Chapter 2
During his lonely bicycle ride home, Kyle’s senses were keenly tuned to traffic on Catherine Avenue. Any sudden noises like roaring engines or blowing horns startled him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so jittery. Mental snapshots of the accident played continuously in his head; images of Adam bleeding, the bloody tombstone, Vance’s sorrowful expression, and Adam’s bicycle wheel wedged beneath the SUV. He thought it may be easier to walk his bike home instead of riding it. He wished he was home now, in his quiet bedroom.
Avoiding any discussion of today’s events with his parents was imperative. It could easily turn from a discussion about his injured friend into an inquisition and lecture about why he was there, what he did to cause it, and traffic safety. False accusations and innuendo are not what he needed right now. He needed a place to set his emotions free.
An image of Vance’s face popped into his head. He’d never seen such an excruciating look on his good friend’s face. The three of them had been close friends since the fourth grade. They were in the same classes in school, lived down the street from one another, and often hung out together on the weekends. Getting physically hurt was just part of playing; getting hacked while playing basketball, falling down and scraping up arms and legs while racing, and getting tackled a little too hard while playing football, were all part of having fun. If hurt bad enough, crying or yelling was inevitable, and they all had experienced it at one time or another while growing up, but this was different. Adam was seriously hurt, but Kyle wondered if Vance was hurt even more. Would their relationship change next time they met?
About a half-mile from the cemetery, Kyle turned left off the main street of Catherine Avenue and onto Elwood Drive where all three boys lived. This eclectic street was similar to most streets in the small city of Southern Pines. The house styles varied from small colonials to ranches and bungalows and almost all the houses brandished well-fed lawns. The concrete sidewalks running along both sides of the street offset the deep green grass. The houses and lawns may have been neat, but the street’s surface was just the opposite. Zigzagging black tar lines sealed the fractured asphalt from the effects of the winter weather and spring thaw, making the boys stick to the sidewalk because it was much smoother than the street.
The boys lived on the same side of the street, not far from one another. Adam’s house was the closest to Catherine Avenue, and Kyle fought the strong urge to go tell Adam’s parents what happened. As strange as it may seem, he felt all of their parents where in cahoots, trying their best to blame anything they could on their teenage sons. He’d definitely seen it from his own parents, and Adam’s parents were just as passionate. Fortunately for Vance, his parents were a bit more understanding, but if they suspected anything, they would be on his ass in a minute. Kyle spotted two cars parked in Adam’s open garage meaning his parents were definitely home. He stared at the house as he pedaled by.
Just down the street sat Vance’s home with his father’s blue Century sedan parked in the driveway. His dad kept it meticulously clean, just like his yard, and this diligence rubbed off on Vance. Vance kept his bicycle clean and well oiled, his shirt was always tucked into his pants, and his short afro was always combed and shaped. Being invited into Vance’s house was like entering a very nice hotel. Everything was in order, even Vance’s room. Kyle couldn’t understand how he could be so neat. What enchanted Kyle the most, whenever he entered Vance’s house, were the smells. The fragrances in each room were crisp and fresh. His mother kept snacks at the ready, and Kyle and Adam would come over just to indulge in them. They knew Vance’s mom seldom said no, and Vance didn’t seem to mind them taking advantage of her like that. Kyle wondered if he would ever have more fond memories at Vance’s house.
Kyle’s home was just four houses down from Vance’s, and although he was almost home, he didn’t feel much better. He wanted to get into his room without being seen by his mother. If she saw him, that meant he had to conceal any expressions of fear or remorse, but he knew he sucked at that. His mother, like most mothers, could usually sense when something’s wrong, so the best thing to do was to avoid her at all costs.
He turned into his driveway and peddled towards the back of the house. He parked his bike on the backyard lawn, leaning it against the house. He usually stored it in the garage but the garage door made an awful racket when it was raised. Plus he wasn’t sure if he was coming back outside or not. He opened and closed the back door as quietly as possible, and stepped lightly across the kitchen’s slate tile floor. His sneakers barely made a sound. Something good was cooking in the silver pot on the stove, maybe something with chicken or beef in it. He was hungry, but it had to wait for now. He continued creeping across the floor, but tried not to appear as though he was sneaking around in case his mother caught him.
The washed ivory carpeting in the hallway and on the stairs concealed his footsteps even more, and he resisted the urge to run up the stairs like he always did. When he stepped onto the landing, he turned the corner and saw his bedroom door open, just the way he left it. A few more steps and he was home free. Just as he was about to enter his room, his mother popped out, to his chagrin, with an armful of his dirty laundry,
“I didn’t hear you come in. How come you’re home so soon?” she asked.
There it was, the one question he NEVER wanted to answer. Should he lie or tell the truth? He was stuck. His eyes shifted from side to side as his mind crunched away like a Cray supercomputer, searching for an appropriate response, but before he could answer, he was confronted with another question,
“What’s wrong Kyle? Why do you look like that?”
The inquisition was in full throttle now. He knew there would be no way he would be able to lie fast or well enough to scoot around that second question. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked straight in her eyes and said,
“Mom, Adam got hurt riding his bike. They took him to the hospital.”
“What? What? He got hurt? What did you do?” she accused as she leaned towards him.
“Nothing! I didn’t do nothin’. We were riding our bikes on the sidewalk, and I heard a car skidding. When me and Vance stopped and turned around. Adam wasn’t there. He…”
“Whadaya mean he wasn’t there? Where was he?” she interrupted, instilling more fear into Kyle.
“We saw his bicycle stuck under an SUV that landed up on the curb in front of the cemetery. I think the SUV hit him. Me and Vance went back to look for him and Vance found him lying in the cemetery.”
“OH MY GOD! Is he okay? Tell me, is he okay?”
“I think so. It looked like his head hit a tombstone. Mom, there was so much blood. The police tried to help him, but couldn’t do much. When the paramedics came, they had to use those paddles. After his body jumped, they said he had a pulse, then they took him away in an ambulance.”
“How did his head hit a tombstone? How?”
Kyle shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know mom! I didn’t see it when it happened. We only heard the cars crashing. His head hit Brian Kinkaid’s tombstone. There was blood all over it.”
Once he mentioned Brian Kinkaid’s name, her whole demeanor shifted from accusatory to apprehension. He could tell she knew something about Brian Kinkaid, something vile, something painful. He was scared to ask her who Brian Kinkaid was, but his curiosity got the best of him.
“Mom, I know that name…Brian Kinkaid. Who is he?” he asked, standing directly in front of her.
“I…I don’t want to talk about it. Not now. Oh my God. Does Adam’s parents know what happened?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t go over there and tell them. I came right home. Who was Brian Kinkaid?”
She tried stepping around him, but he shifted in front of her. He wanted an answer, plus it felt nice to question her for a change.
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Are you scared to tell me?”
That fired up an immedia
te response, and she said, “No, I’m not scared. Brian Kinkaid was this town’s serial killer. He killed seven people for no reason. He was crazy, but they caught him and threw the book at him. He was found guilty and they executed him, okay? That’s who Brian Kinkaid is.”
It was then that Kyle realized he’d made a big mistake. Those details didn’t sit well with him. She gave him just enough information to look it up online, and that’s just what he was going to do. He couldn’t tell if his mother was angry or scared, but she said, “Move out of my way Kyle. I’ve got to call Adam’s mother and let her know her little boy is in the hospital. Do you know which hospital?”
“No, I don’t, mom.”
“Alright. You stay in your room in case she wants to talk to you. You hear me?” as she stormed off down the hallway.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, hanging his head as he entered his room.
Nothing went right. Getting busted like that hurt. If he could do it over again, he wouldn’t have come home and would have just stayed outside. He took a seat at his small desk and switched on his laptop. He typed Brian Kinkaid’s name into the browser, and a slew of web links appeared. He chose the first one, the one at Wikipedia.org. There it was, a picture of Brian Kinkaid looking scarier than his name suggests. His wide eyes, dark bushy eyebrows, strong jawbones, and prominent nose were the first features Kyle noticed, and they shook him to the core. His straight black hair was combed backwards and matted to his scalp. His mouth was drawn so tight it seemed like he was biting the inside of his lower lip. The picture was unflattering, to say the least. It was downright scary.
Along with the photo were facts about his life and death, disturbing facts which included his refusal to apply for appeals of his execution. Kyle’s curiosity led him to canvass Kinkaid’s entire biography. The article went into detail about each murder which really creeped him out. Images of Adam’s bloody head and the blood-stained tombstone kept easing their way back into his mind, adding to the dread he was already experiencing.
He was in another world. A dark, foreboding world, and he hated it. He wanted out, but he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t erase the image of Adam and the tombstone. Then a wail came from downstairs,
“Kyle, get down here now!” his mother yelled, causing him to jump.
He knew that tone and loathed it. What does she want now? He didn’t know which was worse, the Wikipedia article or his mom’s blast. He was halfway down the hallway when she bellowed once again, causing him to flinch again and pick up his pace. He entered the kitchen to find his mom on the phone with her hand covering the phone's mouthpiece.
“Tell Adam’s mom what happened. Tell her everything, you hear?”
“Okay,” he said. He took the phone from her and said, “Hello?”
He listened for a while then spilled his guts. He told her everything, even mentioning Vance’s expeditious departure. He glanced at his mom many times as he told the story, only to find her becoming more incensed, but he didn’t know why. It wasn’t his fault. He turned away from her, letting himself concentrate on what Adam’s mom was saying. He found out what hospital he was taken to and that he was in critical condition. However, there was one tidbit of information that really scared him. Adam’s mom stated that Adam had died right there in the cemetery, and it was the defibrillator that brought him back. Kyle felt Adam was close to death but never imagined he actually died. That was all she told him, and it was enough. The worry in her voice was apparent, yet she was both apologetic and thankful, not upset like his mother was. When she was done, he handed the phone back to his mom and stepped aside. The expression on his mother’s face softened as she spoke with Adam's mom, with many “you’re welcome” and “I’m so sorry” being passed about. She hung up the phone then looked at Kyle. He held his breath.
“Kyle, you did a good thing getting that officer to check on Adam. You’re a good friend. Come here.”
He walked over, and she pulled him in tightly. So tight, it almost hurt, but he appreciated it and returned the hug. When she released him, she asked,
“What happened with Vance? Did he leave Adam laying there?”
“No mom. He’s the one that found Adam. He got scared. I could see it in his eyes. He was really scared, and he started crying. Then he got on his bike and rode away. He didn’t mean to leave Adam, but I don’t think he could help it.”
“Poor boy. Sounds like he was traumatized. I hope he’ll be okay. He’s such a nice, quiet boy.”
“I hope so, too. I wanted check on him before I came home, but I changed my mind.”
“That’s alright. You can go over there whenever you get the chance.”
“Thanks mom,” he said with a small smile.
He turned and headed back upstairs to get on his computer and finish what he started.