Re-visionist: Story One
Introduction: This is the first draft of the first story in a series of short stories I’m currently researching and writing. Over the years, I have voraciously consumed any true crime stories I could find. While I find them fascinating, I'm always left saddened. I'm not embarrassed to admit that I have often fantasized about alternative endings; realities in which the victims were saved from a lonely and terrifying fate.
It’s impossible, in reality to revive the innocent victims of these crimes. Instead, I attempt the second best thing, and give them an alternate ending; a ressurection; correcting hideous reality. I suppose it’s because of my own fears, anxieties and sorrow over the grim human reality of murder that I’m doing this. As a writer and artist, I can only use the mediums at my disposal to express this regret at humanity’s greatest shortcoming. Art and writing, after all, are portals to alternate realities, in which the person holding the pen reflects their most ambitious desires. And nothing, of course, is more ambitious than reviving the dead.
The sun hadn’t been up long enough to have yet warmed the grass, but the heat from it pierced the Spring chilled air and beat down on Len and Huck’s shoulders. The air felt crisp, and Huck thought it was going to rain. Len disagreed. Huck’s horse was only a short distance ahead, and Len watched hypnotically as her chestnut tail flicked back and forth between each step. The tail continued to sway even after Gracie had stopped. Without skipping a beat, Len tugged at Bandit’s reins too; the motion was almost robotic – automatic- and it wasn’t until Bandit was still before Len raised his bored gaze up to where his brother was watching. Huck was staring at the rickety old barn that sat at the edge of their property.
“What’s it?”
“Huh? Talk right, Len.”
“What is it?”
“There’s something fuckin’ movin' in the old barn.”
“Probably those feral cats again.”
“No. It was bigger. Look.”
Len saw the sway of a body and a shadowed arm lift up, and then drop back down again. They approached the dilapidated wreck from the side where they knew they could find the largest part of the wall missing. Large pools of rain water were edged at the corners of the sunken wooden frame. As they got closer, Huck called out.
“Hey! This is private property!”
A small, pink and white face peaked out from around the corner. As they neared the old man, Len could see him more clearly. His eyes were framed by sagging flesh but were nonetheless rounded in surprise and a pair of thick glasses hovered over his nose. He was slouched over and looked troll-like. Len suspected the old man thought the lot completely abandoned, as their modern ranch house was set a good deal off the main road and out of sight. As they approached, he straightened up his back and he stuttered out an apology.
His shirt and jeans were rather clean looking, with only the occasional yellowed stain on the white polo he was wearing and his shoes, save for newly caked mud, weren’t much older than a few weeks, maybe. He wore a red windbreaker streaked in old stains of what looked like motor oil or grease.
He stepped up front and center, and introduced himself as Benny. He explained how he was having car problems and just stopped for a short rest before continuing on to look for help. He waving his hands animatedly just short of Grace’s nose; the mare flinched and raised her head before shifting her weight uneasily.
“Where you parked?”
“Just up the road thataway.” the old man pointed vaguely.
Huck squinted into the distance, keeping his peripherals set on the interloper.
Len’s gaze drifted from the old man’s flailing white hands, behind him into the darkness. He saw a slight twitch in the shadows and refocused his gaze. Another, small white face stared directly into him. He felt a pull towards it. A magnet pushed and pulled him; begging, hesitant, terrified. The figure shifted closer, and he saw the glint of two dark, round eyes. It took Len a moment to realize what he was seeing before he flinched in surprise. The figure did too. He got a hold of himself and tugged Bandit closer towards the darkness. The old man talked louder and addressed Len directly.
“If you could give me a ride up to your house, I’d be mighty appreciative.” He sputtered.
Len ignored him, peering into the darkness. The figure edged closer to the light. A girl. She stood up on wobbly legs and lurched toward them, keeping her distance from the old man.
Despite her disheveled appearance, she was wearing a black evening dress and high heels. Her black hair was newly cropped and matched her wide, darting eyes.
Nobody spoke for a few moments, before the old man cleared his throat and said, “It’s okay to come on out, Jenny. You don’t need to be afraid of ’em. They’re here to help.”
The girl was watching the man, seemingly for permission. He walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“This is my brother, Len. My name’s Huck.” Huck said softly.
“I’m Ben Rogers. You can call me Benny.” The old man leaned forward to clasp Huck’s hand. “This here is Jenny-“
“Cochrane?” Len interrupted.
The old man winced. Both Huck and the girl had wide, confused looking eyes. He changed the pitch of his voice.
“Jennifer Cochrane? I haven’t seen you in years! Boy you’ve grown! You don’t remember us, I can tell.”
Len stared holes into the girl’s black eyes. Like a deer caught in headlights, she couldn’t look away. The old man’s grip tightened on her shoulder, his nail digging in through the sleeve of her dress.
“Your daddy told us you’d run off somewhere. Didn’t expect you to end up here! Serendipity, I tell ya!”
Len turned to stare into Ben’s sagging eyes. “Thanks for finding her mister. I’ll be sure to get her to her daddy. Come on, Jenny.” Len turned back to the girl, patting the saddle in front of him and grit his teeth. Come on. She hesitated.
“Come on, Jenny. Don’t tell me you forgot how to ride. If you can do it barefoot, you can do it in heels.”
He thought he’d lost, until the girl slipped, defiantly, from Ben’s clutch. All the while looking over her shoulder, she stepped towards Bandit and switched her gaze to Len. Len watched old Benny. Smiling wide he fished the girl up into his saddle. She was as light as straw.
“Gracie can’t handle more weight. We’ll call for a tow truck for your car. Can we bring you anything from the house? What kind of car did you say it was? A blue cutlass?”
The old man nodded his head and pulled his grimace into a smile. It was awkward looking, Len thought.
“In the meantime, you’re welcome to rest here longer, sir.”
Benny said nothing. Only waved and smiled.
On the way back to the ranch house, Len kept looking over his shoulder. He could feel the girl’s shoulder shake against his stomach.
“What the fuck was that about, Len?” Huck’s brows were knitted. “What’s going on? Jenny Cochrane? My high school girlfriend?”
“It’s the first name that popped in my head.”
“No, shit. What’s your name, girl?”
The girl cleared her throat and answered between whimpers.
“My name’s Regina.”
“Where you from?”
“Pasadena.”
“Pasadena? Where’s that?”
“Texas.”
Len sensed the girl’s exhaustion and decided to save the questions for the visit to the police station.
As the horses plodded closer to the house, Len took one more look back over his shoulder to see a dark figure wrestling among the weeds and brambles in the distance, hurriedly trying moving towards the road.
As he turned back around in his saddle, the sky opened up and the rain began pouring down on them.