The Hermit of Scarecrow Valley

by Robert Lubrican

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Chapter Five

One of the nurses at the ER remembered Jennifer. She remembered the man in the truck too, and would mention it to her husband that night. But for now she put the things in motion that got Bobby out of the truck and into treatment for post drowning situations. There was still water in his lungs, and they told Jennifer that he would have to stay in the hospital, at least overnight, if not longer. The same nurse who recognized her called Mindy, and handed the phone to Jennifer.

It was an interesting conversation.

Mindy and Jennifer left the front desk of the hospital, headed for the elevators. Mindy had lied, saying they were cousins of Bobby Higginbotham. It was the first time Jennifer had ever heard his first name. Somehow the time had never seemed right to ask him what his name was. Besides, he was an adult, and teens didn't call adults by their first names. Plus he was The Hermit. He would always be The Hermit to her.

Mindy needn't have lied, actually. The hospital didn't really care who visited a patient. When they got to the room, they found him separated from his roommate by a hanging cloth curtain. He was reading a book. His roommate was apparently watching TV on the other side of the curtain. The TV was on, anyway, and aimed that way.

"We have to stop meeting like this," said Mindy, without a trace of humor in her voice.

He put the book down on his chest.

"Hi," he said. "I agree wholeheartedly. Can you get me out of here?"

"I doubt it. I had to lie to get us in here."

"Why?" he asked.

"I didn't think they'd let anybody except family see you," she said.

"Please don't say you're my sister," he said, his voice heavy.

"Why not?" she asked.

What he was thinking was the word: "incest." What he said was, "Never mind. Thanks for coming." He looked over at Jennifer, who was just staring at him. "Thanks for saving my life ... again." The last word sounded almost impatient, or scolding.

"I'm sorry!" she said. "I just came to see you. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared," he insisted.

"You know what I mean!" she hissed in a vibrant whisper.

"I do," he said. "You are forgiven."

"I want you to know my daughter is not going to trespass on your land again," said Mindy, her voice formal.

"Wait!" he said

"Maybe that was the wrong word," said Mindy. "What I mean is that she won't come over any more without notice, and your affirmation that it's a good time for you."

"It's okay," he said.

"No, it's not," said Mindy. "Every time she just pops over to see you, something terrible happens. There has been enough of that."

"But it's not," he insisted. "Terrible, I mean."

"You almost drowned!" said Mindy.

"Yes, but something else happened ... something important." His face was twisting, as if he was in pain.

"What could be more important than almost drowning?"

"I don't know yet," he said.

"What?" She was clearly confused.

"I'm no good at talking like this," he said. "So just listen, okay? I don't know if I can say this or not. I'm still not sure about any of this, but Doctor Zee says it was important, and I believe him."

"Who is Doctor Zee?" asked Mindy.

He glared at her. "Are you going to be quiet and let me talk?"

She nodded, her lips firmly closed. She looked unhappy.

"He's my new shrink," he said. "I mean he's the resident shrink here, and somebody told him I was suicidal, so he came to see me."

"You're -" Mindy started, but then chopped it off as his hand came up and he pointed directly at her. Then he took that finger and brought it slowly to his lips, in the universal sign to be quiet.

"They asked me if I'd ever had thoughts of hurting myself. Like an idiot, I said yes. That was a long time ago. But they all went apeshit and called Doctor Zee and took all the sharp things away from me and all that horse shit." He blinked. "Sorry. Poop. Horse poop." He threw up a hand. "Anyway, it turned out to be a good thing, because he's easy to talk to. So we talked, and I told him what happened ... and he says maybe I'm ready to make a breakthrough, because Jennifer is different than anybody else. But I'm still not sure, and I'm scared, so I don't know what to do yet. But it definitely isn't bad."

Mindy looked at him for a long half minute. "Does any of what you just said have anything to do with you almost drowning?"

"No," he said, almost happily. "It just happened while I was almost drowning."

"But you're going to be okay."

"I'm fine," he said. "Except I need a favor." He frowned. "I think."

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Not you ... Jennifer," he said.

Mindy looked at her daughter. Jennifer was uncharacteristically quiet. Of course that might have something to do with the fact that her mother had screamed at her for going off without telling her, and going to The Hermit's place without telling her, and somehow getting mixed with whatever it was that had put The Hermit in the hospital. Jennifer had been genuinely contrite about it. She'd been really scared this time, and knew things had been very serious this time.

"What could my daughter do for you?" she asked, still staring at Jennifer.

"I need ... Doctor Zee thinks I need ...” He stopped, and was quiet long enough that Mindy looked away from Jennifer and at him again. His face was writhing again. He was obviously in some kind of distress. "He-says-I-need-for-her-to-touch-my-scars!" he gasped, his words crashing into each other as they burst from his lips.

Mindy blinked. "You mean your battle scars?"

Suddenly his distress was gone, and he leaned up off the pillow, his abdominal muscles lifting his upper torso effortlessly.

"How do you know about my scars?" he whispered. "Did she tell you? She told you, didn't she?" And, just like that the distress was back, even worse. He was panting, his eyes wild.

"No!" said Mindy, much too loudly for the environment. But it calmed him. "She did not tell me."

"Then how?" he asked. It was almost a whine.

"When the doctor cleaned your wound ... when he pulled that splinter out of your calf. I saw them then." Her words had no special tone or emphasis.

For the second time in two days, he found out someone had seen his scars, or at least a portion of his scars, and had not reacted to them with revulsion.

"Why would the doctor think her touching them would help you?" asked Mindy. There was only curiosity in her voice.

He was floundering a bit. He knew it. He pushed the call button for the nurse. "Can you hold that thought for a minute?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"Yes," she said.

She waited patiently, watching him, but he did nothing. A nurse came into the room.

"You called?" she asked.

"Yes. Is Doctor Zee, by chance, available to come talk to me?"

"Are you in distress?" asked the nurse. She turned to Mindy and Jennifer. "I'm sorry. You're going to have to leave now."

"No!" barked Bobby. "They need to be here. He needs to talk to them. Is he available? Yes or no?"

The nurse was clearly ambivalent. She knew the psychiatrist was treating this man. She didn't like this. She avoided working the psych ward intentionally. She just wanted regular patients. They hadn't moved this patient to the psych ward, but she was still nervous about him.

"I'll see," she said, stiffly.

"He recommended a treatment," said Bobby, calmer now, "and these people may be able to help with that. I just need him to meet them, and explain some things. I'm not going to freak out or anything."

"I'll see," said the nurse again. She hurried out.

"Please stay," said Bobby, addressing Mindy again. "He can explain it to you better than I can. It's really complicated."

"He thinks she can help you with ... something?" she asked.

"I got hurt bad," he said. "In the war, I mean. Real bad. And it fucked up ... I mean it messed up my mind. I'm better now, but there are still ... um, I think they call them issues. And something happened while she was saving my life today that the doc says is important. It sounds silly, so please, can you wait?"

Mindy had meant for their visit to be in and out, as painless as possible, and as clean as possible. She still liked this odd man, but it was true that whenever Jennifer went over there, bad things happened. Perhaps it was better for everyone that he be allowed to be a hermit, and they go on with their old lives.

But he obviously held no grudge. He even looked happy to see them. At least part of the time ... when he wasn't freaking out.

The nurse came back.

"It will be half an hour. Perhaps a little longer."

"Okay, thanks," said Bobby.

The nurse left again. Bobby looked at them. "Is there any chance I could talk you into going somewhere and getting me a cheeseburger and fries? I'm going to starve to death on the food they serve me here. And maybe by the time you get back, he'll be here."

"You can't tell me about this yourself?" asked Mindy.

"It would sound flaky coming from me," he said. "I know it would. And he can explain how it works. I don't know how it works. All I know is that what happened when she helped me get dressed to go to the hospital ... it was a good thing."

Mindy looked at her daughter. Jennifer hadn't said anything about helping get anyone dressed. She'd just said she shouted at him and he fell in the pool and didn't come up. It was Jennifer's belief that she'd scared him, and he'd hit his head on something ... or something.

"Come with me," she said to her daughter. "It appears we have more to discuss."

"He was taking a bath when I got there," said Jennifer, who couldn't meet her mother's eyes.

"You went in his house and yelled at him while he was taking a bath?!" yelled her mother.

"No, he takes a bath in that big pool of water outside."

"And he was naked."

"Yes."

"So last time he saw your naked breasts, and this time you saw his naked ... everything!"

"I wasn't paying any attention to that," argued Jennifer. "Not when he started drowning. I yelled ... to kind of tease him or something ... and he went all stiff and then fell down. And when he didn't come up I went in after him. My clothes were still wet when you came to get me, Mom!"

"I know that," said Mindy crossly. "I was there."

"Well when I did CPR on him, and he woke up, I knew he had to go to the hospital, like I said. But he was still naked."

"That's the part you left out!" accused her mother.

"So I got some clothes and helped him put them on. He was coughing so hard that he couldn't do it by himself."

"Why didn't you tell me he was naked?"

"What difference did it make?" asked Jennifer. "I had other things to think about."

"Was it hard?" asked her mother.

"Was what hard?" asked Jennifer.

"Don't play games with me, Jennifer Elaine Franks!"

"Oh," said Jennifer. "You mean his ... um ... organ?"

"Organ? You've got to be kidding me," sighed Mindy. "His penis ... dick ... tool ... cock ... his prick, Jennifer! Was it hard?"

Had Jennifer been a few years older, she might have realized that was a very strange question for her mother to ask, under the circumstances. But she wasn't. And she was used to answering the questions adults put to her.

"Not later," she said. "When I helped put his clothes on."

"Not later," mused Mindy. "So before?"

Again, Jennifer didn't think this was a strange chain of questions.

"When I first got there. I saw what he was doing and sort of watched for a little bit." She looked away.

"And it was hard," suggested her mother.

"Yes. He was washing it."

"Over and over, I bet," said Mindy, irony dripping from her voice.

"Yes."

"So you watched him masturbate, and then jumped out and yelled at him? It's a wonder you didn't give the poor man a heart attack!"

"I didn't think he would mind!" complained Jennifer.

"And what in the world convinced you that surprising a man while he was jerking off just wouldn't be a problem, Jennifer?"

"Well ... he had seen me sort of naked ... so I thought ..." She shrugged.

"And what did you think would happen then?" asked her mother, no longer sarcastic. "Did you think the two of you would play show and tell, and laugh and have tea?"

"I didn't think about that at all," admitted the girl.

"And that is the problem," said Mindy.

When they got back, grease-stained bag in hand, there was a short, balding man with a Van Dyke beard standing beside the bed. He and Bobby were chatting amiably. The man looked at them and beamed. He spoke and his voice came out heavily accented, as if he had been in the U.S. only a very short time.

"I am Dok-tor Ephriam Zebelstrauski, und I am zo de-lahted to meet you." He stuck his hand out. As Mindy shook it, he said "Ferry, ferry de-lahted, I am indeed! You must call me Dok-tor Zee. Efferybody does."

"You're the psychiatrist?" said Mindy.

"I am, indeed, ze head schrin-ker!" he said, clicking his heels together. He looked at Jennifer. "Und you, my dear, are ze young vuman who has rrrre-paired somezing in Bobby's head!" He rolled all his 'r's in a ridiculous manner, but smiled so much it was impossible not to like him.

"Could you explain that?" Asked Mindy. "How could she do anything to help him ... um ... mentally?"

"Ach!" said the doctor. "Hee's pheesycial inchuries - zey are long time fixed. Boot up here," He tapped his head with one finger, several times, "he ees still vurried zat peeple vill be horrified ven zey see dese scars. Yes?"

"I understand," said Mindy. "But they're just scars!"

"Ex-actly!" bellowed the doctor, clearly elated. He turned to Bobby. "I see vat chu mean!" Then he turned back to Mindy. "It zeems, mah dear, zat you, and your beautiful dotter, here, do not rrrrreact to zeze scars as do most ozzer peeple. You are not disgusted by zem ... yes?"

"Of course not," said Mindy. "It's terrible that it happened to him ... that he had to go through that, but they are only scars. He got them protecting us. How could we possibly dishonor him by being so shallow as to be disgusted by his scars?"

If the doctor smiled any wider, it seemed as if his face would split in two. He had a gold tooth, which seemed odd, somehow.

"Zeese attitude is goot for heem," said the doctor. "You make heem feel normal, yes?"

"He is normal!" insisted Mindy.

The doctor looked at Bobby. "I like zeese vooman ferry, ferry much. Zey must both touch your scars, if you please."

"What is all this about touching his scars?" complained Mindy. "If it bothers him for people to see them, it must surely be worse for people to touch them. Why would you want us to hurt him?"

"May I ask a q-vestion?"

She nodded.

"Vood eet bozzer you to touch hees scars?"

"Of course not!" she yelled.

"Vell," he said calmly. "Eet bozzers efferyvun else. Zey vill not touch heem. Zey trrrreat heem like he has disease."

"That's awful!" said both Mindy and her daughter at once. It was as if they had practiced.

"Can you see how haffing zomeone touch heem, who ees not distressed by eet ... might be helpful?" The doctor raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug at the end of his question.

"Oh," said Mindy.

"I touched him already," said Jennifer. "When I was helping him get ..." She stopped, and blushed.

"I told him about that," said Bobby. "I told him how it didn't seem to matter to you. It blew me away. Nobody has ever touched me like that before."

"Nobody?" Mindy's voice almost broke.

"Don't cry," begged Bobby, urgently. "They all cry. They all pity me. I don't want pity."

"Of course," said Mindy, wiping her eyes. "It's just so sad that people can't see past ... that."

"Zo!" blurted the doctor. "You vill do ziss ting?"

"Touch him?" Mindy shrugged. "Of course. Why not?"

"I love zees vuman!" barked the doctor.

But then he was all business. He invited the women to come to the bedside, one on either side. He told Bobby to roll over onto his stomach.

"Now?" There was panic in his voice.

"No time lahk zee prrrresent!" the doctor belted out.

"Shit," groaned Bobby. When he rolled over, the hospital gown he was wearing gaped open, showing everything he had.

Including hundreds and hundreds of puckered, white scars that covered his back, buttocks and the back of his legs.

Both women gasped at the enormity of it. They both saw his shoulders tighten ... his whole body, actually. To Jennifer it looked almost like what had happened when she yelled, was going to happen again. Instinctively she put both hands out and pressed them to his mottled back. The skin was hot. He stopped moving, but it was different this time. It wasn't so tense. Mindy added both her hands, on the other side, and whispered, "Relax, Bobby. It's fine."

"Ohhhhhhh," he groaned. His upper torso shook, then, and they could hear sobs coming from the pillow his face was buried in. They looked at the doctor, who smiled sadly, now, but motioned for them to move their hands.

For the next ten minutes, the two women slid their hands over every inch of his body they could reach. Jennifer tried to touch each, individual scar with her forefinger. It was a coping mechanism, because the damage was so horrific, but her mind handled it well. Mindy did his buttocks, but that was fine with Jennifer. He cried, and every once in a while he jerked as if someone had touched live wires to his body, but eventually he calmed. When he stopped crying, and turned his head sideways, they stopped sliding their hands, and just let them lay on his skin.

"Zis vas goot, yes?" said Doctor Zee, softly.

Bobby nodded, rubbing the side of his face against the pillow. "Zees vas goot," he aped, tiredly. Then he craned his neck to look at Mindy. "Thank you. I can't believe it. I can never repay you for what you did for me today."

"We'll see about that," said Mindy, her voice light.

"Anything," said the man on the bed, who felt fully relaxed for the first time since he could remember. He'd always been alert ... on guard ... worried about people reacting badly to him. Now, at least with these two people, who he had only known for a month or a little more, he felt fully human again. "Anything you want ... I will do it for you."

"We'll see about that too," she said softly.

And then she leaned down and gently kissed a scar on his back.

That much intimacy, between people who were really just barely friends, was a bit much for them all to take. When Doctor Zee left, things got uncomfortable, somehow. Bobby was still lying on his stomach, his entire backside exposed.

"I can't turn over," said Bobby, as his face got red. "Could you pull the sheet over me?"

"Of course!" said Mindy, doing that.

To her it was obvious why he couldn't turn over. She was close, but not enough to get the cigar. While it was true that Bobby wouldn't have wanted to turn over and flaunt his manhood in the first place, the intimacy of what had just happened had affected him deeply, creating a kind of passion that resulted in a diamond hard erection. He had almost ejaculated, which was one reason he had been sobbing. It had been so long since he'd felt the loving touch of another human being, that he had ignored the guilt his erection caused. But now that guilt was back. And he knew himself well enough to know that this kind of erection wasn't going away without some specific attention. So he had double the reason not to turn over.

"I'm kind of tired," he said, as the sheet settled lightly on the skin they had so recently stroked.

"We'll just go," said Mindy.

He wanted to beg them to stay, but he couldn't. Not then. Not in the condition he was in. He did push with one arm and twist sideways to face Mindy.

"Thank you," he said, his voice full of passion. "I mean that. And I meant what I said. Anything you need ... just ask."

"I know," she said.

She suddenly wanted to kiss him, and there were flutters in her belly she hadn't felt for years. She knew she needed to get out of this room before she made a fool of herself.

"Me too," said Jennifer, with a little girl voice. What had happened had affected her deeply too, but she didn't have the life experience to sort that out as quickly as her mother did. She was still jittery with the passion of touching him, and knowing that it was somehow special.

Instinctively, Bobby rolled towards her, completely forgetting his condition. Still, it was instinct to grab the sheet, pulling it across his abdomen. At exactly the same time he said, "Yes! You too. Thank you so much!" he realized that he had just put on display what he had been trying to hide. His eyes bounced from Jennifer to her mother, who was staring straight at the clear outline of an engorged penis under the sheet. Looking away from her to Jennifer, he saw her look at her mother's face, and then follow her gaze, until her eyes too were suddenly pinned to the shape of his arousal.

"I'm sorry!" he gasped, reaching with both hands under the sheet to cover his rock hard prick.

"It's fine," said Mindy, but her voice quivered. It could have been fear. It could have been polite disgust.

But it could also have been desire, straining to be unleashed.

"We'll just go now," she said again, and headed for the door.

Jennifer stood, still looking at his hands, under the sheet. She understood what an erection meant. She even had a pretty good idea what had led to this one. But this, like what had happened before, was somehow very important, and yet very mysterious at the same time. She had never shared anything this close with a male. Not since her daddy had left. She could remember only one hug from her father. And that one smile on his face after that hug. It was how she remembered him. This felt as good, somehow. It felt so good that she didn't want it to end. Her conscious thought was fragmented. They were leaving. She knew that. But she knew they'd see him again. They had to. Something important had happened, and it wasn't over yet. But she didn't want to leave. She wanted to touch him again ... to hear that thing in his voice that had made her feel like she could save the whole world!

Her mind was in such a whirl that she reverted to habits associated with leave-taking.

"Bye!" she chirped.

And then she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

The kiss affected them all in different ways, even though only two of them actually participated in it.

For Jennifer, it was a nice kiss, except it was confusing. She had kissed him just like she'd kiss one of her male relatives at a family reunion, or something like that. But it had felt completely different than one of those kisses. Her senses were so attuned, that she felt the texture of his lips on hers, the roughened, weathered cracks on the chapped skin there, caused by the time he spent outside. That texture was hard on the surface, but soft underneath. She could feel warmth below that hard, cracked surface, and she wished she could get to that warmth. It was for that reason that the kiss lasted longer than a normal "bye bye" kiss would have lasted.

For Bobby, the shock of feeling lips on his was almost as stark as the shock of when their fingertips had first touched his scars. Unconsciously, he gripped his hard cock with one hand, and squeezed.

For Mindy ... she simply wished she'd had the courage to do that.

Out in the hallway, the two women exhibited opposite characteristics. Jennifer was bouncy and happy and actually skipping. Her mother was much more subdued.

"Why are you so grumpy?" asked Jennifer. "He's going to be fine!"

"I'm not grumpy," said Mindy.

"You're not happy," said Jennifer. "We did a good thing in there. The doctor even said so!"

"I know, sweetheart. But that kind of thing causes feelings."

"Of course it does," said the girl. "That's what's great about it."

"Not if the feelings are too strong," muttered Mindy.

"What?"

"I'm just not used to things being that intense," she said.

"Well, I think we should do it again."

Mindy felt the flutters under her belly button again. She remembered the outline under that sheet. And Jennifer had said he was masturbating in that pool, before she jumped out and scared him almost to death. Literally, it seemed. He obviously had feelings too, and that was something she hadn't entertained before. She had assumed that a hermit would want to remain one, and that if he didn't have a woman in his life, it was because he didn't want a woman in his life.

Had he rolled over on purpose? Just to show them what they had done to him? Had they, in fact, done that to him? That certainly hadn't been her intention when she had kissed his back.

She was thinking about it so intently that she stopped, as Jennifer walked on ahead, unaware she was now alone. Her daughter turned a corner and disappeared.

Mindy reviewed carefully everything that had happened. It had been an emotional situation for all of them. He couldn't have known it would actually happen. He even resisted, at first. Unless he was a consummate actor, he hadn't planned any of it ... including that erection. And he had remained on his stomach after she covered him up.

She realized now he'd been embarrassed about it. And that made that erection genuine in a way she wasn't sure had happened to her ever before. Oh, Mark had gotten hard for her. From the very beginning he'd sported a hardon. He took great joy in "complimenting" her, as he called it, by pointing it out. And he'd been a horny bastard too, always ready to slide that erection into her. That was why she got pregnant, because he wanted to fuck even when they were out of protection. He had no control over his balls. It had broken up their family, in the end.

But this was different, somehow. What they had done wasn't overtly sexual, other than being able to see his naked backside. It had a much loftier purpose than merely causing a boner. And she was absolutely sure that loftier purpose had been met too. Like Jennifer had said, even the doctor said a good thing had happened.

Of course the doctor hadn't been there to see that huge outline under the sheet. She blinked. She remembered it as huge. Was it? Now the image got fuzzy in her mind. The only one she'd ever seen was Mark's, and his was definitely smaller than the one that had been under that sheet. But Mark's was the only one she could imagine, and it slowly replaced the fuzzy image of something bulging under a white hospital sheet. She felt the insane urge to turn around and go back to the room. She'd tell him it was fine, and not to worry about it ... that she wasn't offended ... that she understood how the emotion in the situation might result in an accidental erection. Then she'd ask to see it ... just to see how big it really was.

"Mom!" came Jennifer's shout. Mindy realized it was the second time her daughter had called to her. She blushed, remembering the silliness of her last thought.

"Don't yell!" she yelled. "I'm coming!"

"What are you doing? What's wrong with you?" asked Jennifer.

Mindy wondered the same thing.

"The Scarecrow Valley Scandal," as it would be known for the next fifty or so years, until no one was left alive who was around when it happened, took place in July of that year. Just about anything that happened, concerning The Hermit, was of interest to the general population that enjoyed gossip. And, of course, people who enjoy gossip all think everybody else does too, so they share it with everybody, even those who don't want to know. So folks heard that The Hermit was in the hospital. That led to nosy people finding out this was the second time he'd come to the hospital within a short time span, and that both times, Mindy Franks and her daughter were somehow involved. Less information was available about Jennifer, because at least the hospital employees protected the privacy of a juvenile, if not The Hermit.

Nobody really knew anything about The Hermit, except that he showed up one day and started living on old Pat Sullivan's place up in Scarecrow Valley, just north of the Monument. Over the years, his status as a hermit was established, and a few wild tales got spread around about him. Most people didn't know that much about Mindy Franks either. They knew she bought her place at auction, and those who had bid against her knew how much she'd paid for it. They knew she had some kind of stay-at-home job, which most assumed was stuffing envelopes or some such thing. Magazines had been full of those advertisements for a long time, about how you could make hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, working at home, with no risk and only a day or two a week. Some folks believed she'd jumped on that bandwagon early on, before all the good envelope-stuffing jobs were gone and they started handing out the crap.

Jennifer was better known, if only through other kids her age, who talked about her at home, or wherever. She was a bookish girl, who didn't run with the popular crowd, but wasn't in the Chess Club either. She was one of the jocks, but didn't stand out. People didn't think much about her at all, really.

As it happened, the nurse who objected to having a crazy man on her ward, and whose name was Cynthia Williams, had a seventeen year old son named Jerry. Jerry did run with the popular crowd. He was the "star" quarterback of the Hill City Eagles. Star is put in quotes in this situation to make it ironic, because The Eagles hadn't won all that many games with Jerry at the helm.

So when Nurse Williams went home and complained at the supper table about how unhappy she was that "that wild man" was going to be on her ward for another two days at least, Jerry was unintentionally informed that The Hermit's property was now unguarded.

Some of the stories about The Hermit included those about legendary parties held on his property in years past. Had anyone stopped to analyze these stories, they would have seen immediately they were nonsense. But no one did that. Kids like Jerry didn't think about the fact that nobody ever seemed to know who these legendary partiers had been, who put one over on The Hermit, flaunting the danger and pulling off a party right under his nose.

Rather ... kids like Jerry just yearned to be able to say they had done the same thing.

So Jerry promptly put together a party, to be had on the Hermit's property. There hadn't been one in years, because The Hermit chased everyone off. But he was laid up in the hospital, and finally there was a place to have a blowout summer party, a place where it would be safe to have the three things required for a blowout summer party: sex, drugs and rock and roll. And Jerry Williams would secure his place in history by arranging the whole thing!

Now, truth be told, "the popular crowd" at Hill City High only contained a little more than a dozen kids. It was a small school, really. But within that group, sleepovers were suddenly popular. For the rest there was a sudden desire to go camping. Only two had to make plans to sneak out, and others promised to give them a ride to and from the festivities.

Liquor cabinets were carefully raided, but all of the kids in this group had connections, and most had money. In the end, when all were assembled, there were four quart bottles and three fifths of hard liquor, six cases of canned beer, and three grocery bags filled with jerky, Twinkies, licorice, candy bars, chips and dozens of other snacks. Jason Marshal's contribution was half a pound of high grade, Jamaican Marijuana. Everybody knew he'd bring that, which was why there was so much junk food brought along.

To say the group of rowdies was delighted when they got to The Hermit's residence, would be an understatement on par with saying, "The sun gets hot." Within minutes, Cheryl Butler had found the pool and stripped naked to jump in it. Her boyfriend, Brad Stover found The Hermit's rifle, lying where it had been when he was taking his bath and almost drowned. Brad, having all the brains of a cockroach, pulled the trigger to see if it was loaded, and a 150 grain soft nose 30-30 bullet was launched, missing Haley Peterson's head by two inches, and going through one wall of the "Cute little shack" that Anita Craft wanted to see so badly that she had convinced her boyfriend, Andre to try to break in. She spun him a tale of there being a bed inside, and once she'd said "Wouldn't you rather have me on a nice soft bed?" he was all about trying to finagle the lock or pull some hinge pins.

Things calmed down when Brad fired the round. He claimed he'd done it on purpose. Justin Davis took the rifle away from him. Being a hunter, he was familiar with weapons, so he unloaded the rifle by working the lever until no more bullets dropped into the leaves. He put the rifle in his truck, but left the bullets where they lay.

Renee Stephenson had everybody else move their cars farther up into the yard so she could park her SUV near the pond. It had the best sound system. By the time she got the doors open, a CD going and the volume cranked up, there were six or seven nude revelers in the pond, and everybody else was shucking their clothes. Beer and liquor bottles were opened. Joints were rolled. Mike Nelson showed Andre how stupid he was by turning the knob on the door and pushing it open easily.

Within two hours, everybody was drunk and happy. An ounce of dope had gone up in smoke. Everybody had been skinny-dipping in the pond, and all the girls had been fucked at least once.

They had pretty well trashed The Hermit's home in the process.

Jennifer would not have gone to investigate, had not Justin gotten so high that, when he saw a squirrel scampering along a branch, he decided to "hunt that fucking squirrel." He crawled around on his hands and knees in the fading daylight, scraping through leaves and grass, until he had found two of the discarded 30-30 cartridges. Getting the rifle out of his truck, he loaded it and, naked, set out to "stalk the beast."

Everybody thought it was hilarious to see a naked boy, carrying a rifle at port arms, being chased by an equally naked Robin Highland, who drunkenly shouted at him to "forget the fucking squirrel and come fuck me instead!"

It was the two gunshots that Jennifer heard. They were faint, but they were undeniably gunshots. They also came from the direction of The Hermit's place, and since The Hermit was in the hospital, she got her bow, and quiver, and took off through the twilight. She made it there in record time, arriving just as the sun sank behind the mountains.

She heard the music from far off. She didn't even have to be quiet on her final approach. Taking a page from Bobby's book, she climbed a tree, going ever higher until she could find a place to see over the screen of gooseberry, blackberry and raspberry bushes that Bobby had planted all around his house.

Her eyes were drawn to the bonfire first. It was huge, the flames leaping ten feet into the air. She saw two naked boys scampering between the woodpile and the fire, throwing piece after piece of wood on it. Next she saw people at the edge of the pool, also naked. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. It still looked like a boy on top of a girl, having sex.

She got back down and went closer. She got down on her belly and crawled under a bush, inching forward until she could see. Now they were only fifty feet away.

It was Mike Nelson on top of Renee Stephenson by the pond. It looked like he was killing her, slamming his lower body against hers over and over again. She was screaming, but even Jennifer could tell it wasn't in pain or fear.

She saw movement in her peripheral vision, and looked to see Jerry Williams, holding a whisky bottle, with his arm around Haley Peterson. They were both naked, and Haley had her hand between her legs. She appeared to wipe her fingers upwards and then pulled her hand up to peer at the fingers. She licked them. Right behind them was Jason Marshal, and his girlfriend Charlene Hatrup. They were naked too. Both boys' penises flopped limply down from their pubic hair.

The sound of something breaking - something made of glass - came from inside the house, and there was laughter.

Jennifer's blood boiled. She knew all these kids. They were all jerks. And now they were ruining The Hermit's house ... burning up his wood and breaking his things.

Robin Highland came running from between the house and garage. She was naked and laughing, squealing "I'm not a squirrel. I'm not a squirrel!" Justin Davis was right behind her. His penis was hard, and waving up and down as he ran. He had a rifle in his hands, and he yelled "Stop, squirrel! I want to eat you!"

Something cold settled in Jennifer's stomach. She recognized Bobby's lever action rifle in Justin's hands. It must have been the sounds of that gun that drew her here. She wanted to scream.

But she didn't.

Instead, she scooted back. Her shirt moved up and she scratched the tender skin on her belly as she wiggled out from under the bush. She stopped, and pulled her shirt down once, lest her naked breasts be bared and suffer the same fate.

Once out, she moved in the fading light, walking in a complete circle around the party. She got as close to the cars as she could, but a double pair of feet protruding from the open back door of one of them told her that at least one of the cars was being used for sex too, so she backed away from them.

Her final count was twelve, but she wasn't sure about that. She had moved to where she could see into the open door of the house, and she had, in fact, seen Brad Stover lying on his back on the couch, with Cheryl Butler bouncing up and down on his hard penis. But there might be more she couldn't see. Bobby slept upstairs. There was no light on up there, and somebody might be using his bed.

In the end, she was at a loss what to do. She wanted to go home and have her mother call the sheriff. But what if they left before anyone got there? It would be her word against theirs. There would be plenty of evidence that somebody had been there ... but not who.

She suddenly remembered she had her bow. She'd been carrying it for what seemed like hours, but had somehow forgotten she had it.

On impulse, she drew an arrow and nocked it. She didn't know whose car was whose. But the big SUV with the doors open and the music blaring out was blocking all the others from getting out, so she chose that one. She pulled, aimed, and let one of her precious hunting arrows fly. She was astonished at how easily it penetrated the tire. Even with the loud music, she heard the sharp tip hit the wheel inside, and the shaft of the arrow bent, lying at an awkward level. Despite the noise the partiers were making, she could hear the hiss of air escaping the tire.

She felt exultation, and the, almost immediately, terror. She had just shot somebody's tire! It was ruined! Her mother would kill her!

While she was in the middle of thinking about that, an arm appeared out of the dark and encircled her from behind, trapping her bow arm against her body. The hand at the end of a different arm covered her mouth.

She had been caught!

END OF PREVIEW

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