Brogue 2007 - Belhaven College

t h e b r o g u e
“Can’t quote me on it yet, but yup. Traces of accelerant found...” The
talk got more technical and Danny found his tired eyes and attention wandering
off into the shadowy pine depths behind the house. “...ignited stored
camp stove fuel...flashover occurred...”
“You didn’t find any human remains did you?” Danny interrupted. Cliff
sighed.
“None. It was a fairly sloppy job. If it weren’t for those fuel cans, it
wouldn’t have burned so—sorry, hang on.” He stepped away to answer his
phone. Danny walked slowly through the scene towards the pines that had
captivated him, perhaps lured in his sleep-deprived state to their hallowed
and silent dark. In retrospect, he could never explain the meeting that followed,
and so he never tried.
“Hello. Sheriff Shelton?” Bob Abies looked just like he did on the
poster. Just like he always had looked, except maybe even more gaunt and
grizzled and old. His pack was still on his back as he leaned against a tree and
watched the forensics team picking over the debris that was once his home.
It was dim and his eyes and teeth shone white as he watched Danny expectantly.
Danny’s hand slipped instinctively to his holster.
“I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”
Bob Abies folded his arms slowly, and spoke slowly, with an almost
serene calmness.
“I prefer to talk here.”
$ $ $
He remembered the first time she had found him. Two Junes ago, she
had surprised him; she was six then and had run away for the first time. It
was evening and Bob painted after dinner. That night he worked on his
Quileute alphabet series: b for bá-yak, raven, d for duskiya, the kelp-haired
child-snatcher. Something was whimpering in the backyard, no animal that
Bob Abies had ever heard before. He set his brush down and peered outside,
shocked to see a small girl sitting by his woodpile, bawling. Bob observed her
for a moment: her brown curls were matted, and her arms were covered in
bruises and were scratched by the nettles that grew in abundance behind his
house. He wondered when someone would come for her. He wondered how
she had gotten this far out into the woods—it was a long way from his house
to the next. It soon became evident that she was alone. Bob stepped outside,
moving slowly, as if he were approaching a wounded animal.
“Hello?” His voice seemed odd and out of place in the forest, he never
spoke to himself and thus hadn’t spoken in weeks. Carin started, terrified.
“Hello, it’s ok, easy there,” he murmured as she began to cry again,
scooting off the chopping block and edging to the woods. “Easy now, it’s
okay. Are you lost?”
She nodded, shivering in her summer outfit.
36