The Well Read online

  Anthony Schultz

  Copyright 2012 by Anthony Schultz

  West Prairie Village was halfway between a traditional trailer park and a roll ‘em out neighborhood. Half the people lived in what had been deemed the ‘upper part,’ which was a shamble of manufactured homes and trailers from about the 1950’s to the 1990’s. The intelligently named ‘lower part’ was dedicated to new development and included only manufactured homes from the last decade and beyond.

  The lower section was laid out like a city planner’s wet dream. The houses were in nice neat rows and every lot was perfectly level. The newer section included a small park that included several saplings and a small jungle gym and swing for the locals to enjoy. Only the kids from the lower section played in the park because the kids from the upper neighborhood never intermingled with the children from the newer part of the manufactured community. It wasn’t so much that the kids on either side thought that they were better or worse than the other side—they just didn’t play together; oddly enough they also had separate school bus stops even though the number thirty-eight school bus picked them both up and only seconds apart.

  I lived smack dab in the middle of the lower park and was still adjusting to the move. My family had been at West Prairie for a couple of years, but it was still a lot different than the city bound apartments I was used to sleeping in. The cars and traffic always put me to sleep, but now the rattle of the nearby train passing (or the howl of a distant coyote) woke me up most nights.

  However, the one good thing about moving was Blake. Blake didn’t live in West Prairie—hell, he didn’t even live in the city, but we both attended the same school out in Oaksdale. We didn’t hit it off at first, but once we did we were inseparable.

  Today, Blake’s parents had dropped him off at my house, and within minutes of his parents backing out of the driveway we were off on our bikes weaving around each other, laughing at each other’s jokes. We decided to ghost ride our bikes down main street, because it had the best hill for biking. It was the perfect spot to get your bike going, then jump off, and let the bike ‘ghost ride’ its way down the hill till it careened to one side or another. We would jockey back-and-forth trying to out do each other as one watched and the other took his shot at the longest ghost ride.

  This time Blake was watching, and I was up.

  “Watch this,” I said as I hopped on my ten-speed and began peddling.

  The wind whistled through my hair as I sped down the barely paved road. I had to time it just right, or I would risk falling onto the now fast moving asphalt. I flipped my left leg over the middle bar, balanced on one pedal, and then deftly jumped off-- Letting the bike ride straight and lonesome down the road till it teetered off to the right and plummeted into the ditch. As soon as it crashed into the brush I chased after it and hauled it out (with several brambles stuck to my jeans). I strode out of the trench and awaited my ”Yay!” or “Nay!” from Blake.

  “Yay?” I said quizzically.

  “I’d give it a seven if I were to put a number on it.”

  We could hear the sound of a car coming around the bend, so we quickly grabbed our bikes and ducked down Mansfield Lane--crouching letting the wind slick our hair back.

  “What do you wanna do now?” I asked.

  “I don’t know—we could ride out to the drainage field, or go to the park? We could ask Kayla if she wants to come out and play at the park with us?”

  I noted how Blake casually brought up Kayla as if he had just thought of it on a whim. I would keep that remark to myself, because after all I had nothing to do but hangout with Blake today and I didn’t want Blake irritated with me.

  “I don’t know…” I trailed off.

  “How about we go ask Kayla?” Blake said more eagerly.

  “Fine, but don’t get weird if she comes out to play.”

  “I don’t get weird,” he replied curtly.

  “You get weird,” I said more matter-of-factly.

  “No, I don’t,” he said, more irritated this time.

  We rode in silence until we saw Miss Tracy’s fat cat, Bugs. He put Garfield to shame and at the moment he was lazily roasting himself on the roof of Miss Tracy’s Chevy Blazer. We both turned to each other and laughed at the same time.

  “That cat must be at least fifty-pounds! He’s huge!”

  I laughed again. In a better mood already I said, “Ok, lets go ask Kayla.”

  Blake smiled ear-to-ear.

  A minute later we were standing outside of a grey single-wide, with our bikes crashed in the front yard, knocking on Kayla’s door. Moments later a bright-eyed Kayla answered the door with a huge grin on her face.

  “What do ya want?” she said with a smile.

  “We were wondering if you wanted to come out and play?” Blake said, “We were thinking we could ride bikes, or go down to the park?”

  I just stood there with a dumb grin on my face. Blake was the one who liked her and, at that time, if I had known what a wingman was I would have realize that I was playing the part to a ‘T.’

  “Sure,” she said, “just a sec.”

  “Mom, I’m going out to play with Blake and his friend!” she shouted. She closed the door before a reply could even be made or much less heard.

  Soon, Blake and I were back on our bikes and Kayla was lazily walking down the middle of the street smacking her lips. Blake was desperately trying to keep a conversation going, but even to me it sounded forced. Kayla didn’t even seem to notice, but her general responses of “Yes,” “No,” and “Maybe” were either the product of a poor intellect, or the precursor to the tease that Kayla would one day become.

  Once we reached the park Blake and I ditched our bikes in the grass and started towards the bark surrounded jungle gym.

  Off to the side Kayla suddenly said, “What’s that?” pointing towards a gated shed.

  “It’s the well for the houses,” I said, without even thinking, or looking to what she was pointing to.

  “I think it’s open!” she said excitedly and began jogging over to the structure.

  Blake of course followed her; I followed Blake. The well-house was situated on the far side of the park, along the perimeter, and was always sealed off by a chain link fence and then a padlocked door. However, today for some reason the gate was wide open and the padlock was mysteriously missing. The grass was overgrown inside the gate and the sunlight barely penetrated the darkness of the shack’s door, which was slightly ajar.

  “I don’t think we should go in there,” I said, “we’ll get in trouble. Plus, what if someone just opened this and they’re coming right back?”

  “It’ll be fine,” Blake, replied, “we’ll just check it out for a minute. We’ll be in and out before anyone notices.”

  I shot Blake an angry ‘this is stupid’ glare. He got the message, but merely rolled his eyes at me in defiance.

  I caved. “Fine,” I said, “but only for a second.”

  Holding Kayla’s hand as he did so, Blake slid through the doorway first. I followed, but stood in the entrance looking out.

  “Hurry up. I don’t want to get in trouble,” I repeated, obviously aggravated.

  I told myself that it was the trouble I was afraid of, but in reality it was the well-house that frightened me. When I had played at the park before I had never paid much mind to it, but being inside a place I wasn’t supposed to be in coupled with the tingling sensation I had creeping down my spine gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  I could hear the repetitive “jug-a-lug” as the well-pumped water continuously rose from the aquifer.

  “What do you see?” Kayla whispered to Blake.”

  “Not much. I think there’s a ladder here though.”

 
I ducked into the well-house and groped for Blake. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw Blake peering down the stone well shaft and Kayla crouched beside him. There were tools and miscellaneous parts propped up against the wall, but the central part of the room showcased an open hatchway revealing a large hole that lead into the bowels of the Earth. I crouched beside Blake and looked towards the door.

  “Dude, don’t do this. It’s not worth it.”

  He whispered back, “I have to man. She’s expecting me to.”

  I had a sinking suspicion that this would be a common occurrence with Blake and women, as we got older. I pleaded with him for a bit more, but it was all but useless. He waved me off and stubbornly started down the well.

  I was nervous and paralyzed with indecision as Blake disappeared from eyesight. Kayla just stayed crouched leaning over the well—not moving or saying anything.

  “What do you see?” I shakily said. My cracking voice echoed down the stonewalls into the blackness.

  “Nothing yet,” Blake said, “I see a faint light at the bottom though.”

  It was only a few seconds but time seemed to stretch and it felt like hours had passed since Blake began his descent. Kayla’s silence unnerved me the most though. I thought that I might appeal more to her and that she could convince Blake to come back up the well, but that thought was fleeting.

  I heard a distant splash intermixed with the background noise of the underground pumps.

  “Blake! “

  “There’s a small room down here and the whole floor is covered with water.”

  Blake’s voice was distant, but still clear. I wanted to say, “Duh,” but I bit my tongue.

  “Ok, you proved your point—you’re cool. Now come back up here.”

  “Wait, I think I see something moving.”

  “It’s probably just the pump or something,” I shouted, “climb back u—“

  My words were cut short by a blood-curdling scream that echoed upwards. I suddenly heard the splashing of water and then gargled yelling. Kayla’s silence finally broke as she let out high pitched shriek and began crying. I stifled a scream myself before finally finding my throat again.

  “Go get my parents,” I hastily shouted at Kayla.

  I began climbing down the well.

  I didn’t even see if she had left or not. I almost didn’t care--I was so scared and nervous. I was shaking so badly I had to stop at several rungs in order to keep myself from falling. I could feel my chest throbbing; my heart was racing. Blake’s screams had stopped, and once again all I could hear was “jug-a-lug.” All I could picture was my best friend dead in the water—all because he wanted to showoff. I hastened my decline. I slipped and I practically fell off the last rung. The water splashed as my Converse struck the two-inch high layer of blackened water. My eyes were trying to focus as I looked around. There was light, but like Blake had said it was faint. I listened to let my ears do the guiding. I could hear shallow breathing off to my right in the little stone room Blake had mentioned earlier. However, accompanied with that sound was a more arduous breathing that sent chills down my already tingling spine. I slowly crept forward trying to keep quiet, while still hurrying.

  As I moved further into the room I saw Blake laying face up, not moving. I rushed over to him. He head was bleeding, but he was still breathing. I could see his chest gradually rising and falling. I looked around cautiously still letting my eyes adjust to the minimal lighting. I could still hear the other noise coming from deeper within the room. I felt afraid. Finally, my pupils decided to cooperate and allow the maximum amount of light in. I stood up, took a step forward, and saw one of the most horrifying things that I have ever seen.

  A man sat against the wall. His head was faced downward with his wrists shackled and his arms stretched high above him. His breathing was rapid and labored. He wore what looked like shorts, or shredded khakis, with no shirt, and his left footed occasionally spasmed. Grey, rawhide-textured skin stretched clearly over his countable ribs. There were bones littered about him and suddenly the sweet, coopery smell of blood hit my nostrils. I almost vomited in revulsion and fear.

  Instinctively, I took a step back.

  His hair was long and dreaded with grime, and it moved as his head slowly rose.

  “Hi there,” the man calmly and coldly said. He smiled.

  I went to scream, but before my brain could signal my vocal cords, I stepped back, tripped over Blake, and then—blackness.

  I don’t remember my dad carrying Blake or I out of the well. I don’t remember being woken up and asked my name and birthday by my mother throughout the evening.

  When I did finally find consciousness I tried to tell my parents about the man in the well, but they ‘shushed’ me back to sleep. I awoke once more in the middle of the night to the sound of the nightly train passing by. The conductor blared the whistle as he crossed the main road. I started to doze as the Coyotes started up their response to the noisy train...and then I heard from the shadows…”Hi there.”