Throwing Stones

If you grew up in rural North Carolina in the early 2000s like I did, you would know that two things are true; there is just about nothing to do at any given time and everyone there is either way too nice or a complete asshole. There is no in between. But I don’t want to talk about the people of NC today… I want to tell you all about something that happened to me and my brother around 2002. I was eight years old and my brother Darren was ten. Darren and I were really close back then and spent a lot of time together. If we weren’t playing Dreamcast or Xbox we were outside wrestling on the trampoline or playing basketball. When none of that seemed to suffice we would throw stones.

Now, we wouldn’t throw them at each other but one of us would pick a target (most of the time a skinny tree or our mailbox) set a distance and see who could hit it first. With a gravel driveway and a dirt road right next to the house there was no shortage of rocks. The thick woods behind our house also gave us ample amount of targets. As kids, this throwing stones game, which we aptly called See Who Can Hit That Thing We Chose First would keep us entertained for hours. It got to a point where we’d hit nearly every single tree on the mile long wood line. It was starting to lose its charm. It was on one of these days that Darren proposed an idea.

“We should go in the woods. I bet there are millions of trees in there! We’d never run out of targets.” I looked at him in disbelief but also in curiosity. He was much more of a risk taker than I was but in the moment I couldn’t tell if he was being serious. Our moms had made it explicitly clear that we were to never go in the woods. Funny thing is, they never fed us silly stories about monsters, or strangers but rather stories of real life dangers. What if you fell and broke your leg and we couldn’t hear you calling for us? What if you climbed a tree and were too scared to get down? It made perfect sense to me as to why we shouldn’t go in the woods but like I said, Darren was a risk taker.

The dinner table was quiet that night. The sounds of forks and knifes scraping ceramic and ice cubes settling in our cups were the only thing keeping the impending silence away. It was a rare occurrence, but it was never a good one. Whenever our moms were quiet like this they were normally building up the courage to say something us kids didn’t want to hear. For clarifications sake, my mom’s names are Tracy and Sara. Tracy spoke first, though she spoke softly. “We saw y’all out by the woods today. Just talking… not throwing things like you usually do.” Sara picked up after that.

“You two aren’t thinking about going in those woods are you?” She was always more stern than my other mom; more strict on discipline as well. “We’ve told you numerous times not to go in there. You could,”

“Get hurt or get lost.” Darren cut her off, “I know mom. You’ve told us a billion times.” At that moment I wanted nothing more than to sink into myself and disappear until the yelling match that was going to ensue was over with. Sara’s face turned beet red and I was almost certain she was going to explode but Tracy put a hand on her shoulder and simply said, “Calm down, Sara. Go back there and relax for a bit. I’ll clean up and put them to bed.” Tracy pointed down the hall to their bedroom before looking back at us and giving a reassuring smile.

With a deep breath Sara stood up and began walking to the bedroom. A very low, sorry, you two, escaped her as she went. Once she was gone Tracy started gathering up the dishes and taking them over to the sink. “Before you both go to bed, be sure to brush your teeth. You can stay up a little later tonight in your room if you’re quiet, but only if promise me not to go in those woods.” She turned back to us. The look on her face was dead serious. “I mean it. It’s dangerous out there, Sara is right about that.” She sighed, “Look-I was a kid once too and I know it seems like we’re trying to ruin your fun but I promise we’re just trying to keep you safe.” A soft smile finally broke her more serious demeanor, “I love y’all. Now, go get some pajamas on and go to your room. Maybe grab a board game from the hall closet before you go.”

In unison we said, “We promise,” then left for the small bathroom to brush our teeth. Once our mouths were minty fresh we picked out Battleship and headed to our shared bedroom. Most kids our age I’m sure would have hated the idea of a shared room but Darren and I were only 2 years apart. We had much more in common than most brothers it seemed. The only thing we couldn’t agree on, and would argue about constantly was who got which bunk. I preferred the bottom bunk because I was afraid of heights.

Darren wanted the bottom bunk because he would get up to pee in the middle of the night about 90% of the time. These arguments were usually ended by him saying, “If I pissed myself on the top bunk, it’d soak through the mattress and drip all over you.” Within seconds I’d be throwing my blanket and pillow up there. That night Darren got his wish of bottom bunk using that exact argument. After a few rounds of Battleship Sara stopped by our room to apologize again about dinner, and tell us goodnight. Tracy did the same not long after turning out the lights as she left. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

Sometime later I was woken up by a bright flash of light. I thought at first it was lightning because when I opened my eyes and looked around the room, it was pitch black. I sat in silence, waiting for another flash or a crash of thunder but there wasn’t one. I was confused but decided it was best to just go back to sleep so I rolled over. But then something else caught my attention. Something I recognized; a certain sound that, at this time of night, only meant trouble for Darren and me. I sat up quickly, “Darren! What are you doing?”

He groaned, “God dammit, Marcus. Just go back to sleep, man.” I was working my way down the bunk beds ladder as he spoke. “I don’t need your help with this. I’m just gonna go and come right back.” I was right in front of him now, able to see his face as my eyes had adjusted to the darkness of our bedroom. I knew exactly what he was planning to do. I grabbed his arm and said, “Darren this is stupid. Just go back to bed; we’ll go out there tomorrow.”

Yanking his arm away he said, “No! I’ve been planning on doing this for about a week. I even snuck into mom’s room and took the batteries from their back massager for this flashlight.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes like an annoyed parent, “Look, man. When I brought this up to you today, it was to test you; to see if you were ready to do something like this with me.” He looked at me hard; his deep brown iris’s looking almost as black as his pupils in the low light. “But you’re not. So I’m going alone and I’m gonna figure out what’s out there.” Within the next few seconds he was out the window, and running off to the woods; the ray of light from the flashlight flailing around as he went.

I watched that light continue on into the dense forest being frantically shown around, slowly becoming harder and harder to see. A million thoughts raced through my little pre-pubescent brain at the time. Was he going to be okay? Had I overreacted? Had I not done enough? Should I go tell my mom’s? Should I go with him? That last one caught me off guard. At any other moment in life that question wouldn’t have even come up as a possibility. I wasn’t like Darren; I didn’t do stupid things like going into the woods our mom’s told us not to especially in the middle of the night. But maybe, I thought, maybe I could turn something stupid Darren had done into something smart for me.

It made sense at the time but looking back making the decision to go out into the woods to look for Darren, with no flashlight, was the most idiotic thing I could have done. I should have gone to Sara or Tracy, and told them what Darren had done. I’d never live it down, and he’d call me a tattle-tale the rest of my life, sure, but he would be safe. I could have fought him harder about going in the first place. I could have done so many things… but I chose to crawl out the window, and run off to the woods… just like Darren had.

I remember it being far colder than I’d anticipated. It was mid-November and going out there in nothing more than my pajamas, and shoes with no socks only made the idiotic decision to go, even more idiotic. Darren hadn’t grabbed his coat either; they had been hanging by the door in the living room and it was far too risky to sneak out there and grab them. At the tree line now I could barely my house. Nearly every light was off except for a bathroom, and the overhead light on the stove. I worried about not being able to find my back but I rationalized that if I found Darren, he’d have the flashlight and we could go back together.

The first step into the woods was the hardest one. The sound under my feet changed from dirt and sand to thick, crunchy leaves and moist sediment. The further I ventured in, and the further away my house was, the quieter everything became. There was little to no sound from wildlife, no creaking of trees threatening to fall; even my own footsteps seemed subdued. The small amount of moonlight peeking through the forest roof provided just barely enough light for me to see where I was going. I thought I was going in a straight line, but truthfully, that would be imp-

Something caught my foot and I was sent forward so quickly I didn’t have time to throw my arms out to catch myself. The unforgiving forest floor knocked the wind from my chest and as I rolled over on my back, looking up to the sky, or rather the tree tops that towered over me, I thought for a second I was suffocating. It was the first time I’d ever experienced something like that and so my childish mind went immediately to, I’m dying. Of course, I wasn’t dying, and after some moments I was able to pull in enough air and gather myself to a point where I could stand. When I saw what tripped me, though, all of that breath left me again.

It was Darren. He was lying on the ground, the flashlight beside him broken beyond repair, and his head facing away from me… and he wasn’t moving. Even as a kid I knew something was wrong. I knelt near him and rolled him over to face me. Darren was always lighter-skinned than I was but in this moment his skin had faded into a pallor that left him nearly unrecognizable. His lips were darker now, and his body was rigid and ice cold. The most horrifying part though were his eyes… or lack their off. All around his eye sockets were cuts and slashes that left them void of anything that resembled an eyeball. It was like staring into two black holes.

I slowly backed away, trying to hold back a scream when I bumped into something equally as freezing as Darren was. It wasn’t a tree and it had quite some give to it. Slowly, I turned expecting the worse… and that’s exactly what I got. Just a foot or so from stood a boy, no older than Darren. He was almost completely naked safe for a pair of jeans that were too big and tied tight with twine. He was white as a sheet, looked dirty, like he’d been rolling in mud and his hands were covered in dried blood and dirt.

He then lifted his hands to his face, covering his eyes before opening them up revealing two eyeballs. He held them there like the Pale Man from Pan’s Labyrinth laughing, and whooping loudly; he was happy about what he’d done and was gloating about it. I should have done something about it. I should have punched him, fought him like Darren and I used to do sometimes when we were angry… but I didn’t. I just screamed at the top of my lungs and turned tail to my house hoping that I was going the right way.

I was still screaming when the house, now fully lit up came into view. In the driveway I saw two police cars parked next to my mom’s van and both of them Tracy and Sara holding each other under the glow of our floodlights. I yelled out to them causing them both to run to me and meet me halfway. They pulled me close, not caring about the dirt, or grime on me. They didn’t even care that I’d pissed myself at some point during the whole ordeal with the little boy; they were just happy I was safe. It felt good for a moment. Until Sara said, “Where’s Darren, sweetie?” Her voice had become hoarse from crying. I just looked at her, tears welling in my eyes now, and shook my head. They both knew what I meant.

***

A lot of what happened after that is a blur. I remember my mom’s both crumpling into each other when they realized Darren wasn’t coming out of those woods alive. It only got worse when the police found his body and began talking to me about what happened. I broke down the story over and over again but they eventually chalked it up to an animal attack. Most likely something that was very hungry given it attacked a human. This was due to the fact that no one else was found in the woods. They searched nearly 5 miles in, even going overhead with a helicopter, and found no sign of the boy I mentioned, or signs of anyone living out there.

Eventually the woods were closed off, and my we moved out to small apartment in a much more crowded area of town. They couldn’t bare being close those woods; or any woods rather. I was never really punished. They knew, even if I had imagined the little boy, finding Darren like that was punishment enough. Years down the road I’d get into therapy, eventually coming to terms with the loss, and almost convincing myself that my mind had created some horrifying scenario to understand what happened; almost, but not quite. And that’s because as the years went on, I kept tabs on that old place.

Once I was out of high school, and staying on my own I’d find myself driving by there to see if anyone had taken our place. Someone always had, and I can’t blame them. It was a beautiful house, secluded and private; perfect for a new or developing family. And that’s always what it was; a mom and dad, sometimes two moms or two dads but no matter what they always had kids. Some had one, some had three; I remember one time I saw 5 kids all piling into an SUV. It was a family home through and through… but no one ever stayed long.

On my many trips to see the house I kept note of the fence that stood at the tree line. Year after year it would fall further into disarray until eventually one panel fell completely. Eventually numerous news stories a year about children going missing while out in those woods would pop up. Only says after it had been published, the house would be put back on the market for dirt cheap. Some new family with a shoestring budget would slide in, throwing their life savings into that house. They’d tell their little ones over and over again to never go in those woods but kids never listen.

After the 9th kid went missing, the house was torn down, the forest blocked off completely and anyone who thought about going in there was subject to a misdemeanor trespassing charge. That was quite some time ago, though. Just this past year, on the anniversary of Darren’s murder I threw back a few cold ones. For some reason it was hitting me much harder this time around and in my drunken stupor I made the decision to drive back down to that now vacant lot. I drove slowly and luckily for me there was no one else on the road.

Pulling up to that lot was something else. I could’ve sworn that if I focused enough I could see that house, still sitting there, waiting for some unsuspecting family to waddle their little ones in, ultimately to someone’s demise. But it wasn’t the house that did it, was it? No. It was those fucking woods. The six foot tall fence still stood strong. It was weathered, sure, but it was holding well. Not being able to help myself, I picked up a little rock, chose a specific plank of the fence and sent the rock sailing. I managed to overshoot it, the rock striking a tree some way back past the fence. I laughed to myself. Why was I here? Just to dwell on something I can’t fix?

*tink*

The sound caught me off guard. I looked all around me, called out if anyone was there but I didn’t see or hear anything. As I worked through what my story would be if the police showed I heard it again, though this time it was much clearer.

*tink*

I turned my head just in time to see a small rock roll off the hood of my car and onto the ground. Pulling my phone out for the flashlight, I investigated and found the rock that made contact with my hood; it was covered in blood. Throwing it to the ground I ran around to my trunk, pulled out a tire iron, and flashlight. Before I knew it, I was scaling the wall and running full speed into the woods looking for any sign of my attacker. Thirty minutes passed and I took a moment to collect myself. The adrenaline had sobered me up some and I had a moment of clarity. What the fuck was I doing out here? What did I expect to find?

I had let this grief and guilt get the best of me. Just as I was about to leave, call this quits and put all that behind me, a small stone came sailing toward me from the darkness ahead. I managed to duck out of the way and point my flashlight in that direction. The ray of light illuminated a figure; a man. He was white as a ghost, wore jeans that was far too small for him, and had blood dripping from his hands. He looked to me and smiled before putting his hands to his face, covering his eyes, and revealing the eyes of an animal. It was the same kid. It was the kid who’d killed Darren.

Rational flew out the window and I gave chase, intent on doing to him what he did to Darren. Though he was fast, my adrenaline pushed me to speeds I didn’t know I could reach and when he was within reach, I swung the tire iron down resulting in a disgusting, wet crunch. I’d brought it down so hard I fell to the ground, giving him ample to time to run off. I wanted to get up and chase him again, but I knew I’d never find him, alone, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I left the woods, my body fighting every step as the adrenaline wore off, and I called the police saying I saw someone roaming around the property while I was out.

When they finally arrived the sun was starting to come up. I explained in greater detail what happened and while the police seemed to think I’d finally gone off the deep end, when I showed them the tire iron that was now stained with dried blood, they took things more seriously. A bloodhound was brought out and the trail led to the man I’d seen. He’d bled out overnight and much like Darren his body was stiff and turning blue. They believed at first the man was clutching a weapon but when they looked closer, and brushed away some leaves the saw that it was actually a hatch.

The police discovered a young woman and the bodies of a man, and another woman along with numerous animal carcasses. Their bodies were far beyond identification but after taking woman in for questioning it was determined they were brother and sister. The older man and woman were their parents. From what I pieced together from articles online, and various news outlets on TV it was estimated the man and woman had taken their kids down there in late 1999 for fear of Y2K.

Once that came and went, the parent convinced the children the only way to stay safe was to live off the land. The articles say the family believed the food in the stores had been tainted with some form of radiation brought on by the fall of computers and electronics. It was quite the conspiracy theory to read and it landed the young woman in an institution for treatment. She isn’t suspected to last long, however, because she developed kuru; a neuro-degenerative disorder brought on by eating human brains. From what I understand, the food stashed in the bunker had run out, and the children had thinned the small animal population quite a bit. When their parents died, they turned to cannibalism. It’s painful to think that Darren would have faced the same fate had I not been there.

The forest was destroyed a short time later through many controlled fires and the bunker was cleaned, and filled with concrete ensuring no one else could venture down there. Sara and Tracy handled the news about as well as you’d imagine when I’d told them, and with both of them getting a little older, I think I’m going to move closer to them. Maybe even try and convince them to move in somewhere with me so we can all be further from that dreaded place. In the end I think I learned something… when your parents tell you to not do something for fear of you being hurt, it’s probably best to listen.