Guilt (20 page)

The police wanted to question me on the incident that led up to the crime scene in the Brickerton High School auditorium, but my doctor told them that it would probably be a better idea to get it from me when I was more lucid. I was glad. I wasn't ready to relive the encounter yet.

My family must have left after I dozed off, because when I awoke it was dark and I was alone. Or I thought I was alone. Turning my head (slowly, because the medication gave me a bit of a hang over), I found a figure in the lounge chair beside my bed.

The person's head was in his hands as he propped himself forward, elbows on his lap. Was he sleeping? Waiting? Tormenting himself?

"Hi," I murmured to get his attention.

The Freak looked up. He wore a big black winter coat that hid his tattoos. His eyebrows furrowed, making it obvious that he felt worried. I smiled at my hero.

"Hey," he smiled back, relief evident before he re-mastered his expression.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Is it still visiting hours?"

"No," he replied, "No, I work here. My shift starts in about an hour." I must have looked at him funny, because he abated my curiosity. "I'm a nurse here."

"You're a nurse?" That seemed like the oddest profession I could ever have imagined for the Freak.

"Yes," he grinned. "And believe it or not, I like my job."

Okay, I justified to myself, there was probably a lot of blood and gore involved in the field of nursing. Maybe I
could
see him in such a career.

"But, I thought . . . Weren't you at the gas station the other day?" I probed, confusion and curiosity on my face.

"That's my dad's station," he said. "I picked up a few shifts during the holiday weekend to help him out."

"Oh," I knew the question that really burned in me, but I felt too afraid to ask it.

"So, you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I smiled, "thanks to you."

"I'm glad. I was worried about you," he said, casting his eyes to the ground. Was that a look of embarrassment he tried to hide?

"Why," I finally asked. "Why were you worried about me?"

He inhaled what must have been meant to be a calming breath. Not looking away from wherever his eyes were focused to on the floor, he responded, "I liked you, Claire. Back in high school. You were the only girl who didn't cringe from me. I liked you from the moment you corrected me about Mayans and Aztecs and ritual sacrifices. You didn't get squeamish and wig out like any of the other girls would have. You kind of stood up to me. I admired that."

Did I just hear him correctly? I viewed him as my tormentor for so long, and he actually had a – well, kind of a, - like a thing for me?

"I remember how you made art class feel. I really liked that class when you were in it. I looked forward to it. Until you left."

And I had thought that he was my bane in that class. Oh, I felt so guilty for hating him the way I did then.

"Obviously, I wasn't very good at expressing myself. But I only ever wanted to protect you back then; and I tried to protect you today. I think you did most of the work yourself, though. Very impressive, by the way. You kicked his ass." He smiled at me.

I tried to smile back, but didn't really want to recall the particulars of today's incident.

"But how did you know?" I asked. "How did you know I was in trouble? And how did you know where to find me?"

"Ah, well," he seemed to struggle for words, "I saw you at the gas station yesterday. I was a little surprised to see you, and sort of . . . embarrassed." He looked at me and quickly added, " I wasn't exactly expecting you, so I got a little flustered, you know?

"I kicked myself for letting you walk out without at least . . ." He blushed. The Freak actually blushed.

Since, I was having trouble taking all of this unexpected information in, I waited for him to continue. He didn't leave me hanging long.

"Anyways," he glossed over whatever it was he had almost said. "When I stopped by the diner to pick up my lunch, I saw you with Kain. My protective instincts fired up all over again. I don't know why the Murphy brothers both took an interest in you – well, I mean I do know
why
. I mean, it's just – anyways," The Freak was rambling. I'd never known him to be lost for words. He had always been a man of few words, but they had never seemed fail him before.

"I knew Kain was bad news, so I listened in and caught part of your conversation. He mentioned a picnic at the Giant's Grave. I knew that place. I used to go there to smoke p. . . – anyways. Ah, I thought I'd sneak up there and check in on you. You know, without you knowing.

"So, I hiked up there. I saw your picnic set up, and a fire that was still going in the pit, but you weren't there. I put the fire out before it could spread, but I just got a little . . . agitated. You weren't anywhere around. I told myself you just went for a walk or something, but I how could I be satisfied 'til I saw you? You know, so I could make sure you were alright." He looked back down at the floor again, and continued.

"I'm not exactly much of a tracker, so it took a little while before I ended up going in the right direction. I saw the broken glass at the back door of the high school, and got a little suspicious. And when I went in, I figured it out. I knew what was happening. That's when I pulled the fire alarm."

"I can't tell you how grateful I am that you did," my eyes started to well up. I had my life thanks to his suspicion and his deed.

He smiled at me, and I knew he would have done even more for me if he could. The idea that the Freak became my savior felt so surreal. If he hadn't pulled that alarm, if he hadn't come to check up on me, my mind would have left my body when Kain finally took me and it would not have been able to return.

"How did you know what Kain was capable of?" I wanted to understand it all. There was so much to take in.

"I suspected Kain a long time ago of doing something horrible to a little girl in my neighborhood. You remember the girl that went missing? She lived down the street from me. Well, I'd seen Kain prowling about the outskirts of her yard once or twice over the summer before she was kidnapped. For some reason, warning bells went off in my head the moment I heard she went missing.

"A week or so later, when I was heading through the high school woods late at night – I was meeting some friends for a . . . smoke – I caught a glimpse of Kain and Corry creeping down a path. They had a shovel and a pick, and they were whispering. Arguing, I think. I knew for sure, then. Kain had something to do with that girl, and Corry was involved."

He paused and I pondered. When I spoke, I asked, "why didn't you go to the authorities if you knew Kain had done it?"

"What proof did I have? I knew I was the local Freak. Who would believe such a wild story from me? I looked for the proof, though. I searched all over those woods, but I couldn't find a damn thing. For a while, I thought I was just crazy. I'd seen Corry before and after that night. I knew a bit about him from art class. He wasn't the type. I figured I was just getting carried away with my imagination.

"Of course, then, I provoked him with that article, and I prodded him about the case a couple of times. The way he reacted, I knew I wasn't crazy, after all.

"But Corry started looking at you. He talked to you and walked down the hall with you, he even began sitting at your lunch table. I got worried. What if you were next?"

No, I thought. He had Corry all wrong. So, I told him what Kain confessed to me, about what he'd done to the girl, and about Corry: how he forced his brother to help get rid of the girl's body and then killed him and made it look like a suicide. The Freak looked about as grieved by the knowledge as I felt. Corry had been a victim almost as much as Leslie.

"I know where's she's buried, " I said, at last. "Corry left a clue in his drawing. I haven't had a chance to tell the police yet." I wondered how the Freak felt about being a part of this. "What do you want me to say to them about you?"

"Tell them everything," he replied. "I have nothing to hide. I felt bad that I couldn't prove my suspicions back in high school, but now you have all the proof we need. This is our chance to make everything right."

Yes, it was, wasn't it?

Epilogue

It was too early in the season for anything but the crocuses. The trees hadn't awakened from their winter hibernation yet, and the birds hadn't returned from their southern retreat. The day started out bright and clear, but turned cloudy and dreary as the morning progressed, casting just the right lighting for the scenery I found myself in.

I'd never received an 'invitation' to attend a funeral before, and so I felt compelled to go, even if it meant making another trip back to Brickerton.

It had been a little over three months since my run in with Kain. After I told the local law enforcement my story and directed them to where they could find the body of the little girl, they were able to exhume her remains from the unmarked grave in the woods. She still wore a pair of overalls that were the fashion of the time, and was wrapped in a decaying beach towel.

By the time the coroner and the investigators had completed their examination of little Leslie's body, the winter cold had seeped into the ground, freezing the soil and making burial difficult. The parents who had waited twelve years to find out what happened to their daughter, had to wait several months longer before they could put her to rest.

The girl's mother hugged me and cried when I approached her in the church. My initial reaction of discomfort caused me to stiffen, but when she whispered "thank you" into my ear, my body went warm and soft. Tears fell down my face. I sensed her pain, but I felt her relief.

After the funeral, she asked me to accompany the small group of mourners that were to attend her daughter as she was laid to rest. I came back to see the girl properly buried, so I agreed to the request.

That's how I ended up here, back in the cemetery where I first met Kain. So much had happened since then, and my world had spun towards a new epoch. What I knew of the past and how I perceived the future had changed in a short time.

Leslie's parents obtained closure, Corry received justice and Kain got what he deserved. The fall didn't kill the man, but his injuries made him a paraplegic. He couldn't hurt anyone anymore, especially since he was facing life in prison. His disabled state would call for a separate confinement from other prison inmates and would save him from meeting with the vigilante vengeance they might seek on a child killer, but I rested easy knowing that his face would never emerge into the outer world again.

The whole affair of last fall made me a local celebrity. The Brickerton Press printed article after article about it for weeks. I knew his because Mom sent all of the newspaper clippings to me. There was even a blurb or two about it in the national news. After my discharge from the hospital, I could barely move about my hometown without being accosted by someone who tried to press some unknown details of the story out of me in the hopes that they'd obtain some gossip to spread.

The Freak didn't get off easily, either. His identity had been strewn across the papers, as well. As it turned out, his name was Matt Deleary. I'd never known that before.

After cloistering myself in my parent's home for the few days that I stayed on in Brickerton, I left the attention behind for the west coast. Matt had to stay and continue being subjected to all the curiosity.

I stood in the cemetery now, watching as the casket was lowered into the earth. The sensations that this place formerly evoked in me no longer held their affect. The melancholy atmosphere, the inquisitive thrill for the past, didn't fill me anymore.

For the third time since my arrival, I turned towards the location in which I knew Corry's grave to be. This time I saw a figure in the distance. He was familiar.