Mossy grabbed his hand and pumped it furiously; “I’m…” he almost faltered and gave his real name, “Frank Rodman, pleased to meet you. How is old Matt, is he still in town?”
Chris’s face clouded and he cleared his throat, “My father was killed on the base. There was an explosion in ’44. Everyone was killed.”
Mossy shook his head slowly. How could this be? He struggled with what to say next. “Matt wasn’t in the service when I knew him. I was transferred before the explosion. I lost a lot of friends in that disaster, I just never knew he was one of them.” At least I can be honest about something, he thought.
Chris smiled a faraway smile. “He was on the base for an interview. He was writing for the town paper. My mom says there was a lot of talk back then about the base. My father was going there to try to break a story. Talk was that it was more than just an ammo depot. My father had a source on the inside. He was going to interview General Gunlinger, the guy in charge of the base. Turns out my dad was on to something. This guy Gunlinger just killed himself. Made some weird comments in a suicide note.” Chris shook his head “I don’t remember my dad at all. My brother and I were just rug rats when he was killed.”
Mossy couldn’t blink back the tears this time and they ran slowly down his face. That bastard Gunlinger really covered his tracks. He even set up Matt to be on the base the day of the explosion. “Your dad was a fine man and a brave one too. I’m truly sorry to hear about this.”
“Thank you, Frank.” Chris wiped his own tears away and glanced at his watch. “If you want to hang here for a bit, I’d be happy to drop you off at Chandler’s. I’m closing in about twenty minutes; you can grab a cold drink and the paper and save yourself a walk or cab fare.”
“I’d be much obliged. You’re sure it’s not out of your way?”
“Not at all. I haven’t seen Betty in a while, anyhow. I’ll introduce you,” he smiled slyly, “it’ll be just about supper time by then.” He winked and headed toward the office.
He tried to absorb everything during the short ride through Haven. How it had changed! Many of the old farms were gone, new housing developments now stood where the barns and pastures used to be. The amount of stores in the center of town was overwhelming. Many of the streets had changed to the point where he didn’t even recognize them. Chris chatted the whole time, like they were old friends. He talked mostly about people in town, some whose names rang a bell. Mossy tried to steer the conversation to the present situation. “I thought I saw a story in the paper about a murdered child.”
Chris turned to look at him, frowning. He could feel Chris’s eyes trying to read his expression. He tried to keep his face open, friendly. Chris turned back to watch the road. “Terrible thing, it’s like sixty-one all over again.”
“Sixty-one, what is that?”
“Nineteen sixty-one, when this happened before.” He wiped his glistening forehead again, “It was hot as blazes that year, just like this, and now it’s starting all over again.” He banged the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, making the car swerve slightly to the side of the road. Mossy waited, giving him time to continue on his own. He didn’t want to seem too curious and draw any suspicion.
“I was nineteen and my little brother, Jake, was eighteen. Irish twins, as they say. Bad things started happening in Haven, kids disappearing, some found all torn up, some never found. A bunch of us went out to the lake to do some fishing. There was me and Jake, my girlfriend Lori and her little brother, Kevin, and one of Kevin’s pals, Willie Decker. They were only nine or ten, just little guys. We always traveled in a pack by then, safety in numbers as my mom used to say. Anyway, Lori and I wanted to go over to the rocks and dive in to cool off. It was hotter than Hell that day. Little Kevin and his friend stayed down at the shore, fishing. Jake said he’d stay with them. He was half-cocked but promised to keep an eye on them. We older kids had been drinking a bit. What else would a bunch of teenagers be doing on a hot summer day?” he looked at Frank, his eyes begging understanding, if not forgiveness, “Anyway, Lori and I were diving in, having a good time, fooling around a little on the rocks, when we hear screaming. We get back down there as fast as we can and Willie’s gone.
“Kevin was hysterical, ranting about Willie being taken by a monster. Jake was drunker than we thought, said he slept through most of it.” He paused to wipe his face again, tears instead of sweat this time. “All I heard was that Willie was in the water. Lori and I dove in and kept going under, thinking we could find him, save him, but Willie was gone. We finally had to give up before we drowned ourselves. I grabbed Jake and made him tell me everything he remembered. He said he was half awake and Kevin told him he was going into the woods to pee. He thought he dozed off again and was dreaming when he heard Kevin screaming. I remember going over to Kevin; the kid was probably in shock. I knelt down in front of him and asked him what he saw when he came out of the woods. He said he saw a monster come out of the lake. When it touched Willie he fell asleep and the monster dragged him into the lake. Then he just started crying and shaking.
“When they finally caught the guy, it was easy to see why the little kid thought he was a monster. His face all fucked up like that. He is a monster. The Butcher. People figured he wore Scuba equipment, came out and injected Willie with something, then took him. The crazy part is that Kevin never believed it. He actually testified in the guy’s defense, swore it was a real monster that took his friend. A lot of weird things went on that summer. A long time later, when Jake was really drunk one night, he told me he didn’t sleep through the whole thing. He said he woke up when Kevin first screamed. He said Kevin was right. He never said anything more about it, drunk or sober. Though it’s hard to find him sober even if you tried. Now this guy is back, out of prison, and kids are dying again.”
“I’m really sorry, Chris, I didn’t mean to bring up all these bad memories. I was just trying to keep up the conversation. I’m very sorry about your brother.” Mossy was stunned. He thought of the impact his life had had on this one man’s family. How many other families were ruined? Like a stone dropped in a pond (or lake), the ripples just kept spreading wider and wider. He shook his head, trying to maintain his composure. And what about the guy they call the Butcher? After rotting away for all those years to finally get out and face the same fate all over again? He had to do something. “Do the police really think this guy would come back here after all that time and start killing again? He’d have to be insane.”
“Don’t you think it’s insane to kill children anyway?” Chris snapped.
“Of course, but the killer was so clever to have eluded the police before. Why wouldn’t he move to a town where nobody knew him if he was going to kill again? That’s all I meant.”
“I know. The same question bothers me. It just doesn’t make sense. Over twenty kids disappeared back in ’61. Almost all summer the town lived in fear of him. He would certainly know that if he came back and another kid disappeared, he’d be the first suspect. I just don’t get it. Maybe he is just crazy.”
“What about your brother, is he still here in town?”
“In and out of the drunk tank, mostly. Most everybody thinks its guilt, blaming himself for not watching those kids and letting Willie get taken.”
The old man licked his parched lips, “Is that what you believe, Chris?”
He waited as Chris struggled with the question. “No. You’ll probably think I’m either crazy or a drunk myself but I believe he’s trying to forget something. Something he saw that day at the lake.”