David Halliday - The Hole

“I ain’t taking anything off,” Adelle insisted. She took a puff of the joint and handed it to Cathy.

“Your mother told you she used to play strip poker?” Frank asked.

“They were kids too,” Cathy suggested.

“I know, but…God, I’d gag thinking about my old lady stripping.”

“We should have brought some cards,” Wiggy added.

“They were getting pretty drunk,” Terry said. “Laughing, drinking, and playing their hands. They made a fire so it was easy to read their cards. There were three girls and two guys and one of the girls lost her bra. When she hesitated to take it off two of the boys held her down while the other two girls took off the girl’s bra and tossed it into the darkness. They all thought this was great fun except for the girl who was now almost naked. She started to cry. ‘I don’t want to play this game anymore,’ the girl whined. She got up to find her clothes and collapsed.

She was too drunk. They all laughed except for the topless girl. She continued to cry, curled up in a ball to hide her nakedness. ‘I always lose,’ she complained. ‘Somebody better get her clothes before she freaks out,’ one of the boys said. He tried to get up but he too was too drunk to attempt a search. One of the other two girls rose.”

“Your mom?” Wiggy asked, his eyes bulging with a thirst for details.

“No,” Terry said. “Anyway, the girl, I think her name was June, staggered into the darkness to find the clothes the kids had tossed. Some time passed. June’s been gone a long time, one of the boys noticed. Just then they heard June scream.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore,” Cathy cried, putting her hands over her ears. “I hate these stories. You promised you wouldn’t tell any more of your stories while I was stoned. I get too freaked out.”

“Sobered by the sudden scream,” Terry continued, ignoring Cathy’s pleas, “all four rushed into the darkness. They heard another scream like June was begging someone to let her go. They couldn’t quite make out what she was crying. And then…”

“Yes?” Frank asked.

“No!” Cathy insisted and crawled over to Adelle, burrowing into her side for protection. Don’t say it! Don’t!

“There was nothing.” Terry smiled and looked around.

“Nothing?” Wiggy asked, his mouth dropping.

“Silence,” Terry added.

“Holy shit!” Frank gasped, dropping the bottle of gin to the ground and then immediately grabbing it before what was left of the gin spilled into the grass.

For several minutes Terry did not speak. Instead he soaked up the delicious silence around him. And then when the time was ripe, he began to speak again, softly, almost inaudibly.

“They waited a long time, huddled together. When it was clear that June was not going to return, they gathered all their clothes and dressed.

How were they going to tell their parents that they’d gotten drunk, played strip poker, than lost one of their friends? Who was going to believe them? The police would think that they’d done something to June, that some terrible accident had befallen their friend and that the rest of the friends were trying to cover it up. They made an oath among themselves never to tell the truth, the complete truth.” Cathy began to weep. “You know I hate these stories, Terry. You know I get nightmares…”

“Did they ever find the chick?” Wiggy asked.

Terry shook his head.

“Holy shit!” Frank gasped, raised the bottle of gin to his mouth and forgot to drink before he placed it back at his feet.

“So, like, they never found who grabbed the girl?” Wiggy added.

“Nope!” Terry responded. “And for all we know whoever dragged the girl off could still be out there in the darkness tonight.” 44

“Jesus!” Wiggy said, his head swiveling as he searched the darkness.

Adelle started to laugh. Cathy wiped the tears from her eyes and glared at her friend.

“He made it up,” Adelle said to her friends.

Cathy turned from Adelle to Terry. Terry looked at her for a moment then started to laugh. Except for Cathy, they all began to laugh.

“I knew you were putting us on,” Wiggy said with a chuckle.

Everyone looked at him skeptically.

“Well, I did,” he added.

The Spy

With an elbow on the bar and her head leaning on her hand, a cigarette stuck between her fingers and smoke twisting and turning through the curls of her hair, Mary watched Jack polishing the bar. There was something safe and secure about a man working.

“You worry too much about your kid, Mary,” Jack said.

“I’m a mother,” she sighed. “Maybe not a good one, but a mother nevertheless.”

Jack slipped the towel over his shoulder and leaned on the bar as if he were getting ready to do pushups.

“You’re doing your best.” He turned and wrote something down on a pad. “They don’t give you a manual when these kids are handed to you.”

“You got that right, Jack.” Mary looked affectionately at the bartender.

“You got kids, Jack?”

Jack held up two fingers.

“And two grandchildren,” he added as he turned around. “Greatest kick in the world, having grandchildren. You get all the good stuff and when they get tired and cranky, you hand them back to Mom.”

“I didn’t know you had grandchildren.” Mary rubbed her cigarette hand on her forehead. She drew lightly on her cigarette. “I’m looking forward to that. Right now I’ve just got the boy. It’s the attitude that gets to you. How do they know everything? When did they suddenly get so angry? Sometimes I’m afraid I might be living with a serial killer. He says I pry. I’d like to know a few fundamental things, like whether he’s healthy. God, he hasn’t been to the dentist in two years. And how’s he doing in school. I haven’t seen a report card since grade nine. I ask a question and Terry makes me feel as if I’m acting like J. Edgar Hoover.

Terry tells me nothing. I can only guess what he’s up to. And I’m so tired. Do you ever get plain tired of everything, Jack?” Jack nodded. “Oh ya. My dogs get so fatigued they fall asleep on me while I’m standing still.”

Grinding her cigarette out in an ashtray, Mary sipped her Bloody Caesar. She played with the stock of celery that stuck out of the glass and then bit off a piece.

“Sometimes, Jack, I just want to have a little fun. You know what I mean? Let my hair down and really let it all hang out. Like when I was a kid. God, I’m getting too old too fast.”

“You’re still a young woman.” Jack looked at Mary and smiled. She’s getting old fast.

“Almost forty,” Mary smiled sadly.

“That’s not old.” Jack smiled, patting Mary on the hand. “You’re just a baby, and an attractive one, I might add. Why, if I wasn’t already hitched to a wagon, I might take a little gander your way.” Mary laughed and slapped Jack affectionately on the hand.

“If you weren’t married, I might rope you in myself.” Mary laughed again. She stopped. “I lied. I’m forty-one.”

“Well, there you go.” Jack laughed. “You look ten years younger.”

“Oh, you know how to keep your regulars happy.” Mary smiled as she took her package of cigarettes out of her purse. Jack reached for a lighter under the bar and lit her up.

“How’s it going with your new fellow?” Jack asked.

“Hank?” Mary drew deeply on the cigarette, her eyes closed.

“The tall long drink of water I saw you in here with yesterday,” Jack said.

Mary sighed. “Did you see the size of his hands? Like sides of beef hanging on the ends of his arms. Things are up and down.” Jack laughed.

Mary smiled. “You have a filthy mind. I love it.” Mary drew on her cigarette and released a sigh inside a cloud of smoke.