Bobby McFarland stormed out the back door, the hinges squealing, the screen’s frame slamming shut, bouncing open, and slamming shut again. “Bobby McFarland, don’t you slam that door,” his mother called.
“Yeah-yeah-yeah,” Bobby grumbled.
“Bobby McFarland, where are you going? It’s getting dark,” his mother called with the edge of worry in her voice. The same edge of worry she always had when Bobby headed out the back door after dinner.
“To have a smoke,” Bobby said. He said this loud enough so his mother knew he answered, but quiet enough so she didn’t know what the answer was.
“What was that?”
“I’ll be back later,” he called over his shoulder, digging a pack of Marlboros out of his pocket and beating it on his palm. He didn’t really blame his mother for the worry in her voice. How many kids was it now? Seven since his mother was a little girl growing up here on Mystic Island. Three kids missing in Bobby’s thirteen years of life. And throughout all that time, countless rumors had gathered about the disappearances. Rumors continuing to gather like moths on shit. Or was it flies on shit? Moths to a flame? Bobby couldn’t remember the saying, and what’s more, he didn’t care about the saying. Nor did he care about the rumors. Kids have been vanishing in the woods on Mystic Island since Colonial times—maybe even before. Why? Because kids are dumb. But Bobby wasn’t dumb enough to get lost in any woods. Especially woods on an island. Just walk in any direction and you’re eventually gonna hit civilization… or water. And don’t bring up the whole “no remains were ever found” crap either. “There’s this little thing called the Circle of Life,” Bobby would say. “Things eat dead things lying on the ground, end of story.”
Ginger, the mutt from next door, came running up to Bobby. The dog always tagged along when he went for his smoke. And, as usual, when the dog trotted up to him, tail wagging, Bobby kicked the thing aside, snarling, “Get lost, you dumb mutt.” And, as usual, Ginger looked up at Bobby as if asking:Why me? But even with this nightly routine of boy kicking dog and dog looking momentarily distraught, the dog continued to follow Bobby into the woods, its tail wagging as if expecting something new and exciting to happen.
To Be Continued…
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