think so,” said Ben as he pointed, “look.” Following his line, Stephen and Jack saw that the dog had several bullet-holes in its side.

“They shot it!” said Stephen. “Sick bastards.”

“Seriously, let’s get going,” said Jack.

They turned and headed down the road. Occasionally they heard a shot from the direction of the quarry. Before long a well-traveled path appeared on their left. A quick check of the map and they were confident that it would lead them back to the power lines.

**********

The next morning they rose early and fixed their breakfast in the house so they could be ready to pounce on Jack’s dad. Eager to know the plan, the boys watched television and waited for him to come down the stairs. About nine o’clock, Jack’s dad descended.

“What are you guys doing inside on a day like this?” he asked.

“We’re waiting for you, dad,” said Jack. “We wanted to ask about the fireworks.”

“Well those aren’t until nine tonight. I think we have plenty of time to plan,” his dad replied.

“Yeah, but we just wanted to make sure,” said Jack.

“Okay, well how about this: we’ll go over to the fair at six, get some food there for dinner, and then we’ll go see the fireworks. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Jack. “Can we go over earlier than that though?”

“Sure. Five then?”

“Okay,” said Jack.

“Okay,” His dad continued through the living room and out to the kitchen.

“That went well,” said Stephen. “What now?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack. “Want to play games downstairs?”

Too excited to plan anything extensive, they boys killed time in the rec-room playing video games and watching television. The day was long and it seemed like a chore to have to wait for the evening’s entertainment. Jack’s mom passed through several times and suggested constructive activities that would help them pass the time, but the boys weren’t interested in any of them.

**********

One hundred feet in the air the ride stopped. The boys were packed in, strapped down, and looking up to see the ground.

“Oh, I don’t think I can take another round,” said Ben.

They were on a ride called “Sky Master,” and in the front row. They had spun in big looping circles—faster and slower. The ride would occasionally stop when their car was at the top of the arc and upside-down.

“Seriously, tell that guy I have a hundred bucks if he’ll stop the ride,” pleaded Ben.

“They don’t take hundreds,” laughed Jack.

Ben laughed a bit and then cut himself off. “Don’t make me laugh, or you’ll both be wearing used hot dogs.”

“Gross!” said Stephen. “Who let this guy on?”

“Let me on?” yelled Ben. “You practically begged us to get in. This is your fault.”

Ben reached across Jack to get to Stephen.

Jack held up his hands. “Stop! Stop, it will be okay. I’m sure they just forgot about us,” he giggled. “They’ll be back in a couple of hours and then I’m sure they’ll let us down.”

“Real funny,” said Ben. “You just made the list, buddy.”

“List of what? Guys you’re going to date next?” asked Stephen. “Cuz you’re acting somewhat like a woman.”

The three of them laughed at that and then screamed in unison as the ride began to move again. When the “Sky Master” had finally come to rest, the boys piled out and veered off in separate directions. Ben doubled over and looked at his knees.

“Oh man, you guys should kill me now,” said Ben. “I’m not going to make it.”

Jack grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the crowd. “C’mon, you weakling,” Jack said.

In the midway the sounds of the games and booths were deafening. The boys were jostled by the shifting crowds and blinded by the flashing lights. Stephen led the way to an attraction that housed a game of skill. He set down a dollar and attempted to move a small metal ring down a slowly-spinning contorted metal rod. He missed his mark and his loop touched the rod. A buzzer sounded and his game came to an end.

“Tough luck kid. Next time,” the operator counseled.

“I want to try again,” said Stephen.

“Sure thing,” said the man, and took his dollar.

Stephen was a quick study. He moved the loop confidently down the length of the twisted, spinning rod and didn’t hesitate when he got to the point of his previous error. He made it through the hardest turn and was making the home stretch.

“Hey!” Stephen shouted as the buzzer went off and the game stopped. “I didn’t touch anything! You guys saw.”

“Game doesn’t lie, kid. Next time,” said the attendant.

“Bullshit—that’s bullshit!”

“Hey—watch your mouth, rich-bitch,” said the man. “Take a hike.”

“C’mon, Stephen,” said Ben as he grabbed his friend’s shirt.

“What? He cheated me,” retorted Stephen.

“Whatever. You don’t want those prizes anyway,” said Ben.

Jack started to move away and then returned to grab Stephen’s other arm. Leading him on either side, Jack and Ben escorted Stephen away.

“This whole thing is a fake!” said Stephen. “I’m going to get these guys!”

Moving away from the games, the boys found themselves back near the rides. They compared ticket prices and line lengths and decided to go in the haunted house. The ride was about the size of a double-wide trailer, and had tracks that small cars travelled.

The line moved quickly. At the head of the line, they handed over their tickets to a disinterested attendant. Once on the ride, Stephen hatched his plan.

“You guys know that big box that was next to the expo building?” Stephen asked.

“Yeah, where I put my soda down and that guy yelled at me?” asked Jack.

“Yeah, that’s it,” continued Stephen. “I think that’s the junction box for the power for this side of the fair. Probably the whole midway is run off that.”

“How would you know?” asked Jack.

Ben surprised Jack by answering for Stephen: “His dad is an electrical engineer. He’s always inspecting that kind of stuff.”