"The Carver"

         As he turned his collar up and faced the wind, Jeff knew he had made the wrong decision but It was to late, he was there. The house was there. Not more than 70 yards in front of him was the reason he had traveled 13 hours straight. So what if he hadn’t accounted for the possibility that he would be arriving at 3 in the morning? Besides, what would Becky say if she knew he came all this way and punked out? He didn’t want to go there, so he didn’t.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       He studied the ground where the cab had been seconds before. He was stalling, this was nothing new. In fact it was a problem that had plagued him as far back as he could remember and although he would never admit it, it was part of the reason why he was there. To overcome the weakness that was Jeff Harrington wasn’t going to be easy and it wasn’t going to be pretty but one thing was certain, he was going to overcome that which was holding him back. You could bet your life on that. Jeff did.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Icy pellets attacked his face like angry bees defending their hive as he pulled a beat up pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, he squeezed to make sure there was enough nicotine to get him through the next 20 minutes. If he paced himself, there was. He lit one, took a deep drag and exhaled. “Fuck me.” he thought. That’s what he always thought. Had it really come down to this? His eyes followed the light that was coming from the nearest streetlamp. It faded long before it reached the house, this was good. He would need the darkness.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         He stood there for what felt like an eternity, letting himself travel back in time to when this was his neighbor hood. Back to when the biggest decisions in life were what games to play with the other kids. He let the dying cigarette fall from his hand and disappear into the blackness that was a puddle quickly turning to ice. Now wasn’t the time for nostalgic reminiscing. As the light from the smoke went out, A light from the house just to his left came on. He began walking, trying to look as casual as he could. Trying to look like a resident out on a late night stroll. “It could happen.” he thought, ignoring the lunacy of a man out walking in the sleet and rain at 3am. Instinctively he reached for the pack of smokes before letting them fall back into his jacket. “How many things must there be buried in the ground?” Jeff wondered. “Millions? Certainly thousands, probably hundreds of thousands.” He decided there was really no way to know.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Most will never be found, that’s the way the buriers wanted it. Then there are those that were meant to be lost forever but something happens to change that. Something that causes the burier to do something he never imagined he would be doing, especially all these years later, at this time in his life, at the worst possible time of year, not to mention time of day (or night).                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               It was a just another crisp Sunday that November day. Jeff was hunkered down in his oversized Lazyboy watching the Vikings kick a little Bear ass. As he twisted off the cap of his fourth beer, he glanced over at Becky who was in the kitchen putting together her latest meal from yet another recipe she had gotten online. Jeff didn’t complain, most everything she made was pretty good. He would tell her so but he didn’t want her to get big head over something she was supposed to be good at anyway. He found it hard to believe that it was 12 years already. It seemed unreal. He checked out her ass from across the room, thankful that it still looked good, and it wasn’t just him who thought so. When his friends got too drunk they would tell him the same thing.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      “Love you.“ he said from the comfort of his oversized chair.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Becky looked over and stuck her tongue out him.                                                                                                                                                                “Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ bout!“ Jeff countered, a devious grin across his face.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       “You’re drunk.“ she was emphasizing the playful nature in her voice.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 As his attention once again turned to the game, Jeff Harrington thought about how good life was. At 35 he had a beautiful wife, a nice house, a killer plasma TV and a huge heated garage out back with a ‘67 Challenger in it waiting to be fixed up once it got too cold to do anything else, which by the looks of things, wouldn’t be too long. It was 2:47pm when the phone rang and things were about to stop being typical. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen but the Vikes were winning and he was in a good mood.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                “Yeah?” Jeff yelled instead of turning the volume down on the game.                                                                                                                                                                

                “He‘s carving again.” the voice on the other end said.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Not sure if he was hearing correctly, Jeff cut the volume by about half.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  “What’s that?” he asked again, hoping he had heard wrong.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    “He‘s carving again.” he repeated with a  trembling in his voice.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       A shot of adrenaline shot through his entire body. His stomach became so tight he thought he might puke up his entire arsenal of game time snacks right there on the spot. As he made his way from the chair to the sliding glass door leading to the deck, Jeff still wasn’t sure who he was talking to. He knew it was one of three people. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Becky was watching him. He stayed silent until he was on the safe  side of the glass.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    "Tig?" Jeff asked, doing his best to sound strong.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           “No, it’s Pumper.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   







                        “Pumper?” He was the last one he thought he’d hear from.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         “Fuck, it’s bad Jeff, really fuckin’ bad.“                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              “Where are you?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    “Where do you think?” a mix of fear and agitation coming from Pumpers voice.          Without having to say one more word, Jeff knew exactly where he was.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       You sure about this Eric?” Jeff never called him by his real name unless he was either really serious or really scared. In this case he was both.17 years had gone by. Yet here they were, talking as though they had seen each other yesterday. I guess it’s not that unusual, especially when you share a bond, whether it be wanted or unwanted. Jeff turned back around and smiled at his wife through the glass.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                “Where are Dave and Tig?” Jeff was getting cottonmouth from the alcohol. In his haste to escape listening ears he left his beer behind. “Hang on.” he said as he set the phone down on the decks’ railing and went back inside to fetch his bottle.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             “Who’s that?” Becky asked, not looking up from her crock pot that at the moment contained something that hardly resembled the online photo.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        “A guy. Says he got my number from Ritchie. He’s got some parts he might want to trade.” He had no choice but to lie. With precious liquid in hand he opened the sliding glass door and stepped back onto the badly weathering deck. Closing the door behind him, he took three hard swallows and put the phone up to his                                                                                                                                                                                                      “Have you talked to…” Jeff started to say.                                                                                                                                                                                      It was to late. Pumper was gone.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             Standing in the middle of his deck, it started to set in; it was happening all over again; it wasn’t over like he had convinced himself it was, hoped it was. He hit the redial without realizing it, on autopilot now. “Please God.” he pleaded under his breath.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 It was so long ago, that summer when the 4 musketeers decided to camp out in the corner of the yard. Jeff always thought about how different life would have turned out if they had decided to pitch that damned tent next to the house instead of having to prove to each other that they weren’t afraid of the dark and the woods. Of course they were afraid of both. He just stopped having the dreams after all. The woods. It always came back to the backyard and the woods, and what they found there on that beautiful summer night. Or more accurately, what found them. Jeff was holding his breath as he listened to the phone ring and go to voicemail. “Come on Pumper, don’t do this to me.“ Jeff pleaded to his childhood friend a thousand miles away.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            “Hey, this is Pumper. You know what to do.” The recording seemed to taunt Jeff. Yes, he knew what to do. He just wasn’t sure if he could do it. Again. Slamming the phone shut and finishing off what was left of his beer, Jeff rubbed hid forehead and slicked his hair back out of his eyes. Lowering his head, it instantly covered his face once more. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.” he grumbled as he kicked at the strips of varnish that were statring to peel away from the deck. Earlier in the day he was upset at himself for not recoating it when the weather was warm. Now it was so unimportant. His mind was going a thousand miles an hour, suddenly there was so much to do. He would have to get hold of Dave and Tig. Chances are they were closer to ground zero. Not as close as Pumper but without being able to get in touch with him, Jeff wasn’t even sure Pumper  was still alive. He knew how fast things went once they started rolling. And fuck him, things were rolling!