PillowFace (11 page)

A back brace. Like the kind weightlifters would wear when doing squats. He remembered wearing his father’s weight belt as a kid, turning it around so the rubber oval was in front, then pretending it was a wrestling championship belt. He would have make-believe matches with his stuffed animals where sometimes he won, and sometimes he didn’t.

Why was he thinking about that? He hadn’t thought about his childhood since before he joined the military. It was probably because of the kid, and being around him was bringing it all back. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

He closed the box back up, and returned it to where it originally was, but he held onto the belt.  As he looked around him, he notice
d there was a city of stacked boxes running the length of the basement, more boxes than he could ever have imagined. And, he was curious to see what had been hidden away inside the cardboard cubes.  There was no way he’d ever make it through them all, but he wanted to at least make a dent in them tonight.

He spent an hour curiously digging through boxes, and came across many interesting things, but he hadn’t found anything he wanted to hold on to.  Not until he discovered the hand saw.  It was easily sixteen inches in length, with jagged teeth running along the bottom of its chrome-colored blade. The black handle was still clamped in cardboard which meant the saw hadn’t been used. 

He decided to hold onto that as well. 

After putting the last box he’d scoured through back where it belonged, he was bushed.  He plodded to his air mattress and lay down.  He put the weight belt and hand saw above the pillow that Joel had given him from his room.  Then he rested his head on it.  Its feathery softness was comfortable, and he was asleep within seconds of closing his eyes.

(I)

“The sun’s rising, get up!” Buddy kicked Carp in the ass through the blanket.  He jerked rigid, shooting his head up from underneath. 

“What the hell!?!” 

Buddy stood over him, hands settled on his hips. “He’s not back, get ready.” 

Carp sat up with a groan. The blanket was bunched around his legs, and felt wonderful as a naked woman clinging to his waist and begging him not to go.  But, with a man like Buddy standing over your sleeping quarters telling you to get up, that’s what you did.  Promptly. “Are you sure?” 

“What do I look like, an idiot?” 

“Well, no…”

“Don’t you think I can tell if someone’s bed is empty?” 

“I’d hope so.” 

“You’d hope….”  He shook his head.  “Get up!” 

“I am!”  Carp kicked the blankets off his legs and stood up. He was naked from the waist down. He looked around his cot for his pants, finding them heaped in a pile on the floor. His underwear sat on top.  They were a soiled pair, but would have to do for now, there was no time to find a clean set or to wash these in a creek. 

“He’s been gone for twenty-four hours, at least.” Buddy tilted back his head, staring at the low hanging ceiling improvised from an old tarp.  “It’s not like him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” 

“I’m not.” 

“What’s the big deal, even if he’s not, then so what?”

“We need him, Carp, or have you forgotten?” 

“I haven’t.”

“Good.  Because, just like you, he has his own position on this team.  As much as I despise you, I need you, too. Which is what has kept you in my good graces so far, but that can only last for so long.”

“Wow, Buddy, never knew you cared so much.” 

“We need to patrol the woods.  Trace his steps; make sure he didn’t run into any trouble.” 

“What kind of trouble could someone like Face run into?  Seriously, he’s a fucking ox.” 

“I don’t know. Forest Rangers, bears, cops, could be anything, and it could be nothing.  We have to find out for sure.” 

Carp hiked up his pants and looped the belt.  When it was snug, he wrenched it taut, and buckled it. He scratched his head and felt oily hair under his nails. He realized he wasn’t wearing his cap, so he combed the floor until he found it in the corner.  Once that was on his head, he was ready.  “Okay.” 

“Good to go?”

“Yep.”

“All right, grab a tote bag. Stuff it with whatever you can bring, but just make sure it’s light.  I’m going to get my camera and mask.” 

Smiling, Carp said, “You think you might need it?”  His crooked smirk probably was not the best thing to see this early in the morning, actually he knew it was nauseating.  But, the idea of Buddy bringing his mask meant only one thing:  he’d planned on making some art, which really meant: inflicting payback on some hapless chap.  And that destined that Carp would get to play in front of the camera.  

“Best to have it and not need it, then not to have it and do.  Right?”

“Uh… sure.” 

Buddy stepped out of the tent, flinging the drooping flap behind him as if he were slamming a door. Carp followed. The sun had risen, but wasn’t exactly meting out the brightness of the day.  It was early yet, and Carp assumed that Buddy had probably been up since before dawn, running around in a frantic mess because of Face’s disappearance. 

Disappearance?  He’d probably fled. 

Not as dumb as he looked if that was the case.  But, he doubted it to be true.  He seriously couldn’t see Face ever deserting Buddy for anything.  Carp had never understood why the bond between those two had always been so strong.  Their team was once larger by two people, and Buddy had hardly acknowledged them as being part of the group. (There were times when Carp wondered if he was considered one of them).  When Junior and Slappy were killed, Buddy had barely seemed to notice.  But, Face missing for not quite a full day has him acting as if his favorite toy had been broken. 

Maybe, it was. 

He looked across the hill to Buddy’s tent.  He was squatting in front of it like a catcher behind home plate. His green sack lay open in front of him.  He slid something small and flat inside of it. 
His mask? 
Then he tossed in a couple of machetes and knives.  No guns.
 
That had been important to Buddy from the beginning.  They do this, but without guns.  Not only are they loud and can give away your location, they lack the boasting of a personal touch, as if each weapon had been garnered for a specific person. 

Carp could appreciate that.  He liked the feel of them dying, the look in their eyes.  He was getting aroused just thinking about it.  He felt at his hip and smiled when he felt the knife strapped to his belt. 

Buddy packed the binoculars. 
Great. 
That meant their search was going to be a lengthy one. 
Buddy wants to explore every inch of the forest until we come up with something.
  And,
that
, would take awhile. 

“What a way to spend a day,” he muttered. 

Damn you, Face. 

He stepped back inside his tent to fill up his own tote bag.

(II)

Joel waited in bed five more minutes after hearing Haley’s car leave.  When he was certain she wasn’t coming back for any reason, he threw the sheets off him, and hopped out of bed.  He’d slept in plaid lounge pants and a t-shirt with
Freddy Krueger
on the front.  As he stretched, he admired the image of
Freddy
flashing his glove.  He was fond of his t-shirt collection.  He could go two weeks and not wear the same horror themed shirt more than once in that time span.  Eventually, he’d be able to go a whole month without having to.  His dream was to go a whole year and never be seen wearing the same t-shirt. 

Can’t wait.

He knew that wouldn’t happen until he was older, had moved to California, and gotten multiple jobs on various horror projects as their special effects coordinator.  It was his dream, and had been since he was five years old and saw
Friday the 13
th
for the first time.  The ending where an adolescent
Jason Voorhees
leapt out of the lake and dragged the lady in the canoe down under the water with him had been stenciled in his mind as an iconic memory.  It had stayed with him this long, and he imagined it always would. 

Walking around his room, kicking a path through his dirty clothes, he looked for his Homer Simpson slippers. It might not be a bad idea to throw his clothes in the washer so Haley wouldn’t have to do it.  They’d had a good evening together last night, and he wanted to keep it like that for as long as possible. Maybe if he did some things around the house to help her out she wouldn’t feel so stressed, and in return, wouldn’t be so mean. It was probably hard on her having to be the providing parent now when she was used to being the older sister that didn’t have to spend much time with a kid. 

Makes sense. 

Joel caught a glimpse of a white oval with a small black dot in the middle peeking at him from under a pile of dirty clothes.  As he neared the blank stare, he saw it was attached to a yellow head with stringy-thin hair. 
There they are. 
He scooped up some pants, tossed them on his bed, then slid his feet into the slippers.  When he had both slippers on, he did a patrol of his room, gathering up every piece of laundry he could find.  He wasn’t surprised by the size of the mountain on his bed when he was finished.  This pile would require two trips to the washing machine. 

With his arms bowed under one load, he scurried downstairs, crossed through the kitchen and into the laundry room that was connected to the garage.  Thankfully, Haley had left the door open after the last time she’d washed clothes, so he was able to just rush right in and drop the clothes into the machine.

He poured in a generous helping of detergent and set the dials where they needed to be.  As he pushed
Start
he remembered Pillowface’s old clothes were still in a trash bag under his bed that needed to be thrown away.  He figured just stuffing them down into the bottom of the trashcan outside would be enough. 

What kind of a name is Pillowface?
Joel hated to admit that he was more than a little disappointed with the name, but he could live with it. A guy like Pillowface should be called something like Psychoface, or anything else that sounded menacing. If it had been up to Joel, he would have thought of something really cool he could have used as a name, something with franchise potential.   

Maybe he’d ask him where the name had come from, or…maybe not.

(III)

After Joel had thrown the rest of his clothes into the washing machine, and—what he hoped--properly disposed of Pillowface’s bloodied rags, he headed for the basement door around the side of the house.  On his way, he noticed the shed’s door was hanging open, lightly swaying back and forth. 
I thought I closed it. 
He was sure that he had after putting everything back inside yesterday when they had finished assaulting the lawn. 

He took a detour, stopping in front of the yawning shed.  Everything seemed in place upon first glance, but as he focused harder he began to notice that all was not the way it should be.  First thing he spotted was one of Dad’s boxes lying tipped on its side on the shelf.  Not the one he used for small parts, but one of the many that housed various leftover pieces to whatever his Dad felt like tossing in. 

Entering the shed, he was able to see the standing tool chest had two drawers that had been left open. He checked those, and the only thing he recognized being gone that was supposed to be in there was the welding torch. So, he checked the peg hooks beside the door, and confirmed the empty one in the middle was missing the welding helmet. 

Pillowface. 

He darted out of the shed, running all the way to the basement door. As he curled his fingers around the knob, he hesitated.  Nervous.  His stomach buzzed and popped. And, because he was hungry, it made him feel nauseous. There was no doubt that Pillowface had taken the tools, but why had he done so?  Did Joel really want to go in there and find out? 
Sort of. 
Maybe he’d go in there only to find Pillowface had fled in the night. There was relief in the thought, but also anger. If he had left, and taken his Dad’s tools with him, it would be hard for Joel not to go after him to get them back. 

Whatever the case may be, he wasn’t going to figure it out standing outside.  He would have to go into the basement. 

So, he did. 

The basement was bathed in shadows. He heard a crackle, then piercing blue light inflated across the walls and ceiling.  It hurt Joel’s eyes so he had to look away, but during the brief moment he was able to see, he’d located the light was at the other end of the basement.  At least he knew Pillowface hadn’t stolen the tools. He was just using them without permission.

Using his hand to shield his eyes like a visor, he stared at his feet while he walked through the basement. As he neared the back, the temperature steadily began to rise. Usually, it was cool and stuffy in the basement, even during the summer, but right now it felt hotter than outside. The sizzling sounds were much louder, and he could also smell something like heated metal. 

“What’s going on?” he shouted. 

The sizzling sparks ceased. Joel lifted his eyes. He could see an orange dot floating in the darkness, but when his eyes adjusted he realized it was actually the tip of the blow torch.

“Why did you take this stuff without asking?”

Pillowface stood up. He needed to cock his head to the side to avoid cracking his skull on the beams above him. Joel had forgotten how huge he was. He quickly dropped his accusatory tone. 

“Sorry,” he said. “What are you doing with the blowtorch?”

Stepping to the side, Pillowface pointed at an object on the floor.  Joel had to get closer to actually see it.  Whatever the thing really was it looked to be in the early stages of construction.  He’d taken his Dad’s old back brace, and had been welding skinny chains to it. He had probably taken those from the shed as well. There was a saw on the floor, but it hadn’t been used from what Joel could tell. 

“Uh-huh,” said Joel, confused. He had no clue what his new friend was up to, and decided not to pry. Pillowface would probably show him eventually. He could wait. But, he was really puzzled by what he planned on doing with the saw. It seemed out of place with the work already done.

Pillowface sat the blowtorch on the floor, then brushed his hands on his pants.

“Wanna eat some cereal?” 

He nodded.

“We’ve also got Pop-tarts if you’d rather have that.” 

Pillowface shook his head. 

“Me neither.  I’m not a fan.” 

Together, they left the basement. Joel hoped Pillowface liked
Lucky Charms
, because that was all they had.