Chapter 18:

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Installment #19 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 18Do you consider yourself a good person?Leaving home again was hard, but not as hard as last year. Home was welcoming and warm. I just didn’t belong there anymore. It was strange to feel like a guest in the house I grew up in. On the other hand, my mother was sad to see me go. She treated the whole event as if I’d been leaving for the first time. But after packing me enough meals, with portions large enough to last a full week, she released me to the woods.The extra food weighed heavy on my shoulders. Its physical weight wasn’t the issue. It’s just that, she needed it more than me. But I couldn't turn it down. Not without spurning her gesture of love. Soon I was back in the woods. Those mysterious trees held many secrets, but I’d grown much more confident in my ability to navigate them. Sometime tomorrow I’d see my Midnight.The next morning, I awoke early to raindrops. The sky was still dark, the sun an hour or two from rising—or at least I thought so. The trees always hid the stars, but I could usually find some, just not right now. It was a sign that they were all blanketed over by clouds. Thunder surged nearer, like the crashing waves of an ocean. It would be a large storm. I wondered if I’d found sufficient cover under this tree. The blackness of the sky, combined with the tree canopy, made seeing anything impossible. My eyes wouldn’t tell me anything, but I would find out soon enough.Soon enough came in about five minutes, and no, I hadn’t found adequate shelter. The lightning that skittered across the sky every thirty seconds offered some illumination when it was flashing. Already I was so wet, I looked and felt like a boiled raisin. Sadly no place looked any better than where I sat. I could have stood, but I’d have been just as wet. Besides, I was cold and tired. Misery more than anything kept my butt planted in the soft mud.Like a turtle, I sucked my arms inside my shirt. The fabric stretched as I wrapped it tightly around my legs, tenting the shirt over my knees. I hoped to bounce some of the water off the fabric. I tucked my head as close to my core as possible. With eyes squinted shut, I tried to find escape from the soppy shivers by falling asleep.It didn’t work. There was nothing to do but wait. For hours I sat, my mudhole getting softer and slimier by the minute. The impression my body made in the soft earth also kept me a little warmer. After the first hour, I tried standing. The mud was like a suction cup. Since my body had warmed the mold, I only stood for a few seconds before I was compelled back down into its relative comfort.Eventually, though not as soon as preferred, the sun climbed to its place in the morning sky. It remained hidden above the storm, but at least some of its glow filtered through the dark cumulus clouds. The sheets of rain were the only limiting factor in how far I could see.Now I marveled, not for the first time, at how the thick canopy of the trees was insufficient to stop the rain. The blanket of leaves couldn’t even divert it into manageable curtains of water. Instead the drops kept falling, going straight through the foliage as if each tree was nothing more than an illusion. It was a rather convincing play of light, but an illusion just the same.I ate a quick breakfast. Thankfully my mother had packed it in a plastic bag. But the short few seconds between leaving the bag and entering my mouth made it dripping wet. With a sucking pop, I stood from my mudhole. My ankles ached as only wet cold joints know how. Like an old arthritic man, I limped and hobbled for a good ten minutes until my knees limbered some. Even after that, every few steps felt like my feet were carrying twice their weight. Little pinpricks explored every spot where one bone connected to another. It was going to be a long day.Every fifteen minutes of hiking felt like an hour. I hiked twenty-four hours that morning. By noon I found the hangman’s camp. It had been particularly hard to find in the rain, but something was wrong. Not a single person could be found.At first I wondered if I’d stumbled into an older camp. Maybe they went somewhere else during bad weather. But that didn’t seem right, either. There were no more shelters, pots, or clothing anywhere. I walked around quickly to make certain that I was in the right location. Everything about the place was right. It was the same camp that I’d spent a whole month becoming familiar with.That was only two weeks ago. All was the same, except everyone had moved on.They couldn’t have left too long ago. I hadn’t left that long ago. But there were no tracks leading anywhere that I could discern. Their footprints must have been washed away by the storm. I had no means of following the large group of children. I sank to my knees. How was I ever to find Midnight? I looked around again, hoping for something from her that could tell me where she’d gone. But she couldn’t even write. There was no way I could ever find her.One broken thatch roof had been left behind. It leaked badly, but it was the best form of shelter left. I took refuge under it and stayed, feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t have the energy to go on. I remained there for some time, maybe from a vain hope that someone might return and let me know where everyone had gone. More likely I was just too tired to press on. Angry, wet, and alone, I cried.Afternoon came, then evening. All the while the rain beat down.After what had started out as a restless night, I blinked awake. The sun was up; for how long, I had no idea. The rain must have stopped during the night, allowing me to drift into an exhausted sleep. Now the cold wetness was replaced by a hot and muggy midmorning.My mouth felt like cotton and tasted like I had a week’s worth of morning breath. I took off my shirt, hoping to walk more comfortably without the sticky damp thing on my back. The mosquitoes quickly compelled me to put it back on. Putting the soggy garment back on was a trial of discomfort all its own. I felt disgusting as I slowly rolled the cloth back down my fleshy body. Mosquitoes turned into skid-marks as my damp shirt disturbed their feast. Thoughts of getting to my comfortable apartment dominated my will. Even Midnight was pushed to the back of my mind. I had a single-minded purpose of finding comfort again. If I didn’t find dry clothing soon, I’d never shake this dreadful state.Like yesterday’s storm, the one in my mind soon passed. By noon I had dried out. The weather was still intolerably hot and humid. My head was clearing and I was able to hike on, noticing trees and birds rather than mud and fallen sticks. From the hangman’s camp, I knew that I had a full day-and-a-half walk to civilization. Midnight would be disappointed that I didn’t see her again this summer. She’d have to understand. I vowed that before next summer came, I’d find her again. My first opportunity might be around Christmas, when school generally gave us two and a half weeks off between semesters. If I had to, I would use most of the break to find her again.That next afternoon I was in my new apartment, washing mud-stained clothing in the kitchen sink. After hanging the last of it to dry, I wanted to plop down on my bed and sleep for a couple days straight. But that wouldn’t do. I needed work, which meant that I had to re-secure my job at the New District Times. I changed shirts one last time then dragged myself out the door toward the publisher’s office.The interview went well. The job was easily mine again, even though the main editor accused me of sloppy work. He told me that I’d need to write better this year than I’d done last year. It was the same story he told every journalist to negotiate lower pay. "You're not a high rolling journalist yet. Don't expect to be paid like one."The degrading comments were just a part of the job as far as I was concerned. He might lowball my articles, but even then, I could manage to pay my bills. So, while that didn’t surprise me at all, what—or, rather, who—I saw when I left his office nearly knocked me onto my rump.Krystal had just turned a corner and happened to walk right in front of me. She stopped, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped, if only for a moment. “Iddo? Is that really you?”I could barely answer. She was every bit the girl—woman—I remembered, but my, how she’d changed, and only in a single year. While her face retained a healthy plushness, she somehow looked thinner, more radiant. She didn’t look like a girl, that much was clear. She had the voluptuous maturity of any American woman I’d seen in the movies. Unfortunately, her personality hadn’t bloomed nearly as much as her figure.I opened my mouth to respond, and in true Krystal fashion, she cut me off and began her own story.“Iddo, I can’t believe I’m seeing you here of all places, especially after you quit studying journalism! You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here. Well, yes, I’m not quite done with my schooling yet. I mean, sort of. You know how it is, I’ve got some college credits, but I’ve still got a good three years left of actual college. But I was offered a chance to leave for an internship here, and, of course, I couldn’t pass up that opportunity. Besides, it was a good excuse to get out of my house. My dad can be so difficult sometimes. But you know how dads can be. The bus ride around the woods took so long and . . .”She droned on for some five minutes. I remembered why I’d found being around her such a chore. Not only was my body tired, but now my mind was going to be drained, just from keeping up with her. I didn’t want to offend her again, especially since she’d now be working here. I was sure she’d eventually tell me all about her soon-to-be responsibilities as an intern, but she was only to the part of her story where she found an apartment. Until I understood what she was doing here, I didn’t want to burn a bridge that might negatively affect my own employment.Over the next week, I saw Krystal two more times. I learned that her new responsibilities involved helping edit and review all articles that came in for publication. She and my chief editor worked closely together. He needed a free laborer to keep up with the work. Krystal was just financially secure enough to not need the income for living on. At least I suspect she didn’t need it, not as long as her dad was still willing to pay her living expenses. Considering his preferred lifestyle, whatever cost it took to get his daughter out of the house was likely worth it to him. But Krystal wasn’t completely devoid of income. She was still allowed to do some freelance articles if she had any spare time. Knowing her, she would find the time. Her goal was to be the face of the news someday. In her mind, she saw everyone recognizing her. From what I could tell, her looks alone would significantly help with that.Like before, I was the first one to settle into the apartment. Jhon and Charles came next. Their parents still drove over in the same cars. The vehicles were just as immaculate as they’d been last year. If I hadn’t known better, I would've assumed they were brand-new.We exchanged brief welcomes. Jhon and Charles were still a bit aloof around me, but I didn’t mind. They were amiable enough to call them good roommates. After hearing some of the horror stories about other people’s roommates last semester, I could easily live with two guys like these, even if one of them always made a mess around the toilet.The day before classes began, Thing Two burst in the door. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in a week. Still, he radiated energy and commenced with overzealous hellos. Behind him I expected to see his sage-like friend, Thing One. But Duy was the only one returning with him."Happy birthday," Duy said with a hard slap on my back. "How was your summer?""Good. I'm surprised you remembered.""You're seventeen now right?""Yep." I said, silence following. What else should I say? I had so many questions to ask him about the Believers, but this wasn't the time for it."So young. But better than sixteen." He hobbled past, luggage in tow. I wondered if Duy and Thing Two had spent some time together over the summer, or if they both just happened to arrive simultaneously.An irrational jealousy crept in on me. Not that I would have cared to spend any time with either of them over the summer. It would have been impossible, anyway. Still, it felt like a mild jab at my own social awkwardness. If they could have developed a good enough friendship to hang out over the summer, why couldn’t I have done the same with Thing One? Did this mean that Duy would no longer want to room with me?The jealousy was quickly replaced by hope. Maybe they would room together and Thing One would have to room with me. Then I might actually get to know him better. The man did intrigue me. Without a doubt, he would be a better roommate than Duy.But aside from the two arriving at the apartment at the same time, nothing else really changed. Duy still roomed with me, and Thing Two took over the last remaining room.As for Thing One, he didn’t show up until the following week. I went to class on a Monday morning and when I returned late that evening he was there. Since I didn’t need tutoring from Duy this year, I hoped that I might be able to develop a better friendship with Thing One.Thing One wasn’t as cooperative. He was still the same guy I remembered, but he had to catch up for missing his first week of school. When he wasn’t working on his schooling, he seemed to disappear. I could swear he was nearly as busy as I'd been last year, maybe even more. His tone of voice reflected that sage-like friend I’d grown accustomed to, but his brow was constantly wrinkled with some unshared stress. Maybe it was his job, maybe it was school. Whatever it was, it weighed heavily enough on him to show, despite his amiability.No matter. This school year was shaping up to be a great one. Nobody could bring my spirits down. I was learning something I was passionate about. I had a good job. Most of all I had a wonderful girl waiting for me, that is, if I could ever find her again. Many of my free moments were spent daydreaming about her. Countless hours of wistful planning were exhausted. One day I'd bring her out. Despite my planning, I wasn’t quite sure how to provide for her; for us.Click here to read Chapter 19Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.