314 (2 page)

Mark felt helpless. He was a big guy, over
220 pounds, and he worked out in the basement every night. His job
kept him fit as well, and he prided himself on his physique.
However, none of his strength could help him now. He often said
that he loved his son more than life itself, but now he was being
forced to prove it.

“You’ve lost your mind, Jeremy. Something’s
wrong with you. Trust me, I’d never hurt you.” He started to stand
back up and reach out to his son.

Jeremy reacted as if his father was
threatening to strike him. His eyes grew wide and he moved back as
he yelled. “You’re hurting me now! Can’t you see that? Look at my
blood, Daddy! You’re killing me.”

“Stop it, Jeremy.” Mark cried out, but
didn’t dare to move forward.

Jeremy dug the blade into his neck and
cringed in pain as he shouted for mercy. “Daddy, don’t hurt me like
this! Please don’t hurt me.”

“Okay, Jeremy, tell me what I have to do.
Tell me what you want.”

“Get in the tub, Dad!”

Mark stepped into the bathtub with his arms
outstretched as if to ensure Jeremy that he was being submissive.
“Okay, I’m in. Now put the razor down.”

“Take your shirt off,” said Jeremy with the
razor still pressed to his bleeding throat.

Mark did as he was told and tossed the shirt
to the floor. A chill came over him as a waft of green fog trailed
across the hallway behind Jeremy.

“You can’t expect me to just sit here and
let this happen,” said Mark.

“If you don’t, then the Skeleton Man is
going to make you watch me kill myself. Is that what you want?”

“I’m not going to let that happen,” said
Mark. He got angrier the longer this went on.

Jeremy stepped back and leaned to the side
as if listening to someone in the hall. Then he came back into the
bathroom. “If you step out of the tub, or try to knock away the
pots of water, then I’m going to kill myself. It’s important that
you know that. You have to do as you’re told, Dad. Okay? Do you
understand?”

“No, God damn it! No, I don’t understand,
Jeremy. Why are you doing this? Please just put the razor
down.”

“We’ve tried to let you live before, but The
Skeleton Man was right about you,” said Jeremy. Blood ran down his
arm and dripped from his elbow. “This is the only way we can save
the children. It has to start with the Daddies dying.”

“Then why are you going to boil me? Why did
you say that you’re going to strip my flesh and pour chemicals on
me? Don’t you think this Skeleton Man is the evil one? Buddy, I’m
your Dad, you’ve got to trust me.”

“No,” said Jeremy. “I’ve made that mistake
before. There’s only one person that I trust now, and we’re going
to do this the way he wants.”

A pair of cautious footsteps came from the
hall. Mark heard water slosh over the side of a container and hit
the floor as two children yelped in surprise.

“Be careful,” said one of the high pitched
voices.

“I am, you be careful,” said the other.

Jeremy stepped into the hall so his friends
could come in. Mark recognized the two boys that carried the water.
They lived in the neighborhood, although he didn’t know their
names. They wore oven mitts and carried a large Pyrex bowl filled
with steaming water between them.

“We got this one from the micowaver,” said
the younger of the two boys. His childish wording belied his
horrific intention as he waddled into the room. Water spilled over
the side and the boy swiftly moved his barefoot to keep the water
from burning him. Both of the boys had muddy feet that left tracks
across the linoleum as they approached.

“Don’t you dare,” said Mark. He backed into
the corner of the tub and knocked over a bottle of shampoo as he
did. “You get away from me with that.”

The two boys stopped and looked back at
Jeremy as if to ask what they should do. Jeremy looked at his
father, disappointed. “Don’t fight this, Dad. You need to sit down
and let them pour the water on you.”

“Fuck that,” said Mark. He tried his best to
avoid cursing in front of his son, but the current situation
absolved that concern.

“You want to watch me die?” asked
Jeremy.

“No, of course not,” said Mark. “But I’m not
going to sit here and let your little friends pour boiling water on
me either. This is crazy.” He stared at the bowl instead of looking
at Jeremy. The water wasn’t bubbling, but he had no doubt it was
searing hot. He was familiar with how water heated in a microwave
doesn’t bubble, but can still get hotter than water boiled on a
stove.

“What happens if you die?” asked one of the
boys of Jeremy. Then he looked at Mark and added, “What if he tries
to fight back?”

“Then the Skeleton Man will slaughter all of
us and start over.” Jeremy spoke with utter certainty, as if this
was a possibility he’d known for years and had come to accept. “My
Daddy will have killed us all.”

“Fuck this, Jeremy,” said Mark. “You’ve gone
insane. This is crazy!”

“Just throw it on him.” Jeremy spoke like a
callous war criminal instructing his soldiers to execute a
prisoner.

“Okay,” said one of the boys. They stepped
forward and tipped the bowl on its side as they threw it into the
tub. The glass bowl slammed into Mark and the water seared his
skin. He staggered back as the wave hit him. He fell against the
cold tile wall where he slid down as the water stung his skin. He
swiped away the wetness as he screamed and writhed.

“The water’s going down the drain,” said
Jeremy, disappointed. “Someone plug the drain or else we won’t be
able to cook him!”

One of the boys stepped forward to do as
Jeremy instructed, but Mark slapped the child on the side of the
head, sending him smashing into the wall. The child crumpled on the
bathroom floor and cried out in pain.

“Hey!” Jeremy screamed at his father. “Do
you like watching me die?” He swiped the razor across his cheeks
and cried out in pain before pressing the blade against his throat
again. “Is this what you want? Don’t hurt my friends or I’m going
to keep cutting myself up.”

Mark looked at the skin on his arms where
he’d tried to block the wave of scalding water. His arms were
brilliant red and the thick black hair seemed to be melting off
him. He growled in pain and anger and then slammed his hand down on
the tub’s plunger. He seethed as he glowered at his son. “Fine.
Bring it on. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Jeremy, not even
yourself. If this is how I have to prove it, then so be it. Do your
worst.”

Two more children appeared at the door with
another bowl of water. The steam swirled in the bathroom and mixed
with the fog that had started to fill the house. As the torture
continued, and Mark suffered wave after wave of boiling water, he
thought he saw a man lean in from the hallway, peering through the
thickening steam to watch Mark’s agony.

The Skeleton Man laughed.

16 Years Later

March 9th, 2012

“I love these kids,” said Alma Harper. “I’ve
had some great groups this year.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” said Principal
White. She walked with Alma through Trenton Elementary. Class was
in session, so the halls were empty except for the hum of teachers
and children speaking behind closed doors. The walls were papered
with drawings of mythical creatures that the third grade class had
done for a recent project. Half of the pictures were of smiling
unicorns and the other half were demonic monstrosities, probably
drawn exclusively by boys.

Alma had her guitar strapped over her
shoulder and adjusted it as they walked. She towered over Principal
White, who was a short, pudgy woman in her fifties. Alma’s tall,
lanky figure was accentuated when standing next to her boss.

“Alma, I’m afraid I have some bad news for
you.”

Alma was aware of recent budget cuts, but
she’d been assured that her music class was safe. Of course,
employees on the brink are rarely warned before the axe comes down,
and government jobs suffer more from callous cuts than any other
industry.

Alma unconsciously slowed her pace and her
dread must’ve been revealed by her pallor because Principal White
was quick to console her. “It’s not that bad,” said Mrs. White.
“You’re not losing your job. We still need a music program.”

Alma put her hand over her heart and was
surprised by how fast it was beating. “Thank goodness. You scared
me.”

“We love you around here, Alma. And more
importantly, the kids love you.”

“Thanks,” said Alma as she started to walk
at a regular pace again. “But you said you had bad news.”

“I do,” said Mrs. White. “I know you’ve been
in your room for a couple years now, but we’re having a lot of
trouble with the recent budget cuts. We’re doing everything we can
to deal with them, and I’m afraid we had to give your space to the
new remedial math program.”

“Okay,” said Alma, a mix of concern and
sorrow in her tone. “So where am I being moved to? The old room was
already too small for us. I can’t imagine trying to cram all of the
kids and their instruments into a smaller space.”

“I know, Alma. Trust me, I’ve been trying to
figure this out for a long time. I had to come to a decision
because Mr. Franks wants to start building his new math room over
spring break.”

Mrs. White guided Alma down one of the
school’s hallways that led to the lab rooms, auditorium, and
cafeteria.

“You’re kidding,” said Alma. “Spring break
starts tomorrow. I thought you were talking about this happening at
the beginning of the next school year. Are you saying I only have a
week to get a new room set up?”

“I know this is last minute,” said Mrs.
White.

“Yeah, you’re not kidding.” Alma had always
been told that she was too nice for her own good, but this
situation tried her patience. She ran her hand through her long,
dark hair and scratched at the top of her head as she sighed. “I
guess I didn’t have any spring break plans anyhow. Looks like I’m
going to be busy.”

Mrs. White put her hand on Alma’s back and
smiled up at her. “As soon as I heard about this, I knew we had to
come up with a good solution for you. I got together with a few of
the other teachers, and some of your students, and we came up with
a plan.”

They came to a stop in front of a lab room
door and Mrs. White had an odd grin, as if she was desperately
trying to hide something from Alma.

“How long have you known this was going to
happen?” Alma was suspicious of the principal’s giddy demeanor.
“What are you up to?”

Mrs. White shook her head and giggled. Her
face was turning red and she refused to look directly at Alma as
she swung the door open. She pushed Alma into the room and suddenly
the deception was revealed.

“Surprise, Miss Harper!”

A chorus of voices greeted Alma as she was
pushed into the room. Her knees buckled at the sight of over a
hundred kids lined up on stadium style seats along the far wall.
Music notes had been painted on the walls, and a piano was situated
to the left of the entrance, its black lacquer reflecting the
sparkling lights high above. The cherry wood floor vibrated from
the applause of the teachers, children, and parents that had
gathered to surprise her.

“What’s this?” asked Alma as tears sprang to
her eyes. She put her fingertips over her mouth as Mrs. White
continued to push at her back to force her further in. “What did
you guys do?”

Mrs. White took Alma’s guitar case and
handed it to a teacher’s assistant who then placed it against the
wall. The crowd was still clapping and saying a myriad of kind
things as Alma pressed her hands over her mouth as she cried.

There was a camera crew in the corner with a
news reporter who waited with a microphone. They walked into the
center of the room as Mrs. White finally backed away. Alma turned
to look at the principal and saw that she was overjoyed. Mrs.
White’s face was beet red and she waved at her eyes in an attempt
to stop crying. “Surprise,” she squeaked, hardly able to speak.

A tall woman in a black and grey pants suit
stepped forward from the bleachers. It was Blair Drexler, the head
of the PTA. “The local news station contacted us and set all this
in motion. They heard about how the recent budget cuts were going
to threaten your music class, and got together with us to try and
stop it from happening. Not a single one of us on the PTA were
going to let that happen.”

Alma had trouble standing. She stumbled and
Blair rushed forward to provide her support. “How did you do
this?”

“We voted and unanimously agreed to use the
proceeds from the recent jog-a-thon to fund the construction of a
new music room. And the Channel 7 news team helped out a lot too.”
She turned to look at the news crew and a thin, strawberry blonde
woman stepped forward. The reporter quickly wiped away a tear and
composed herself.

“Hello, Miss Harper,” said the reporter. She
was a gorgeous young woman, with a thin waist that tapered to wide
thighs. She wore massive heels that shamed Alma’s penny loafers,
but even the three inch boost couldn’t raise the petite reporter to
the music teacher’s height.

“Oh my gosh,” said Alma as she wiped away
tears. “I can’t believe this. How did this happen?” She burst into
laughter and Blair joined in. They hugged and then Alma continued
to try and compose herself for the cameras. “I must look like a
wreck.”

The kids on the bleachers laughed and
spontaneously started cheering again. One of the second graders, a
sweet boy named Billy, ran off the stands and past the gathered
teachers and parents, several of whom tried to catch him. He
collided with Alma and wrapped his arms around her legs.

“Surprise, Miss Harper,” he said as he
embraced her.

She knelt down and pulled him into a tight
embrace. This initiated a rush from the stands as the other
children decided to join in. Everyone was laughing as the kids
pushed their way to Alma, each wanting to get their chance to hug
their favorite teacher. The camera man and reporter were forced
back as the swell of children surrounded Alma.