Ocean in the Sea Page 20

  Garth Smithmaster cornered him in the locker room. “I know it wasn’t you, Herman.” Lewis felt himself shoved into the corner. Only two years older than him, Garth’s size and strength were far greater. Lewis was what his father referred to as a ‘late bloomer.’ Garth Smithmaster was not. The cold metal of the locker baskets pressed into his spine.

  “I know it was Jacobson,” hissed Garth. “He screwed us both, and he’s been talking about how he stole those pills from my father’s dresser. I didn’t even want to invite that bastard to my birthday party. My Mom made me, and now my father’s fucked. They put him on desk duty. He’s gonna get fired. There’s gonna be an investigation. My uncle’s gonna get fucked too. My whole family’s screwed.” Garth gave Lewis a final shove and stepped back, folding his arms and blocking Lewis from leaving. “I want payback, and you’re gonna help me.” He raised his finger. “You’re in this too.”

  “I don’t want to be in it,” said Lewis.

  “You’ll help me,” insisted Garth. “You think your life sucks now? If you don’t help me, I’ll make your life a living Hell. I heard you got a cat, Lewis. You like your cat?”

  Lewis widened his eyes. “You wouldn’t…”

  Garth lowered his head and grinned a dark conspiratorial smile. “I’ve done it before,” he hissed. “Remember that little moron first grader, Heather? Remember how someone made her watch while they hung her cat by the tail and burned it alive in front of her?”

  “You didn’t.” Not even Garth would be that evil. He had to be lying, but someone had done it. Maybe… Lewis cringed.

  “Well that’s what I’m gonna do to your cat, dickwad. Unless you do exactly what I say. You used to hang with Jacobson. You know how he gets home through the forest?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well, today, when you come home, you’re gonna go with Jacobson. You know where the big rock is? The one the Seniors paint their year on?”

  Lewis swallowed and nodded.

  “There’s a path splits off to the left. Goes to an old tree house. Lead Jacky there.”

  “How?”

  Garth’s face crinkled angrily. “I don’t fucking care how, dumbass. Think of something. Make up a story. Just DO it. I’ll be there waiting, and if you don’t show up, then your cat is gonna go missing.” Garth gave him a shove and marched off. “REMEMBER, HERMAN!” he called over his shoulder.

  Through the rest of the school day, Lewis couldn’t get Garth’s threat out of his head. Other than his parents, there was nothing Lewis loved more than his cat. Kitty-Kitty was always there for him, no matter how bad things got. He felt sick to his stomach. And the more he thought about it, the more he could justify helping Garth. Jacky did deserve to have his ass beat. After everything Lewis had done for Jacky, he’d picked Lewis’s desk to put those pills in. The Principal had given him a week of detention, but nothing had happened to Jacky. Lewis’s parents had been ashamed that he’d steal from someone’s house. And even though Lewis protested his innocence, none of the adults believed him. Not even his parents.

  But the other kids believed Jacky. The other kids thought Jacky was cool because he’d got away with it. No one had liked Jacky before, but now a lot of kids wanted to talk with him. And Jacky loved the attention. Lewis had heard him bragging about how he’d stolen the pills and put it in ‘that retard Lewis’s’ desk. Two birds with one stone, Jacky had laughed. Lewis still couldn’t understand it. Why him!? He wasn’t Jacky’s enemy. They were friends!

  By the end of the day, Lewis was more angry than scared. He no longer cared about Garth’s threats. He wanted revenge. When the last bell rang, he waited outside on the trail Jacky always took. When they saw each other, Jacky’s eyes glinted with a brief flicker of fear, but then he straightened his shoulders. “Hey, Retard,” he said to Lewis.

  “Uh… hey, Jacky,” replied Lewis with a tiny hint of a smile. Not too much. He didn’t want Jacky to be suspicious. “It’s been a while,” he added. “I don’t want to be enemies anymore, alright? Can we just forget the whole thing?”

  “I’ve got a lot of friends now.” Jacky shrugged and took to the path.

  Lewis followed him.

  “Hey, man, quit following me.”

  “You don’t own the trail,” Lewis shot back. “It’s a free world, Jacobson.”

  “Yeah, well, if you bug me, I’ll have some of my real friends kick your ass.”

  Lewis clenched his jaw. Normally, he’d be hopelessly lost with this exchange, but he’d spent most of the day running through it in his head, and he knew what to do. “I need your help,” he told Jacky. “You’re smart. I mean, you took care of Garth, right? Well now he’s gonna kill Kitty-Kitty.”

  “Huh?” Jacky spun around. “He’s gonna kill your cat?”

  “Because of what you did,” said Lewis. “He’s gonna burn Kitty-Kitty alive, just like he did with Heather’s cat. You heard that story?”

  “The little tard-o girl? Yeah, I heard it.” Jacky looked down. “Jesus. I never thought it was… I mean, those guys wore masks. God! Garth did that?!” He shook his head. “You know, I didn’t really…” he sighed and hung his head. “I didn’t mean to put the bottle in your desk, Lewis. I was on my way to Quan’s desk when the teacher came in. Yours was just closer, and I freaked. I didn’t know what would happen, I mean… I was gonna try and get it later and move it, but class started and the bell rang and we had to turn in assignments, and then…”

  Lewis remembered the look on their teacher’s face when he’d lifted the lid of his desk to get his homework and the teacher saw the prescription pill bottle sitting on top. Prescriptions had to be turned into the nurse. Kids weren’t allowed to have them. The humiliation only furthered his resolve. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered. “I don’t care. It’s done. But you gotta help me save Kitty-Kitty.” The big paint-strewn rock lay just ahead. Lewis made a point of looking around. “I’ve got an idea. It’s really bad, but… it will stop Garth. We shouldn’t talk about it out here though. Someone might come by and hear us.” He pointed to the trail leading left. “Let’s go to that old tree house.”

  Jacky shrugged. “Okay.”

  Down the trail they marched, past the rock and into the briars. The foliage got thicker, old bushes and shrubs grew high. It was still early fall, and most of the leaves were golden brown, red, and green. It was quiet in the clearing where the old tree house lay cradled in the boughs of two huge oaks. Several rungs were missing from the moss encrusted ladder leading up to the rickety two-by-four platform.

  Jacky stopped and took off his backpack to stretch. The heavy weight of his school textbooks thudded onto an old sheet of moldering plywood. “So what’s the plan?” he asked Lewis.

  From behind the oak tree, Garth barreled forth, slamming Jacky with a shoulder tackle and dropping him to his knees. Garth wrestled him, forcing Jacky’s face into the dirt and holding him in place. “I’m the plan, Jacobson” Garth whispered in his ear.

  Jacky struggled beneath the larger boy, but Garth held him fast. Garth had been on the wrestling team since his freshman year, and knew what he was doing. Besides, his Dad was a cop. Prying Jacky’s hands behind him, Garth put his knee over the boy’s neck and took a zip-tie out of his pocket, looping the plastic thread around Jacky’s wrists. Pulling it tight, he leaned back and rolled Jacky over, punching him in the groin and the stomach.

  “Like that, Jacobson?” Garth jerked the crying boy to his feet and pushed him against the thick trunk of the oak tree. “There’s a rope behind the tree,” Garth barked at Lewis. “Go get it.”

  Lewis, who had done nothing except stare in shock, blinked his eyes and did as Garth said. On the other side of the trunk, he found a coil of rope, a shovel, a bucket of water, and a red plastic gas can. Grabbing the rope, he returned to Garth and handed it over. Garth gave him an end and told him to circle the tree. “Just keep going until I tell you to stop.”

  Thirteen times, Lewis rounded the oak, until almost all the rope was gone. G
arth took the end and cinched it tight. Jacky twisted against the tree. His nylon jacket rasped on the flaky bark. Tears ran down his cheeks. “Please,” he cried. Raising his neck, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “SOMEONE HEEELLLPPP MEEEE!”

  Snarling, Garth slapped Jacky across the face. Enjoying this, he slapped Jacky four more times before pulling an old jock strap from his pocket and stuffing it into the boy’s mouth. He covered it with a strip of duct tape to keep it in place.

  “There, shithead. Hope you enjoy the taste of sweaty cock. Do you? I bet you do, faggot.” He narrowed his eyes. “You fucked my family good, you little thief. Time to pay the piper, and that’s me. I’m the fucking piper!”

  “MMMFFF!” Jacky closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “What’s that? I can’t hear you.” Garth smirked. He rubbed his fingers together in front of Jacky’s face. “That’s the world’s smallest violent. Go get the gas can, Herman.”

  Lewis balked. “The… gas can!? Isn’t this enough?” His voice trembled. “We don’t have to….”

  “Go GET IT!” screamed Garth.

  “No.” Lewis backed up a step.

  Garth stormed forward. Grabbing Lewis by the collar, he pulled Lewis close and whispered in his ear. “It’s just water, Herman. I ain’t gonna burn him. I’m just gonna scare the holy shit out of him. Go get it.”

  “Alright.” Lewis nodded, suddenly realizing the absolute brilliance of Garth’s plan. “Yeah… alright.” He’d never even consider scaring someone like this. It was perfect! And Jacky had it coming. He’d probably piss himself. Lewis retrieved the can. When he returned, Garth was pulling on a pair of gloves. The can was half empty and sloshed as gave it to Garth.

  Garth gave Lewis a shove. “Step back, dickhead. You don’t want to get any of this on you when it lights or you’ll go up too.”

  “Right.” Lewis back several paces away.

  Jacky’s eyes widened and his struggles increased as Garth poured the clear liquid over the boy. It covered his hair and ran in rivulets down his body and over the ropes. When he was done, Garth capped the gas can and threw it into the bushes. Approaching Lewis, he pulled a metal lighter from his pocket and handed it over. “Take it. Go on, TAKE IT!”

  Lewis took the lighter.

  “Good. Now it’s time for a barbecue!” He let out a crazy laugh. “Hey, Jacobson, how do you like your meat? Let’s get this party started. Do it, Herman.”

  Lewis hesitated, but Garth gave him a push. Standing in front of Jacky, Lewis looked into his one-time friend’s horrified pleading gaze. “You got me in a lot of trouble, Jacky,” he said. “You deserve this.”

  “You gonna DIE!” crowed Garth.

  Jacky’s face crinkled and pinched. He shook his head. His body trembled.

  “You shouldn’t have put those pills in my desk,” Lewis told him. “You shouldn’t have stole them. You really messed up. I hate to do this, but you need to learn a lesson.” He held up the lighter and flicked the wheel. The tiny blaze flickered brilliantly in Lewis’s eyes. “You won’t ever mess with me again, Jacky.”

  “MMMFFFF!”

  “THROW IT!”

  Lewis tossed the lighter to the ground at Jacky’s feet. Confined by the ropes, Jacky’s chest heaved. Sealed by the duct tape, he could only breathe through his nose. His eyes fluttered and his nostrils flared. The sounds of his desperate inhalations weakened. And, as Lewis had hoped, a dark stain appeared at the front of his jeans. Jacky had pissed himself. But now… it looked as though he might pass out.

  “I think we should untie him,” said Lewis. “He can’t breathe, Garth.”

  “Wait a second. He’ll breathe.”

  All at once, the liquid caught, and in a burst of fire, Jacky went up like kindling. A sheet of blue flames erupted from Jacky’s feet and crawled up his chest. As if by reflex, Jacky threw his head back and opened his eyes. “MMMNNNNNN!” His unkempt blonde hair crackled and burned.

  “AHH!” screamed Lewis. He jumped back. “NOOO!”

  Garth laughed maniacally. “AH HAHA! You dumbass, Herman. You’re such a retard.” He slapped his thighs and laughed harder. “And the best part is, you threw the lighter! BWAAA! Your Dad’s lighter! And that gas can? I stole it from your garage. The rope, the bucket, everything! I even took the jock strap from your locker. It’s got your fucking NAME on it! You just murdered Jacobson! HAAA!”

  The bucket, thought Lewis. He raced around the tree and grabbed it. Halting in front of Jacky, he threw the water, first at Jacky’s face, and then the rest at his body. It splashed over him, and though the flames fell back, they didn’t go out. A few stubborn ones kept burning. Lewis took his coat off and beat them down. Then he remembered the shovel and what his father had said about fires. Grabbing the shovel from behind the tree he began digging in the roots, pulling out the deep moist dirt buried there and throwing it onto Jacky as fast as he could.

  “The ropes,” Lewis moaned through his smoke inflamed throat. “Garth, we’ve got to cut the ropes. We have to get HELP!”

  “Yeah,” chuckled Garth. “You cut the ropes. I’ll go get help. See you.” He turned and walked back down the trail, whistling to himself.

  “GARTH!”

  In Lewis’s terror-stricken mind, the pieces of the plot fell together. Garth had tricked him. This wasn’t their revenge, it was Garth’s revenge. Turning back to the tree, Lewis raised the shovel. With near maniacal strength, he slashed at the ropes where they met the trunk, whacking them with the shovel’s edge until they fell away and Jacky dropped to the ground.

  “Oh God,” moaned Lewis. Jacky wasn’t moving. Parts of his nylon coat had melted, and some of it stuck to his hands and arms. His skin was black and red and mottled. But he was still breathing – still alive! Reaching down, Lewis picked Jacky up and threw him over his shoulder. Horrified at what he’d done, Lewis ran through the forest, screaming for help.

  The trees streamed by, and a collage of imagery followed at high speed. The hospital. The police investigation. The trial. Jacky’s burn-blinded eyes, staring sightlessly. The skin grafts. The year Lewis had spent in juvenile hall, and the psych ward, and the therapists. The loss of his Sophomore year of high school, and the way everyone treated him afterwards. No friends. No sympathy. No forgiveness.

  No hope.

  Jacky had kept his mouth shut at the trial, refusing to testify. Lewis would have been incarcerated longer if his lawyer hadn’t used his Asperger Syndrome as a defense strategy. “My client is socially handicapped,” the lawyer had told the court. “He did not understand the ramifications of his actions, nor was it his intention to burn the victim.” The trial went on for months. It made national news. His parents were mortified.

  A year later, Bill Smithmaster shot himself in the head. Garth was found to be criminally insane, and after they got him on a drug program, he’d admitted to his crimes, but by then it was too late for Lewis.

  Sweat poured down his face, trickling into his eyes. Cold metal bit into his wrists and ankles, holding him fast.

  “That was a decent spike.” said Valon from the computer station. “There’s nothing like a good burst of cortisol and adrenaline to liven up your day, is there? How was the remembering, Lewis?” He stood up and grabbed the plastic bottle. “You deserve a good drink after that. Unfortunately, all I have is water.”

  Lewis sipped greedily from the tube. “How… long?” he gasped.

  “Oh, it only takes a few seconds,” replied Valon. “I’m sure it seemed longer, but that’s just accelerated neural speed. Time is relative, you know. So… would you?”

  “Would I… what?”

  “Do it again?” Valon sat back down and regarded Lewis with a look of curiosity. “Would you do that to Jacky again?”

  “Hell no! Are you insane? I wouldn’t have done it the first time if I’d known it was kerosene. I had no idea what Garth was doing. The liquid was clear. He told me to stand back so I didn’t smell it.”

  “And what about to Ga
rth? Would you do it to him?”

  “I wouldn’t do that to ANYONE, Valon! Jesus Christ, what kind of person would burn someone alive!? It’s sick.”

  “Yesss,” muttered the old man. He stared off into the distance, considering thoughts Lewis couldn’t fathom and didn’t want to know. “You’ve earned your reward, Lewis. Ask your question.”

  “Two questions,” corrected Lewis.

  “Two then,” sighed Valon. “But let’s make it quick, shall we? There’s still a lot of work to do. We need some adult markers as well, and you need to learn how to drop into the memory stream on your own. That all takes practice, and we only have a few hours.”

  “Wonderful.” Lewis took a deep breath and thought of the questions he might ask. There were so many. What were the most important? “What happens to my body when I, um… jump to another simulation?”

  “It dies,” stated Valon. “That’s how the jump works. What’s your next question?”

  “DIES!? You mean… you’re going to kill me?”

  “Oh,no.” Valon shook his head. “You’re going to do that yourself. I’m just going to show you how. But, trust me, when the time comes, you’ll want to die.”

  “Why would I want to die?”

  “Is that your second question?”

  “I… no.” He rolled his eyes. “Look, Valon, just because I wanted to kill myself doesn’t mean I still want to, or even really wanted to in the first place. I had to come to terms with the loss of Brenda and Scotty. I just wanted the pain to end. I’m better now. I can deal with it.”

  “I see.” Valon leaned forward and raised one eyebrow. “And what if there was a way to get them back?”

  Lewis stared at his captor. His mouth twitched. “Don’t fuck with me, Valon.”

  “Oh, I’m not. Or have you forgotten this is a computer simulation?” He waved his hands. “Matter, all of it, a quantum mesh wrapped inside an infinitely long data well extending in thirteen dimensions. A tangle of information, Lewis, a looping conduit of nothingness that we perceive as solid. But it’s not. It’s all just nothing. When you break it down into its smallest components, it’s digital, not analog. It’s a bit, living light refracted through circuitry so infinitely small it doesn’t exist except as a figment of imagination. We are all imaginary, and we live in an imaginary land populated by imaginary people. So, given all that, would it be so surprising if certain, shall we say, patterns, are repeated?”