Walking back through the woods, I've never felt this particular type of shame. What was I supposed to do though? Take a beating like a man?
Fight back against three Neanderthals? All that would do is infuriate them more. The physical bruises I can take, but I just can't be humiliated like that in front of the entire school. Not again.
On my walk back, I think a lot about my parents. What they would have thought of the person their six year-old son has become. Dad was never a fighter, but he had at least seemed to have that particular gift of charm that allowed him to talk his way out of nearly any situation. At least that's what Joe tells me. I don't remember that type of stuff myself. All I can remember is how strong he seemed to me as a kid, like nothing could ever possibly hurt him. Not even forty-three stories of concrete and steel.
I like to think Mom would be proud of me, no matter what, but I know deep down that I only feel that way because she was my mom. They're supposed to be proud, even if their kid turns out to be a loser who can't even form three coherent sentences in front of a member of the opposite sex.
Maybe at least, she would have been able to give me some advice about how to not simultaneously come off as both a creep and a weirdo to literally any girl I find even mildly attractive.
The woods seem darker now than they had when Luke and I started our trek out here. The full moon has disappeared behind the clouds. Am I even going the right way? The trees in front of me look familiar, but I suppose that's only because they are trees.
All trees look familiar to if you stare at them long enough in almost, pitch-black darkness.
I hear something off in the distance. An animal? Yeah, probably just an animal. I remember specifically requesting reassurance from Luke that there were no bears out here.
I keep walking, a little bit quicker now. I hear it again. Is it human? It can't be. Maybe it is and it's just from the party. No, there's no way. The party is at least fifteen minutes in the other direction. I can't hear the music any more, so there's no way I'd be able to actually hear a person.
Another scream.
Okay. That is definitely a person. I can hear it more distinctly now. It was a cry. It could be one of those weird animals that sounds like a person. The way a crying cat can sometimes sound almost exactly like a baby. But it's not a cat. Something is wrong, I can feel it.
I don't know what I can do but I know there's one thing that I can't do, and that's live with myself if I simply ignore what is obviously the sound of someone in trouble.
Maybe it's someone from the party? Maybe they're hurt? Maybe it's Lexi. Maybe she came after me once she heard I was kicked out, but fell and twisted her ankle on a dead tree branch. I could swear the party is still in the other direction, but to be honest, I'm completely turned around and really have no idea.
The cries are getting louder as I approach but it still seems far away. As I get closer though, I can hear words. One word in particular: "help" in between weeping. What is going on? I still can't see where the calls are coming from but I'm scared. I reach into my pocket to get my phone. There's actually a signal. This small comfort assures me, that at the very least, I'm not inside a horror film.
I call 911 and wait. What if I'm wrong? What if it's just someoneplaying a prank and now I'm the buzzkill that called the cops into the woods, who will surely find the party and at the very least, shut it down, if not arrest Adam and his friends.
The thought paralyzes me for a second before I hear a click and the operator on the other end."911, what's your emergency?" The operator asks over the phone."Hi. Um, I'm not sure what my emergency is, but I'm in the woods andI can hear someone crying for help," I say into the receiver.
"The woods? Can you be more specific sir?" she asks.
"Near mile marker, forty-five on Brooksdale Highway. Maybe about a ten minute walk north," I say.
"And your reason for being in the woods, sir?" she asks. Damn. I hadn't thought about that."Uhh, hiking," I say.
"Hiking? It's nearly midnight, sir," she states plainly.
"Night hiking. Listen, I think this person's in trouble, you have to send someone out here," I say.
"Can you see where the cries for help are coming from, sir?" she asks.
"No, I cannot," I say."Okay sir, stay on the line please. We do have a Missing Child alertactive right now in your vicinity, so we are dispatching a unit immediately,"she says.
"How long will it be?" I ask.
"They are ten minutes away from your location," she tells me. A blood curdling scream rips through the quiet night air. Whoever this is, they're in trouble. And they're close.
"Did you hear that?" I ask.
"No sir. Please just stay put and a unit will be there as soon as they possibly can," the operator says. No way. Ten minutes just to get here by car. It'll take another five minutes on foot, even if they're running, and if they're heading in the right direction. I can't be sure of that.
"I have to get closer. I can't wait that long. This person sounds like they're in trouble," I tell the operator.
"Sir. Please. This could be a dangerous situation. I need you to stay right where you are," she says to empty air.
I won't be able to live with myself if there's something terrible happening down there and I did nothing to stop it. Whatever it is, I realize that it's not a good idea to head down there alone with my phone making any noise.
I knew I should have read those instructions and figured out how the mute function works. I reluctantly hit the End Call button and begin walking towards where I last heard the screams. One thing about being quiet while walking through the woods at night: it's very hard to be quiet while walking through the woods at night.
It's like every single, dry leaf and dead branch found a way to form a path exactly inthe direction I am heading. I don't even actually know where I'm heading any more.
The crying stops. Suddenly, the lack of crying or screams is scarier thanwhen they sounded like they were only fifty yards away. I feel all alone in the woods. Why did the crying stop? Who made it stop and how did they do it?