There are places in the world that seem untouched. It’s hard to think of but if you’re from my neck of the woods, you can see remnants of it after a short drive. I’m originally from a moderately sized city or town (I can never tell which is the correct term) in the Northeastern realm of Arkansas. Natives know the flatlands all too well and how the emptiness of the wet air surrounds any form of civilization there. Think of the South: the people, the scenery, the dead, and the living. The rolling hills and the expansive farmlands that surround the small patches of civilization. The inescapable history of these dirty lands we all try to hide from. It’s a place full of untold stories and areas all their own. They are not bound to the reality of the bigger world around them. They are their own universe and once you step into it you get sucked into its isolation where you feel that you are in control, lost, and free all at once. One could do whatever they wanted out there and no one would know.
I almost killed a man in one of those places. He was my friend at the time. I betrayed him and something in myself. It’s complicated. This is my attempt to understand why I did what I did or at least my attempt at confession and repentance. I guess we’ll have to see how that goes. I’d known him for a good portion of my life. He was about my age at the time, we were in our late teens between 16 and 17 years old. This memory is a moment in time I can never fully forget. One could say it haunts me but that’s too ominous for my taste. I think it just resonates in my memory because of the seriousness of what happened and what happened in my mind. I’ve grappled with it for quite some time and my mind alone doesn’t seem strong enough to wrestle it down into the ‘past.’ I just hope one day I can move on and let the emptiness of the physical world around me take control of the portions of my mind I need it to seep into.
It happened one night in the beginning of August, the last month before school started and the bubble of high school life took over again. It was my senior year and I had some prospects for my future education and career but nothing concrete. During those years of my life, I had two people that I spent the most time with and knew very well. I was the outsider to their group at first and had only become close to them around freshman year of high school when I began playing football with them. Although I wasn’t exactly like them, I did enjoy being around them. We had a routine during those summer months, thinking of something to do, doing that, and then trying to find something else to do or going back to someone’s house to do basically nothing until tomorrow came. It was a fun cycle for those with nothing better to do and one of the many things to do in our part of the world was to frog gig. For the uneducated, frog gigging is the act of hunting frogs usually at night with a powerful flashlight and a long stick with an assortment of prongs on the end of it. A redneck trident some might call it. This was very much an activity that was symbolic of the typical Southern boy. It was dirty hunting and was mainly a way to pass the free time that took up so much of our life back then.
We had a usual spot and it was on the outskirts of town that most of the guys our age used as well. It was farmland that was home to rice fields which meant it was usually wet with regular flooding of the fields and the humid delta air helping keep it that way. So, these plots of flatland were weaved together with dirt roads and ditches accompanying them. Those ditches were the perfect breeding ground for the biggest and best frogs nearby. Now, looking back, going to these places and doing this seems a tad illegal as none of us had a license to hunt or fish out there but we didn’t care. I mean, what teenager cares about the pesky little laws like that? The best time to go was at night when all the frogs would be out, and you could use your flashlight to shine on their eyes. The light would reflect back off their unsuspecting irises and we’d have our targets. And that was the game of it, drive up and down these dirt roads by the ditches, shine a light to find little eyes, and then jump out and stab them quickly. That was our barbarous pastime. We never did anything with the frogs either. We would just let them die and usually threw them in the back of someone’s truck to mess with whomever we decided was the victim that night. It’s a little disturbing thinking about it but it’s what us guys did.
Once we decided on frog gigging that night, we all met at the Dollar General not too far from our access to these dirt roads. It was just us three for the night; George, Ryan (George’s old friend that became mine as well), and I. I wasn’t sure what exactly they had been up to that day but since they lived in the same upper-middle-class suburb, I’m sure they were doing something together that wasn’t enough to warrant me coming across town. I lived in a nice neighborhood and house at the time but not one that had the status of the two others in town. They lived in the one everyone thought they were rich for staying in but weren’t the real rich people of the town. So, around 8:30 pm we met. George pulled up in his red Dodge truck that was only a couple years old with Ryan in the passenger seat. That’s how I knew they were together previously and hadn’t invited me. That was normal and I was fine with it, saved me gas money, and kept my independent side intact. That was what I told myself. I switched my older Toyota Tundra off and hopped out to meet them.
“Hello hello,” I said walking over to them. I put on some old boots made for hunting in the mud but still wore shorts because of the sticky air of Arkansas.
“Fancy seeing you here stranger,” George said in his funny way that was weirdly flirtatious but humorous at the same time. I opened his back door and climbed in.
“Y’all ready to kill some frogs?”
“You betcha. Did you bring your light?”
“Yeah, and I got my gig. Did y’all ever go to Academy to see if they had more?”
“They didn’t,” Ryan piped up. He was always a little quiet at times but could also be a real talker. He seemed to be the smartest between the two and I appreciated that. It felt like a lot of times I was the only one mature enough to handle anything.
It was already dark enough, so we headed straight to the hunting ground. The Dollar General was on the side of a small highway that would take us to where we needed to go about two minutes away. Like I said, it wasn’t hard to escape civilization in our town. Once we passed the outskirts of town, our turn-off came and we pulled onto the dirt road that would lead us into the farmland. It was already close to pitch black out there as it usually was late at night. There weren’t any sources of light except for the moon and stars and some lights from the town behind us. After a couple minutes more, we made it to the killing floor. We were out in a world that was a butcher shop all our own. We were in a noir country landscape that could breed mystery and tear down the reality that held us in place. It was a feeling unlike any other.
We reached our starting point and Ryan and I jumped out of the truck and into the back. I took point with the flashlight and he held the gig waiting to strike while George continued driving slowly.
“Hey! There’s one! George stop,” I said slapping the roof of the truck and Ryan jumped out following my light.
“Where do you see ‘em,” he asked bent over, looking with the gig in both hands.
“Right there next to that small bush.” I could see its little eyes looking right into the light, unaware of what was about to happen.
“Ah, I see him.” Ryan stepped forward carefully, making sure not to scare it away and then he cut through the dark with the gig and stabbed the frog. It writhed under the prongs of the gig as they held it down on the dirt and gravel by the ditch.
“You gotta finish it off,” I said enthusiastically.
“One sec one sec,” Ryan said adjusting his position to stomp the little creature and put it out of its misery. He tried once and missed, smashing the ground next to its little head. He tried again and this time connected to its head, but it still thrashed around panicking from the pain of its situation. I jumped out and decided to do it myself.
“Hold it there,” I said pointing to a clear spot on the ground. “Come here you son of a bitch.” I stamped my foot down heel first into its head and it stopped moving. A red splatter accented the ground and the bottom of my boot as Ryan pulled the gig out of it with my foot holding it still. We threw it in the truck and this time I held the gig and Ryan held the light.
“Get it movin’ George,” I said banging the top of the truck. We crept down the dilapidated road once more as I was on the lookout following Ryan’s light. You could hear the frogs everywhere. Their low humming produced a cacophony of nightly sounds that mixed with some cicadas and whatever other night creatures watched us from a distance. It wasn’t uncommon to find them lurking in the tall grass of these wet ditches and we would kill them too. It is surprising how willing young boys are to kill something. I speak from experience when I say you get a high from it. A blood rush that is scarily contagious and can seep into every ounce of your body if you let it. There’s a power dynamic behind it, and back in those days, power was everything to me. I had grown up outside of the common world in my town, managing to weasel my way into the norm through being good at football and somewhat funny at school. I became one of the normal people and gained my own power but still felt like an outsider. A chip on my shoulder, you might say. I guess it was all part of my angsty teen years.
“There’s one,” Ryan shouted pointing past a tall bush in the middle of the water-filled ditch.
“Alright, keep it there. I’ll get it,” I said hopping out of the truck.
“Wait. Be careful, I think there’s a snake right there.”
“Where?”
“Right there by it. Look you can see it moving!”
“Hold up let me see,” George chimed in from the driver seat. He climbed out and stood next to me looking where Ryan was pointing. “Well shit, there is one. He looks pretty big, too.”
“Get over here you little shit,” I said quietly walking up to the snake casually moving in the water. He was about as long as half my forearm but pretty thick. I didn’t know enough about snakes to know if it was really dangerous or not, but I also didn’t care. I figured my boots that went up to my knees would protect me from any would-be attack. I reached the edge of the ditch and the snake was about half a yard from me. This was just long enough for the gig to reach and do some damage if I hit it just right. So, being the dumb teenager, I was, I lunged the prongs right at the portion below the snake’s head. I whiffed it slightly and the little beast disappeared in the water for a split second and in the next second appeared in the tall grass right next to my off-balance front foot.
“Oh shit,” I shouted jumping up and stepping back as fast as I could. George did the same as he was only wearing his tennis shoes (He was never really prepared that well for anything). I watched the creature slither his way across the gravel towards me and I held the gig ready to strike. I let it get close and could see it had a large bulge almost halfway down its body. It must have just eaten something, and we were disturbing its meal. I took two more steps back and waited for my chance. It inched closer to me and right when it was about to reach my boot, I stabbed down hard on the middle of its body. This time I stuck it and it began flailing about trying to release itself. Ryan stood in the truck looking down with amazement in his eyes and George stood back afraid to go near the dying creature. I kept a good distance to make sure it couldn’t reach and bite me, waiting for it to stop moving.
“Fuck, that’s gross. That thing almost bit me. Did you see that Ryan,” George said looking for some reassurance.
“Dude that thing was coming for both of y’all. I hate when y’all go after the snakes. That thing could of bit you bro,” Ryan said looking at me.
“Oh, quit being a pussy. He’s just a little guy. Besides look at that bulge! I wish I had brought my knife to cut that open. Wonder what’s in there,” I said with adrenaline pumping through me. A little too harsh now I think about it but that’s how we were with each other, like many teenage guys.
“You are not throwing that in the back of my truck. I don’t want that thing near me.”
“Come on. Look it’s dead. He’s not going to do anything to you. Come stomp it you little pansy.”
“But my shoes dude.”
“Jesus Christ. If you don’t stomp it, I’m gonna throw it on you.”
“Do it George,” Ryan said chiming in.
“Fine,” he said getting closer to the motionless snake. I held it in place and pointed to its head as the target. I watched the snake twitch a little and knew it was somewhat still alive. A good head crushing would finish it completely. He stepped forward and raised his leg to smash his heel down on the creature. At that moment it twitched again, the front half of its body snapped up and latched onto his exposed leg. “Fuck,” he yelled dropping back with the snake still attached to his leg. The gig fell out of my grip and crashed on the gravel, flopping with the snake. George, in his panic, tripped onto his back.
“Fuck dude it hurts so bad,” he shouted reaching for the snake attached to his leg. It continued to twitch as Ryan jumped from the truck finally out of his shock. “Quit moving. Quit moving. We gotta pull it out,” Ryan said holding him still. “Get over here and help!” I admittedly was in shock. I didn’t think it would be able to still move like that. I thought it would just jump a little and scare him. Both of them freaked out immediately, I just stood there and watched. These two hadn’t experienced anything like this in their life before. They were handed everything. Their difficulties were easily solved, and consequences didn’t seem to matter to them. Was I bitter? Probably. But that’s how you can be when you’re a teenager. You can think you’re wise beyond your years and yet you still worry about petty things like who hung out with who the most. It’s embarrassing, to say the least.
Did I let that snake bite him? I really can’t say for sure. I like to think I wasn’t capable of cruelty like that but maybe I was. Like I said, violence and power are dangerous things that seep into the mind and body. At that moment I chose a side I wish I could forget but that’s not how life works. You can’t really move on. You have to face the facts every day. My life wasn’t hard. It wasn’t theirs but it wasn’t hard. I guess I wanted them to experience something real for once. No more of just the two of them in a world created by and for them. It was easy for them to escape trouble usually, out here that wouldn’t work. The only things that could see us were the stars and moon. No one knew George had just got bitten by a snake and I was standing there watching his pain, not sure if it was just excruciating or worse.
I remember nights of the awful pain of being alone. George and Ryan were always with one another and the people from school that lived near them. I couldn’t hold that against them, but I still felt alone. Back then if you didn’t have a girlfriend you were always with your friends and I never had a girlfriend back then. I didn’t even think I was wanted by any girl. Obviously, looking back, there were probably plenty that I just didn’t notice or pay attention to but that’s not the point. I remember one night especially when I had been home all day and had little correspondence with the guys. So, I played some video games and watched a movie or two trying to defeat the boredom. My parents were always home on the weekends but as a teenager, you never want to spend a lot of time with them. I sat in my basement of solitude with my distractions and enjoyed that kind of day for the most part. Around midnight I laid in bed on my phone looking through social media and seeing all the fun people my age were having on nights like this.
Snapchat was the gateway to this at the time and through the ‘stories’ people would post you would gain a window into their lives. Of course, now that I look back on it, it’s all just what they wanted people to see. No one’s life is perfect. I wish I would have learned that a lot sooner. On one of these many posts, I saw George and Ryan. They were yelling something at each other with loud music in the background and plenty of people surrounding them. It looked to be at George’s house with the fog of a party engulfing his living room. I guess they thought I wouldn’t come, or they just forgot to say anything to me. I never really turned down much except when it interfered with school. My phone screen replayed the video over and over again shining their images on my face in my black room. I hated them for it. I really did at the time. They had forgotten me a lot in those days and this was the final straw for me. At least that’s what I told myself. I never really would give them up. How could I? I had no one else. I sat in my moonlit room stewing in my sadness. Did I deserve that kind of life? What did I deserve? I questioned my self-worth a lot back then.
And then, in the moment of George’s great pain, I remembered my own from all those nights of silence. In the darkness of this nowhere land, I felt my revenge come to a head. I felt not only the fire of payback but the coldness of cruelty. My heart felt like it split in two with each half pushing my actions in one way or the other. The demons of pain inside me saw him cry for help on the gravel road and reveled in the fact he needed me now. He needed me. They needed me. At that realization, I looked at Ryan and I looked at George. This was my chance.
“Alright, you’re going to be ok,” I said snapping out of it and stepping down to help him. The snake had stopped twitching and went completely limp. “I think it’s finally dead, so we just need to pull it out, ok?”
“Is it a dangerous one,” he asked pleadingly.
“No, it’s fine. Just a nasty bite. We’ll pull it out and you’ll be fine. I got you,” I said like I had any idea about what this snake really was and its capabilities. I guess I was trying to comfort him in some form or fashion.
“Ok. Fuck it hurts dude.”
“I know. Ryan, you hold his leg, so it doesn’t move, and hold the light on the snakehead. I’m gonna pull it off,” I said continuing my act. “Bite your shirt or something.” Ryan grabbed his leg and George leaned back. He put the light on the snake’s head and a dark circle had formed on George’s leg around the bite area. A mixture of brown and purple made the skin resemble a molding grape.
“Ok, you ready?”
“Yes, do it dude.” I grabbed right under the snake’s head for its neck and squeezed. I pulled a little at first to see how deep it had sunk its teeth into him and with my first slight tug it didn’t budge. So, I grabbed harder and steadied my arm. I decided to rip it off like a band-aid and with one fast pull I did. George fell back with another ‘Fuck!’ and I threw the snake carcass away and looked at his leg. It had started to swell, and the remnants of the snake’s place on his leg were now a darker purple around the two black dots where the fangs were. George was still on his back holding his leg up as we all looked at the damage.
“It still hurts man. Why does it look like that? What did you do?!”
“What did I do? What do you mean?! I just pulled the damn thing from your leg!”
“But why does it look like that?! You said it wasn’t a bad one! You didn’t know?!”
“Yeah what the fuck? You said you knew,” Ryan chimed in backing up George.
“Well, I don’t know what gave you the impression I did. I mean it wasn’t a huge one.”
“Look at my fucking leg you dumbass! We gotta go to the hospital right now. I’m gonna throw up.” George leaned over and expelled what he ate for dinner next to him. He looked at me and his eyes were glazed over with what looked like fear and a lack of blood flow.
“We need to get you out of here,” I said throwing the gear into the back of his truck. Their words stuck with me like their actions but there were more important matters at hand. I was angry but I didn’t want to be blamed for this. I knew at that point I probably would be anyways, and I accepted it. There were consequences and I knew that. They didn’t deserve my hate-filled retaliation in a situation as extreme as this. My best hope was for them to write it off as a mistake that any of us would have made. Hopefully, that was the truth.
“Come on George I’ll help you into the truck,” Ryan said pulling him up. George tried to stand but his leg gave out on him and fell back onto one knee. I went over to help and George threw up again, but it was just bile at this point. “He’s really not ok man.”
“Come on I’ll help you get him in the truck,” I said as I grabbed one of his arms. Ryan grabbed the other and we lifted George onto our shoulders. At this point, it seemed George was fully out of it and maybe unconscious.
“Why’d you let that snake bite him,” Ryan said looking at me.
“It was an accident! I didn’t know it was still alive.”
“You say that, but I saw the look on your face. You knew that snake wasn’t fully dead. You still think you’re smarter than us, don’t you?” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He called me out point-blank. I had no response, to be honest. I did think that way and I tried to pretend that wasn’t true. The act was up.
“What do you mean,” I said trying to save face.
“It means that I know you think you’re smarter than us and better than us. It’s pretty obvious sometimes. That’s why you pull stupid shit like letting that snake bite him. You’ve got some weird complex about who we are and what we think about you.”
“Just shut up man. This isn’t the time for this,” I said as we reached the truck. I opened the rear door and we pushed George inside.
“I’m just saying. You need to work on that. It’s not cool.”
“I get it, alright? Back off.”
“Don’t get mad at me dude. You’re the one who let that snake bite him.” At this point, we were both standing next to the truck looking at each other. It was more than just a call out against me. It felt like it was something he had been meaning to say for a while. I can’t blame him for it. I understand what he was saying now. In my own world, I felt like I was different from them. Someone who knew what ‘real life’ was like but I was just a teenager like them. Angry at the world for no particular reason. Without them I was alone, and I knew that. I didn’t want to admit that to myself so, I thought I convinced myself it was because I was better and different, and they couldn’t accept that.
“You’re sitting here calling me out and accusing me of all this stuff and I’m not supposed to get mad,” I said as my ears warmed with frustration and embarrassment.
“That’s just the facts bro. You know you’re lucky this is the first time I’ve said something about it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you’re lucky we put up with your bullshit. You can really be an asshole. I’m tired of not saying anything. We’re gonna get to the hospital and then we’re done with your shit.” He gave me one last look of friendship and then let his eyes fade into a stranger. It was like I had become one of the many mosquitos that flew around our heads and bodies during the wet nights. I looked into the truck at George who was lying in his sweat as he was possibly dying. I imagined he felt the same way. Maybe that’s why they distanced themselves from me.
“Listen, man, I thought it was dead. I know I can be an asshole I can fix that. I’m sorr…”
“Would you just shut the fuck up already,” Ryan said. He was rightfully angry with me at the time. However, this was the final straw for me at the moment. I was angry too. These guys that I called friends seemed to have been putting on some kind of act with their true feelings being that I was just some annoying pest they kept around. My hands connected to his chest with a clap as I pushed him back.
“What the fuck dude,” he said as he tripped back. I grabbed his shirt collar and gave him an uppercut into his stomach. He fell over coughing and I kneed him in the face causing him to fall back on the gravel next to the ditch on the other side of the road. The world seemed darker now. It was probably about 11:00 pm at this time with no light coming from anywhere besides the natural light. The quiet of the night rang in my ears as I walked over to George and saw him holding his leg. He was still out of it but had seemed to somewhat regain his grasp on things. I thought about pulling him out and leaving him there but figured that’s what they expected of me at that point. I was some strange, cruel person that had come into their lives and imposed my selfish and hateful world onto them. I heard Ryan rollover on the gravel behind us and looked back at him. Some blood was now on his face, probably from his nose.
It felt as though I was back at square one. I was the outsider again. The one that no one really knew a lot about. They knew my name but not who I was. In school, I tried my best and got good grades but never really socialized until I met George and Ryan. They were the popular ones. The ones everyone knew and loved to be around. Somehow, I had weaseled my way into their lives and I enjoyed it to be honest. It was better than being a loner. Through them, I could have a life that gave me more than what I was giving it. It seemed genuine too. Maybe it wasn’t. I had glimpses into it that I chose to forget. There was another party at George’s house, my first real one. Alcohol, too many people in one house, and cars were strewn about the road outside his house.
Like I said, this was my first party and on top of that, I had never touched an ounce of alcohol besides a sip until that night. Safe to say, this was a recipe for a bad night and morning. I gave in to the pressure and with a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand, I began drinking. The liquid was warm down to my stomach and burned my throat. I coughed as it filled my insides with the sweet numbness of peace and lowered inhibitions. There were girls there and the bottle certainly helped me relax to the fact. George loved to be around girls. He loved to be around people period and Ryan just followed along. They told me about it earlier that day, so I made sure I looked my best and thought about what I was supposed to wear all day. I decided on just jeans and a long sleeve shirt that I liked but it was probably too hot to wear. At the party, I saw people I knew from school and others I didn’t recognize. I did notice the girl I had been eyeing since 8th grade. She had an athletic build and brunette hair that resembled a chocolate milkshake flowing down her head. She was beautiful in my eyes.
With another swig of whiskey, I approached her and began some meaningless conversation that I can’t even remember because of the alcohol fogging my mind. The last thing I do remember from that night is dancing to some rap song in front of everyone while they recorded me with their phones. Turns out the whiskey I had been “sipping” was about half empty at that point and I was feeling it. In other words, I had blacked out. I woke up on the floor that morning with a metal bowl next to me and a note that said, “If you need to throw up, use this.” I looked around and the haze of the morning let some light in, but it was still dim. I looked at my phone and it was around 8:00 am. My hammer inside my head began to pound its way through my temples and forehead and I closed my eyes. I willed myself onto the couch nearby and laid there in silence. The house that was once full of life felt empty now. I tried to sleep more but the pounding in my head kept that from happening, so I trudged my way into George’s room around the corner from the living room. I opened the door, and it was vacant. He must have gone off with some girl instead of staying the night here.
I had the urge to get home for some reason. My parents wouldn’t care that I spent the night at George’s house. They would care, however, if they had found out why I spent the night. I guess I felt if I made it home right then it would be ok. I stepped outside and the morning air forced me to face my situation. I was still wobbly and dizzy and probably somewhat drunk. I needed to get home though. Like an idiot, I climbed into my truck and made the careless drive home. My house was on the complete other side of town and I made two stops to throw up on the side of the road. I finally swerved into my driveway with only a little buzz and a bigger headache. I was able to sneak past my parents and fell into bed. This was when I could finally fall asleep and relax.
I woke up to plenty of messages from George and Ryan. I opened them up and each one was either a picture or video of me the previous night. The first one showed me dancing around with the Jack Daniels bottle in my hand. I looked as though I could barely stand, and everyone was just watching me and laughing. The next video showed me swinging around and falling onto the couch and rolling onto the floor. I could hear George’s voice behind the camera. He was the one who had recorded these videos it seemed. I was rolling around on the floor in the next video grabbing at George as he tried to pull me up. The embarrassment began to set in. At first, it was funny, to be honest but got less funny as the videos continued.
This is what happened at parties and I was somewhat ok with it being me at the center of attention. But as I kept watching the videos a wave of embarrassment washed over me. I realized then that no one there cared if I was truly ok. They just wanted to keep egging me on for the fun of it. Eventually, at the end of the videos, I was in my spot on the floor with the note and bowl next to me. I think about that night and how no one helped me. I just remember how I felt when I woke up that morning. I was alone, in the dark, and vulnerable. I put myself in that situation but when I counted on them to watch out for me, all they did was laugh and observe. I looked at Ryan on the ground where I had put him. He was bloody and probably a little woozy. I walked over to him and pulled him up.
“You alright Ryan?”
“Fuck you man,” he said wiping the blood off his lip and chin. “Why the hell would you do that?” He pushed me back. “We need to fucking go,” he said walking over. I hesitated. He still seemed angry with me but decided there were more important matters at hand, I guess. He climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck and waited. I looked back at the ground where the incident began. The dead snake now cold and empty with its mouth still open rearing its fangs. I thought of the frogs who had survived the onslaught that night peering at us through the tall grass. I felt a strange sense of judgment being laid down upon me. Forgiveness would be hard to come by and punishment would be rightfully given to me. That freedom that I thought this untouched place gave me was merely an illusion. It was something I told myself in order to escape reality. These places aren’t the last bastion of freedom but rather places that strip down all preconceptions and distractions. They weren’t places you could go to hide but places where you were vulnerable to the environment around you. There were too many beasts in the dark for you to be safe there.
I climbed into the passenger seat and without a word, Ryan pulled the truck around and sped for the highway back into town. The truck was filled with an air of sweat, dried blood, and dirt that clung to each of us. George quietly writhed in the backseat still clutching his leg. I figured he would lose it at that point. The color was so distorted it seemed like a lost cause. I looked out the side window at the empty fields hidden under the moon’s light and thought about the first time we came out to this area.
I was just along for the ride since it was my first time. Ryan was first up, and he told me where to hold the flashlight. After about twenty minutes he had three good size frogs in the back seat. Then I took the gig in my hands for the first time. He shined the light on the ditch area where we could hear the frogs yelling at us and I saw the first set of eyes reflecting the flashlight back to me. I crept forward tightening my grip on the metal rod and judged the distance I would need to attack from. I felt a rush run through my bloodstream and stopped with just enough room to not scare it away. The little creature seemed to not have noticed me yet and I reached the gig out toward it to settle my aim. I felt a drop of sweat go down my arm onto my right hand. That was it. It was the moment I would kill a defenseless creature. My first kill. I pulled the gig back and tensed my arm muscles then thrust the gig right through the frog’s head in between its eyes. I pulled it closer and pinned it on the ground by my feet as its final thrashing stopped. Its light seemed to fade slowly. Suddenly an urge to smash it with my foot came over me and I picked up my booted heel about to come down. The frog stopped moving. Its eyes were empty and cold. I put my foot back down next to it and threw it in the back of the truck. Ryan and George laughed, and I handed George the gig for his turn.
I never thought the beginning and end of our friendship would be at this place. But then again, it all makes sense with time. You can only hide in the dark for so long until someone comes along with a flashlight and a metal pole with death at its end. What I did to George was unforgivable and I would spend a long time trying to find ways to apologize and make it up to him. He almost lost his leg or worse that night and was in physical therapy for a good while after that. Ryan never really spoke to me because of what I did to him as well. School that year was as awkward as ever. I had lost my status and my only friends. Certain people seemed to avoid me, and I can understand all that. I was the black sheep. The one who tried to kill his friend because he thought it was funny. I really wish I knew why I did what I did. I run over the history over and over again to no avail. Any time I think about it, it leaves me hollow.
I never left town in the years that passed since that night and I don’t think they did either. Sometimes I catch glimpses of them while I’m at the grocery store or out eating dinner. I see George with a hobble but a laughing and smiling face with his new family. Ryan isn’t far behind with his new girlfriend of the month. They seem happy for the most part. I wonder if they ever think about that night. Maybe George has to tell the story of how he got his hobble all the time and each time he either leaves me out or demonizes me. I probably deserve both treatments.
Last night I saw George and Ryan again at a bar downtown. They had a small posse with them, and I was seated at a table near the back. They were passing around beers to each person near them shouting and enjoying themselves. I hoped they wouldn’t see me so; I walked up to the bar to pay my check and leave. I felt a hand grab my shoulder and a loud voice in my ear.
“Hey dude! Long time no see,” Ryan said as I turned around. I was shocked, to say the least. I figured they never wanted to even come near me, much less talk to me.
“Oh hey! Uh what’s up?” The shock still settling in.
“Not much man, not much. What have you been up to dude? You like disappeared.”
“You know, just going to school and working and whatnot. What have you been up to?”
“I got a job at the bank and eventually I’m going to take it over,” he said with a laugh.
“That sounds great!” This rekindling of our relationship was strange for me. They had been radio-silent for years and now Ryan was over here acting like I was gone on a trip and had just returned. I saw George in the distance. He hadn’t noticed me yet and hopefully, Ryan wouldn’t ruin that. The bartender handed me my receipt to sign and I quickly wrote the amount with a tip.
“Leaving so soon bro? The night is still young!” Looked like they hadn’t really changed from all those years ago.
“Yeah, I gotta get up early tomorrow. Big day ahead of me.” I couldn’t even come up with a better lie.
“Ah, I gotcha dude. Well, it was good seeing ya. Oh! George is over there if you want to say hi. We miss you, dude. You should hit us up sometime.”
“I’ll think about it. I’m just so busy these days, you know?” I needed out of this conversation now.
“Ah, I understand man. Well, it was really good to see you. I mean it.” We shook hands and I made my way to the door. I saw George on one side of the bar, so I snuck past him in the crowd and overheard him talking about his leg. I cringed at the thought of having to face him in this environment. It was his natural habitat, and I would be put on the spot. A light would be shown on me and I would be plucked from the crowd and stomped on. Finally, I edged my way to the door and looked back for a second. I saw Ryan was back with George and suddenly he pointed towards me and George turned around. He looked right into my eyes. A small grin appeared on his face and he raised his drink towards me. He nodded and with now a big smile on his face and I nodded back. At that moment, I learned more than I care to share. I opened the door to the outside and remembered how guys like us were. I remembered those three boys outside of nowhere and the terrible bond we cemented in our lives. I was a frog ready to be curb-stomped but by some miracle, I was given mercy. My friends had given me mercy.
Jack Fowler 