Rhett McLaughlin - The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek

“I think the best thing for y’all to do is to head on out,” a deep voice said. They turned to see Leggett Shackelford in his black suit and mammoth mustache framing the same unwavering smile as Mary Hattaway’s. “I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting, but this place is full of grieving folks, and I believe you’ve already made enough of a scene today,” the big man said, locking eyes with Rex before turning to Janine.

“Hi, I’m Leggett Shackelford,” he said, extending a large paw for Janine to shake, “and this is my funeral home.” She tried not to noticeably freak out when she saw a raised scar along his palm.

“So nice to meet you,” she said, with zero warmth in her voice as she shook his hand.

“I’d love to say the same, but I’ve heard about the unfortunate movie you’re makin’. Big Gary told me he’s still missing three stones. Such a shame.” He spoke with an unnatural congeniality, that sappiness the people of Bleak Creek so often adopted when ripping you a new one. “And now, to show up at this young woman’s funeral, after all you’ve done to upset people here? Seems pretty impolite, if you ask me.”

“Well, nobody’s asking you,” Janine said, unwilling to play his game of fake friendliness. “Though I could, if you’d be down to be interviewed for my documentary.”

Leggett held his grin in silence, surprised that a young woman would talk to him that way.

“Okay, ma’am, I think we’re done here,” he finally said. “Now, if y’all could make your way home I’d appreciate it.”

“Gladly,” Janine said, giving a quick nod to Donna, Leif, and Rex before making a beeline for the exit, hoping they would follow.

Once she was outside, she saw that Donna and Rex had followed, but Leif had reconnected with his mom. Rex’s parents were walking out the door, so she tried to speak fast.

“You need to take us to that spring.”

18

AS REX AND Leif led Janine and Donna through the darkness—Janine with a camera bag slung over her shoulder and Donna holding a tripod duct-taped to a long aluminum pole—both boys were silent. This was partly because they were once again sneaking onto the Whitewood School property, but mostly because, other than a perfunctory phone call about logistics, they hadn’t spoken since the funeral.

Rex still felt betrayed by Leif for keeping his crush to himself all summer, while Leif was still fuming at Rex, not only for upstaging his confession, but for putting their lives in danger by publicly accusing Whitewood of being a murderer. Leif didn’t even want to come back to the spring, but as was the case with most everything that had happened in the past couple weeks, he was doing it for Alicia.

As they reached the tobacco barn, a familiar hoot came from the trees.

Rex had taken a solo trip to the Tree earlier that day, letting Ben know that Janine wanted to film the spring for her documentary about the school, that her cousin was a Whitewood alumna who had nearly drowned there. “I love this idea,” Ben had said while munching on the MoonPie Rex brought him. “But I’ll sit this one out—no amount of camo will protect me if I’m that close to the school. Let me know when you’re going, though. I’ll stay in a tree. Be your watchman.”

Rex now returned Ben’s all-clear hoot with a hoot of his own, which sounded less like an owl and more like a sick horse. “All right, we’re good,” he said, finding the cut part of the fence and holding it open. “Once we’re all through, we’ll find the two-trunked tree from before and regroup there.” He gestured toward Janine and Donna. “Ladies first.”

“Why do you get to decide who goes first?” Leif whispered, simmering with resentment at yet another display of Rex trying to take charge.

“Wow, okay. I was just being nice,” Rex said.

“No, you were doing what you always do. Trying to be in the driver’s seat. Just like the funeral. I was having, like, a nice moment up there, talking about Alicia, and you couldn’t deal with it, so you had to make it about you!”

“That’s not what I was doing!”

“Oh yeah, right. And here you go doing it again. Ladies first, my ass. What if I think the gentlemen should go first? Huh? What about that?”

“Dude, you’re not making any sense.”

“ You’re not making any sense!” Leif shouted in frustration, realizing he might not be making any sense.

“Guys!” Janine whisper-shouted, a finger to her lips. “We really don’t care who goes first. Either go or stop blocking the way.”

Rex and Leif looked surprised, as if they’d forgotten they weren’t alone.

“Oh, sorry,” Rex said, sure that Janine was second-guessing going on a mission—after midnight, on a Thursday—led by two kids she hardly knew. “We were just…working some stuff out.”

“That’s great news,” Janine said, “but maybe you should do it some other time when we’re not about to investigate a magic murder spring.”

“Good point,” Leif said, stepping aside. “Ladies first.”

They all passed through the fence, then marched in silence up the hill into the woods. Rex scanned the forest for the two-trunked tree. It was notably darker tonight, an overcast sky obscuring the moon, and he couldn’t spot it. As they continued walking toward the spring, Rex noticed that they were all tiptoeing like the four members of Mystery, Inc., from Scooby-Doo . Maybe Leif should have brought Tucker along to help us get to the bottom of this, he thought, as he looked left and realized they’d missed the double tree by a good fifty feet.

“Shoot,” he said. “Um, follow me.” He motioned to Janine and Donna and caught a sour look on Leif’s face. “I mean, follow us. ”

Once they arrived at the tree, Rex grabbed his goggles out of his pocket and put them around his neck. “So, there it is,” he said, pointing through the sparse woods to the spring, shivering as he realized he’d be in it in a matter of moments.

“Yup, okay,” Janine said, pulling out her camcorder, which she had thoroughly covered with clear plastic wrap, every part of the camera sealed, including the tripod mount itself. It was a camera waterproofing technique she’d employed while shooting one of Dennis’s crappy short films called The Man Who Met a Mermaid .

“Cool,” Rex said. “So that’s gonna work?”

“It should. I’m not interested in ruining my camera.” Janine grabbed the homemade extended tripod contraption from Donna and carefully fastened the camcorder to it. “Okay, all set.”

Rex nodded, and the troop began slowly descending the hill toward the spring. When they neared the edge of the tree line, Leif stopped.

He pointed across the spring, beyond the grassy expanse on the opposite side, to the Whitewood School. On the near side of the school, next to a row of three little buildings, they could see a small, blackened concrete slab where a fourth building had stood.

“That’s…” Leif said, his voice cracking. “That’s where she…died.”

Rex placed a hand on his shoulder. “And that’s why we’re here. So no one else will.”

Leif nodded and wiped his face.

“I’m gonna go ahead and start filming,” Janine said. She pressed the record button through the plastic wrap, looked in the viewfinder to confirm she was rolling, then awkwardly raised the camera to her face, not an easy task given that the length of the aluminum pole taped to the tripod was nearly her height.

Janine pointed the camera toward the school. She guessed it was about a hundred yards away. Far enough to get the hell out of here if someone comes outside, she thought. A single porch light shone next to the back door.