Authors: Felicia Zekauskas,Peter Maloney
Tags: #Summer, #Turtles, #Jaws, #Horror, #Football, #Lakes, #Snapper, #High School, #Rituals, #Thriller
Mary Robinson was chanting and shaking her pompoms, but her heart was no longer in it. She kept looking back over her shoulder, stealing glances toward the painted metal doors of the boy’s brick locker room. They were open.
Suddenly Mary turned to Sandy Danks, the cheerleading captain.
“I’ve gotta go,” she said.
“To the bathroom?” asked Sandy.
“No,” said Mary. “I’ve gotta go and check on something.”
Sandy saw Mary steal another look toward the boy’s locker room.
“You can’t go now, Mary,” said Sandy. “You’ve just got to wait.”
“I can’t,” said Mary. “I’ve got to go now.”
Mary put down her megaphone and pompoms. She ran across the practice field like a gazelle. When she reached the steps to the locker room, she took them two at a time. She ran through the open locker room doors without hesitating.
“JJ?” Mary called out once she was inside. The locker room was an unfamiliar maze of metal lockers and wooden benches.
“Mary?” JJ called back, hardly believing his ears.
Mary came around a corner and saw JJ sitting in front of his locker, his right foot elevated, wrapped, and iced.
“Mary!” he said. “You can’t be in here.”
Mary ignored him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting down so close that the skin of their bare thighs touched.
“I think I’m going to be fine,” said JJ. “Doc Mason says my Achilles isn’t torn – maybe just a little hyper-extended.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” said Mary. “The way your leg twisted – it made me think the worst. I was really worried.”
Mary’s gaze suddenly dropped down to JJ’s bare torso.
JJ looked down too. The claw marks across his chest and stomach weren’t a pretty sight. JJ tried to cover himself with his two hands.
“You don’t have to cover yourself,” said Mary. “I saw them in the paper.”
“I know they’re ugly,” said JJ. “You’re probably disgusted.”
“They’re not so ugly, JJ,” said Mary. “Want to know how I know?”
JJ nodded.
“Because I cut the picture out of the paper,” she smiled. “And saved it.”
JJ blushed.
For a minute they said nothing. The silence and the wooden benches made it feel like they were in church. It was strange to be alone together when practically everybody else in the whole town was just a hundred yards away.
“I didn’t see your father in the stands today,” said Mary, breaking the silence.
“I know,” said JJ. “He had some kind of real estate thing he had to attend in New York. I told him I didn’t mind.”
“Oh,” said Mary, looking into JJ’s eyes like her mind had already moved on to something else.
Then Mary leaned toward JJ. She began to close her eyes and part her lips. Their lips were about to touch when a loud roar made them both jerk back.
“I think somebody just scored,” said JJ.
“Or almost,” smiled Mary.
“You better go,” said JJ. “You don’t want to be in here when the team comes back in.”
“Alright,” said Mary. “If you say so.”
Then she began to chant in the softest, singsong voice.
“Hey, ho, twenty-four, watch me walk right through that door!”
Mary bounced up and started skipping toward the door. JJ’s eyes were glued to her. Mary looked back once and smiled.
“Caught ya!” she said.
Two minutes later, the cleats of forty players came clattering up the concrete steps into the locker room.
“What happened?” asked JJ, as the team burst in. “Did we win?”
“By a field goal!” shouted Ken Lubowsky. “A fifty yarder!”
“Who kicked it?” asked JJ.
“Copeland did,” said Lubowsky. “He limped out there and drilled it through the uprights – with his fake foot.”
* * * *
August explored the lake every morning for two weeks straight. Still he hadn’t seen the slightest sign of Grundel.
Wherever the giant snapper was, it was not being lured out of its lair by the strange underwater vessel that was trespassing in its domain.
And still no one – except Deena – knew what August was up to. Chief Rudolph remained in the dark.
Getting into the lake unnoticed was easy. August went out each morning before dawn. It was resurfacing that concerned him. He surfaced as close to shore as possible, and then quickly hid the sub in the undergrowth that grew right down to the shoreline. Still, in those few minutes, there was always the chance that someone would spot him.
It was Connie Konsulis who eventually did.
Since she had been the one who spotted Jack Sully’s body, Connie also wanted to be the one who spotted the giant snapper. Each morning she took her morning coffee out onto the deck and scanned the lake below. She was sure that one morning she would look out and there it would be: the domed shell of the giant snapper breaking the surface. Connie even put Chief Rudolph’s number on speed dial.
And now as she looked toward the lake’s western shore, Connie saw something strange pop up to the surface. It was too far away to say exactly what it was but she wasn’t going to wait. She hit Chief Rudolph’s number.
“Chief Rudolph here,” he answered.
“I can see it now!” Connie said into her cell phone. “It’s coming out of the water right this second – over on the far shore!”
“Hold on a second!” said Chief Rudolph. “Who is this? And what’s surfacing where?”
“It’s me, Chief. Connie Konsulis! It’s the snapper! I just saw it surface across the lake from me – near the old Andersen cabin. What should I do?”
Chief Rudolph didn’t answer.
He hated to be rude to Connie – her sparkly pink running shorts were still vivid in his mind – but every second counted.
“Hello!” said Connie. “Chief Rudolph? Are you there? Did I lose you?”
She had lost him. Chief Rudolph was already in the front seat of his cruiser, gravel shooting out from its rear wheels as he sped out of the lot.
*
August had just slid his sub into the bushes.
“So that’s what you’ve been up to,” said Chief Rudolph.
August looked up. Chief Rudolph was standing there with a shotgun cradled in his arms.
Like Jack Sully, Chief Rudolph was ready to blast the snapper straight to hell. But there was one thing he wanted the beast to leave behind: its shell. Chief Rudolph wanted to hang it above his fireplace. He didn’t even mind the idea of bullet holes in it. He imagined himself absent-mindedly fingering the holes as he told the tale of how he had killed the giant snapper in Turtleback Lake.
“I didn’t hear you drive up, Chief,” said August.
“I turned off the engine and just kind of rolled in,” said The Chief. “Quiet-like.”
“Well, what can I do for you?” asked August.
“Well, actually, August, I was just wondering if you’ve seen any of the signs that deputy Rhodes has gone to such great lengths to post prominently around the perimeter of the lake.”
“I’ve seen them,” answered August.
“But have you
read
them?” asked Chief Rudolph. “That’s the real question. You know, by law, I could arrest you here and now.”
“And what good would that do anyone?” said August.
“Maybe it wouldn’t do anyone any good,” said Chief Rudolph, “But it’d be a lot better than having a situation in which maybe your little sub there malfunctions out in the middle of the lake and sinks to the bottom without a trace. Then I’ve got yet another problem on my hands.”
“I’ve been coming and going around here for years,” said August. “If I sank to the bottom, nobody would even notice.”
“I’m thinking you’re wrong, there, August. I’m thinking that maybe your new next door neighbor might notice.”
August remained silent. He had the right to.
“All I’m driving at, August – and I’m a reasonable man – is that I’d like to know what you’re up to. You can’t be in on this thing all by yourself.”
Chief Rudolph felt the weight of the double-barreled shotgun resting in his arms. The fingers of his left hand were curled around its cool metal barrels. The fingers of his right hand gripped its smooth wooden stock.
“Well, Chief,” said August. “The thing is – judging from the gun you’ve got in your arms – the two of us seem to want to deal with this problem differently.”
“August – just keep me informed. You hear?”
*
For weeks, the trees in and around Turtleback Lake had been a blaze of glorious autumnal colors. But now most of the leaves had fallen. They were either plastered to the ground or skittering around in the gusts of late November.
People in Turtleback Lake were relaxed about leaf removal. Most houses were in wooded settings. Homeowners just left their leaves lying where they fell. By spring, they would be gone, reclaimed by the earth. They were just another part of nature’s great cycle of life, death, and renewal.
Still, some leaves had to be removed. Like the ones that were clogging the gutters of Dr. Goode’s new home. She wondered who could give her a hand. When she saw JJ leaving school on Friday afternoon, she called to him.
“No more football practice?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Nope,” said JJ. “We’re done.”
“And how about your foot?” asked Dr. Goode. “Is it getting better?”
“It’s pretty good,” answered JJ. “I’ve still got a little limp but Doc Mason says I should be a hundred percent soon.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” said Dr. Goode.
Then after a pause she added, “Actually, JJ, I was wondering if you might be interested in making a little money over the weekend – now that you’ve got your Saturdays free.”
“Sure,” said JJ. “Doing what?”
“Cleaning my gutters,” said Dr. Goode. “I don’t know whether you know this, but I just bought a bungalow across the lake from you. The gutters are filled with leaves and I could really use somebody to help me get them out.”
*
The next morning, Judd was already in the kitchen having coffee when JJ came downstairs.
“How about some eggs and bacon, JJ?” asked Judd.
“I can’t,” said JJ. “I’m late.”
“Late?” said Judd. “Late for what? It’s Saturday.”
“Dr. Goode asked me if I could give her a hand,” explained JJ. “I’m going to help clean out the gutters of her new home.”
Before Judd could say another word, JJ was out the door. A moment later, he was on his bike and on his way.
“That damn woman!”
thought Judd.
Judd ran through the litany of grievances he had with Dr. Deena Goode. Could one woman have caused one man more torment? And Judd partially blamed himself. If he hadn’t recommended Deena to the school board, she would have been long gone. But he had – and now, not only was she the new high school principal, she was also the new owner of a house that he’d been unable to sell! And who knew what was going on between her and that August Andersen? Back in the summer she’d dropped Judd like a hot potato and cozied up to him instead. It would have been better, thought Judd, if she had simply vanished at the end of the summer. What was the old saying?
Out of sight, out of mind.
“And now,” thought Judd, as if Deena were sadistically torturing him, “now she’s got my son doing chores around her house!”
Judd shook his head. He could hardly believe it. He suddenly realized that he hadn’t been simply
thinking
his thoughts in his head like a normal sane person. He’d been saying them aloud – like a deranged lunatic.
The whole damn thing was too damn much.
*
JJ did a double-take when he wheeled into the dirt drive in front of Dr. Goode’s bungalow. Dr. Goode was out front, wearing black stretch pants and a white tee shirt that clung tightly to her breasts and hung loose at her waist. She looked nothing like the woman in a suit that JJ saw every day at school. Dressed like this, Dr. Goode almost looked like a young woman. JJ thought she actually looked pretty good – for a grownup.
“Would you like some coffee?” asked Deena, gesturing with the cup in her hand. “It’s fresh-brewed and hot.”
“No thanks,” answered JJ. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, then,” said Deena. “Then why don’t we get started. I’m not sure how long this is going to take.”
Deena helped JJ lean the ladder up against the side of the house.
“I’ll hold the base,” said Deena. “While you climb up and scoop out the leaves, okay?”
JJ scrambled up the ladder. Soon, sopping wet clumps of sticks and leaves were plopping to the ground. As he reached out, JJ’s shirttails came untucked. Looking up from below, Deena could see the claw marks on the boy’s torso. It made her flash back to the summer – when she had raked the flesh on JJ’s father’s back with her own fingernails. She remembered the red welts they had raised. Judd had moaned and said she was good, very good.
“Not just good,” she had thought to herself before her passion passed and a dark mood set in, “Deena Goode.”