Wrong Place, Wrong Time
We were supposed
to just be out hiking. I was never the hiking type, but I guess I was never
really the dating type either. I made an exception this time, only for Lindsey.
It took me a while to muster up the courage to ask her out, for I feared if she
rejected me it could tarnish our then budding friendship. But alas, asking her
out is all she ever wanted from me from the beginning. It was supposed to be a
beautiful day, but, just like everything else in my life, something had to get
in the way, change the course of action. Only that day, the interference was a
little larger than usual.
When
she suggested we go picnic in the Everglades, I was skeptical to say the least.
I’m a city kid at heart, always will be, and vast areas of open spaces always remind
me of the seemingly endless possibilities the world has to offer that I seem to
be missing out on. That said, I actually liked Lindsey at that point and could
see myself having a consistently good time with her, so I went with what she
wanted. The first rule of being a good person is accepting what others,
specifically those you enjoy having around, have to offer, no questions asked.
It’s not like I know any better than them anyway.
Choosing
a Sunday was my first mistake. I hadn’t realized how much work I was going to
have due the following Monday, but backing out could mean I missed out on my
only opportunity to find someone I could actually share myself with. So, I made another sacrifice and sat in
traffic for a good hour when I could have and should have been writing a
five-page paper on what I would most like to change about myself. I knew it
would be tough to condense everything I wanted to say into five pages, but
perhaps I could pinpoint some things over the course of the day. Perhaps Lindsey
could help me sort out some issues.
When
we finally got setup and started to eat, the sun—which had been shining all too
brightly, causing me to sweat uncontrollably and most definitely conveying a
false sense of child-like nervousness to Lindsey—promptly crept behind what
seemed like a Hadrian’s wall of dark and ominous clouds and we could tell our
day was going to be cut short. How short was a controversial topic of conversation.
“I
don’t like the look of this,” I remember her saying as her casual, friendly
tone turned into an immediate “I think this was a big mistake, get me out of
here as soon as possible before I do something I regret” one. “Come on, Linds,
let’s wait it out, it can’t be that bad.” Of course I knew I was talking crazy,
but the idea of driving an hour just to walk around finding a good spot for
twenty minutes just to drive right back home seemed much worse than tolerating
a little rain. Not to Lindsey however. “You don’t understand, I need to go back
to the car and I need to go now. I’m wearing a white t-shirt for God’s sake.”
“And? You look
good in that shirt…”
“Yea well I won’t
if it starts to rain. And while I appreciate your company, I would not appreciate
you seeing through my shirt.” A valid argument I suppose, and so I let what
could have been the girl of my dreams take my keys and rush back to the car
while I folded up everything we had set up at most ten minutes earlier. I
trusted she would not steal my car.
Too bad I couldn’t
trust myself to find the correct path back to said car. After just ten minutes,
when it finally started to rain, I knew I was in trouble. I was certainly not a
professional tracker, but I had enough common sense to understand the concept
of recognizing and following footsteps. However, after the rain started coming
down in heavy doses, any confidence I may have had pertaining to figuring my
way around this seemingly limitless jungle dwindled instantly. When I nearly slipped
and fell on a pile of wet pebbles, two snakes slithered directly by my feet. I
always had a deep fascination for snakes, or rather what they’re capable of
despite their size and shape. So, I decided it would be harmless to take a
quick detour and observe how they each dealt with the inclement weather
situation. It may have been longer, but it seemed like no more than five minutes
passed when the snakes led me to my discovery.
I
had seen a dead body before, just once. When I was fifteen years old playing
travel baseball, I played catcher for one of the best young pitchers in the
state. He had an arm like a cannon but his attitude was in serious need of
servicing. However, all of that became moot, when, after striking out the last
batter of a particularly important and tense game, I ran over to the mound to
congratulate him and he immediately collapsed into my arms. Heart attack, on
the spot. Nobody could do anything but stand in shock until the ambulance came
and pronounced him dead, right there on the field. That time I didn’t know he
was dead at first, but this time, I knew right away.
The
snakes were seeping their way through his torn and bloodied clothes, joining a
few others that had already been building themselves a nice comfort zone with
the remnants of life that remained. I remembered how the ill-fated pitcher’s
mother, although in a state of pure shock, seemed to be able to worry about
everyone leaving her son’s body alone. She must have wanted to remember him as
he was, not as he will forever be. Since then, it had always struck me that a
dead body should be respected, not feared. However this one, out in the harsh
realities of the Everglades, could do nothing but instill fear in whomever came
upon it. This man did not deserve what he got; yet he also did not need to be
seen in such bad shape: His neck clearly broken, his limbs twisted and turned
like whomever or whatever killed him had stuck him through a pretzel maker and then
untwisted him then rinsed and repeated until they were satisfied with the half
human figure they had just contorted.
It didn’t even
cross my mind at the time that I hardly even tensed up when I found what I did.
Sure, I definitely felt a little bit of discomfort, but thinking back on it, it
helped me realize I feared myself more than anything else. Once I knew I had to
move the body, and I had to do it by myself, I could only worry for a moment about
Lindsey and what she was thinking. But bigger matters were at hand, bigger
matters were always at hand; I had something actually important to do.
Thank God I had
recently found that lifting weights was a good way to pass the time and ignore
the more than occasional banality of dorm life, because a dead body is just as
hard to carry as it looks. I had certainly given my fair share of piggyback
rides, but it had been years, and in those situations, I always received some
sort of help from the lucky girl who was on my back. With a dead body, the
phrase “dead weight” has never been more applicable, and going uphill at all
seemed nearly impossible. Seeing as how I did not know my way around the area I
was unsure of where to begin, so I just let my feet do all the talking as they
led me to wherever this body was forever fated to rest.
After about twenty
minutes I realized my inexcusable folly. Seeing the body must have warped my
sense of the real world, because suddenly I became conscious of the fact that
someone could see me, or worse, someone could have been watching me this whole
time. Without context, I can’t imagine how suspicious I looked flinging a
visibly deceased body over my shoulder and wandering around a barren swampland
with a cooler on my other arm. Even worse, traces of my presence were now
everywhere, most importantly all over the victim. If time and rain had washed
away any real evidence, I would have provided authorities with myself, an
unassuming and considerably dim-witted kid who made an impulsive decision and
ruined his life because of it. I knew what I had to do. By now, Lindsey had
been waiting a good forty minutes I’m sure, and while I felt bad, I felt
stronger about my livelihood being on the line.
It was time to
dump the body. As fate would have it, the rain subsided for a few moments and
silence consumed the area. The lack of wind, which was typically a problem due
to the excessive humidity, allowed me to listen for any flowing bodies of water
that might be nearby. Being from a big city allows your ears to become
accustomed to breaking down lots of noises and focusing in on one, and although
it’s a skill I had never fully embraced or understood, it sure came in handy
this day. I was able to ignore the occasional rustling of the leaves or the
loudest chirps of the any bird and quickly found myself at the edge of a river
with neither a person nor animal in sight. I finally felt alone. I believed I
was indestructible for a moment. Untouchable, impervious to judgment. Dropping
the body into the muddy waters and watching it float for a few moments before
sinking into the planet felt like the greatest weight being lifted from not
only my shoulders but also my heart and soul. I had this moment all to myself
and I always would. I was happy Lindsey was not here to share it with me. She
would have never valued how profound it was, never understand. I might try to
explain it to her, have her try to comprehend the importance of this moment to
me, but I knew it was no use. And for once, I did not care.
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