Ike Hamill - The Vivisectionist

“What did they look like?” asked the sheriff.

“They were about six feet I guess,” said Ben. “One was skinny and smoking all the time. He had long side-burns and had a handgun tucked into his belt in back. The other one had long hair and carried a brown paper bag around.”

The sheriff wrote in his notebook and then asked “What day was this?”

Ben looked up and away, and said “Uh, the day after fireworks, so the fifth I guess.”

“Okay,” said the sheriff. “And where were you?”

“The pits, or quarry,” said Ben.

“And Stephen and Jack were?”

“Behind me somewhere. I got ahead.”

“And where did the older boys go?”

“I don’t know,” said Ben. “They were leaving when I saw them, so I just hid behind a tree.”

“And then you found the shells?” asked the sheriff.

“Well, yeah, I mean Stephen and Jack actually found them,” replied Ben.

“And you told them about the older boys?”

“Yeah, I mentioned it,” said Ben.

“And none of you thought to mention this last time I was here?”

“We didn’t want to get into any more trouble, sir,” said Stephen. “We didn’t really see anything important.”

Jack’s dad broke in — “It’s not up to you to decide what’s important. You three need to keep that in mind. What you were in trouble for was hiding something that would have been important for you parents to know.”

“I know dad,” said Jack, “I’m really sorry. We were really scared.”

“Okay,” said the sheriff, standing up. “I’ve got what I need. I suggest you boys be careful.”

Jack’s dad showed the sheriff out and they discussed the situation on the porch for a few minutes.

“Why did you do that?” Jack whispered to Ben.

“Shhh, he’s coming back,” said Ben.

Jack’s dad came back into the living room and sat down in his big chair.

“Anything else I should know?” asked Jack’s dad.

“I’m trying very hard to not overreact here, boys,” he continued. “You just have to understand that this is a difficult time for a parent. You’re trying to be independent and make your own way, but there are a lot of things in the world that can hurt you, and you’re not equipped to recognize them all yet. Most kids your age are having a very structured summer of activities, but you’ve asked to entertain yourselves and all your parents agreed that it was okay.”

“Thank you, Dad,” said Jack.

“Yeah, thanks Mr. Randolph,” said Stephen.

“Okay,” he continued, “but the burden on us is to somehow make sure you’re safe, without imposing so many rules that you’re hamstrung in what you can do.”

Jack’s dad took a deep breath. “I think you’ve done okay so far this summer, and learned that you need to maintain boundaries. So, you’re not in any trouble over this, but remember — we’re here to help you. No secrets.”

“Okay — thanks,” said Jack.

“Stephen,” Jack’s dad said, “call your mom.”

“Okay,” said Stephen.

Jack and Ben waited in Jack’s room for Stephen to get off the phone. He walked in with a big smile and closed the door behind him.

“End of the month!” said Stephen.

“Nice!” said Jack.

“What about swimming class?” asked Ben.

“She moved it,” he said. “There’s a new class that starts on August first, so I’m going to take that.”

“So are we going to confirm your theories about the letter today?” Ben asked Jack.

“I guess,” Jack said. “My dad said we weren’t going to be punished or anything. You almost ruined it with that confession — what was that about?”

“I had to do something,” said Ben. “I was totally blowing it ‘cuz I was so nervous. I knew the sheriff knew I knew something.”

“All in all, it was a pretty good lie,” said Stephen.

“What?” exclaimed Jack. “It was totally lame.”

“No, seriously,” started Stephen, “it completely explained why we were clearly covering something up. I think it worked great. Did you see the way the sheriff just dismissed everything after that?”

Jack thought about it. “I guess. You think he really bought it?”

“Oh yeah,” said Stephen. “Good job, Ben.”

“Do you think my dad is right — we should be telling him everything?” asked Jack.

“That’s retarded,” said Stephen. “He’d lose his mind!”

“Yeah,” continued Jack, “but what if he’s right? What if that place is really dangerous and we’re being stupid?”

“We’re not going to do anything dangerous,” said Ben. “We’ve already talked about that. We’ll be completely careful.”

“Yeah,” said Stephen.

“Okay,” Jack acquiesced.

“Let’s get going,” said Ben.

“Got it,” said Stephen. He had propped a piece of two-by-four in the hatch in the side of the building. The bottom of the board rested on the sill and the top was wedged against the sliding concrete door they suspected blocked the hatch when it was closed. Ben was already waiting down in the room they now called the “drawing room,” named for the anatomical drawing on the far wall.

Jack held the step-ladder for Stephen as he swung over the ledge and stared down rope-ladder to bottom of the passage. Next, Jack headed up the ladder.

“Okay,” said Jack, “lights on. I’m turning off the switch.”

When they first arrived and opened the hatch they had found the switch on. After some debate they believed that they had accidentally left it on. It had made them quite nervous to think they were not the only ones using this doorway, but after reassuring each other, they believed they had done it themselves.

Jack joined his friends in the “drawing room” as they looked around with their flashlights.

“Does the letter say anything about this room?” asked Ben.

Jack dug around in his backpack and produced the letter. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to start at the bottom. This room is definitely at the bottom. Is there a heart on that drawing?” Jack pointed at the drawing on the wall with his light. “If there is, it may be his deepest vulnerability.”

Stephen was closest to the drawing on the wall. He walked over and inspected the drawing. From top to bottom, he held his light close to the wall and examined the artwork. “There’s a hole in his heart,” he said.

“What?” asked Ben as he joined Stephen at the drawing. “Incredible.”

“Here — look,” said Stephen.

When Jack caught up with his friends the were looking at a quarter-inch hole in the wall. Just below the surface of the painted drywall, they could see a glass lens filled the hole.

“Looks like a peep-hole,” said Stephen. “Like in an apartment door.”

Stephen pressed his face to the wall and looked into the drawing of a heart.

“No way,” he exhaled.

“What? Let someone else see.” Ben pushed Stephen aside and looked into the hole.

“There’s a room in there, with three doors at the end,” Stephen told Jack. “The one on the right has light behind it.”

“How can you tell — about the light?” Jack asked.

“You can see it coming out from underneath,” Ben answered. “It’s the only light, but you can see the whole room.”

Ben backed up and let Jack have a look. The room through the peephole appeared narrow, with just enough space on the far wall for the three doors. Jack saw black walls and ceiling, and a floor covered in a grid of alternating black and white tiles.

When he pulled his eye away from the hole, Jack was confused — “I think it’s small — like a dollhouse or something.”