Prologue

October 1983 – Hazard, Kentucky

Nine-year-old Elliot Cooper laughed as his little brother screamed with delight as they soared down a small slope covered with autumn foliage that lined the forest bed of the Cumberland Plateau. Elliot led them off the well-worn path, through the dense woods just beyond the property line of their house. Jumping and bouncing, the boys skidded on dried leaves and rocks, and laughed with a reckless abandon as they moved deeper and deeper into the woods.

God must have been bored with green and decided to paint the tree leaves vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows, Elliot thought as he gripped his brother’s fingers so tightly their knuckles burned. Most kids didn’t see the beauty of the colors that annually blanketed the south-eastern edge of the Appalachian Mountains like adults did. Kids noticed that what was once green was now a vibrant spectrum of colors, while adults reflected on the true beauty in the death of the leaves. Elliot wasn’t like most kids. He saw things the way adults saw them.

While most kids turned off their observational eyes, Elliot turned his on. He always noticed things; colors mostly. He noticed that sometimes the moon dipped low and big in the sky, swirling with a hazy orange color that made dark shadows even darker. Elliot noticed that the night sky was a deeper shade of blue when there was only a half moon, and in the summer months, when the sun set a little bit higher in the clouds, the grass seemed just a little bit greener. Elliot liked the way colors made him feel—more alive, somehow. Like now, in the woods, with the harvest rainbow above his head, Elliot felt safe and warm.

Pointing ahead to Moonlight Ravine, Elliot smiled as his brother’s fingers slipped from his. They ran side-by-side through the woods, leaves crunching under the soles of their old tennis shoes. The boys climbed onto a large, moss-covered, fallen tree that was their bridge across the deep ravine. Elliot started across first, spreading his arms wide, he moved one foot in front of the other as he slowly crossed. A gust of wind caused him to teeter, the ends of the red pillow case he had tied around his neck like a cape lifted and settled against his back again. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Jason was okay, Elliot moved forward and squinted as another breeze pushed against his eyelashes.

Jumping from the log, Elliot laughed when Jason landed at his side, and again the boys grasped hands and sprinted deeper into the woods. The faster and harder they ran the more they felt the wind against their faces, and the more invincible they became. Nothing could stop them because they were Pterodactyls—no, they were fire-breathing dragons from the old ages.

Elliot loved dragons and aspired to be one when he grew up. Dragons were powerful creatures that no one would mess with; dragons could defend anymore. Elliot wanted to defend people. Dropping Jason’s hand and puffing out his little chest, he picked up speed so that his cape was billowing out behind him. He slowed when the sun over their heads disappeared, casting the woods with an ominous shadow. Both boys stopped and stared up at the tree canopy above them. They waited for the sun to return, and when it came and disappeared against the woods felt less welcoming.

Jason wrapped his fingers around Elliot’s wrist and stepped closer. “Dragons,” he whispered. Grinning, Elliot took Jason’s hand, and pulled his forward through the darkened woods.

After rounding Bourbon Bend, Elliot released his brother’s hand and climbed on top of a large boulder released from the mountain top years ago. The stone was cool beneath his warm fingertips and didn’t move as Elliot shifted his weight around so he could stand. When he got his footing, he threw his fists into the air victoriously and tossed his head back. The sun came out from behind the clouds and bathed his face in warmth. Elliot closed his eyes as a sweet-smelling air rushed from his toes up the length of his body, tickling his face and tussling his hair.

Elliot liked autumn best; that time right before the cold winter winds set in and brought white blanketing snow. Autumn was the best. He breathed in deeply and exhaled even slower—autumn smelled good.

When Elliot opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at the red leaves falling loosely from the tree branches that shook with the wind. He squinted as the sun peeked at him through the branches and strained his eyes.

“Hey, Jaz… do you think…”
A small stone hit Elliot in the side, distracting him from his thoughts. He looked down to see Jason laughing as he ran away.

Launching himself off the boulder, Elliot landed on a soft bed of leaves a few feet away. Pressing his fingertips into the soft, warm dirt, Elliot wiggled his bottom in the air and then squatted down like one of those track racers on Mr. Josiah’s TV. The announcer materialized at his side, just like in a real race, and told him to take his mark. Elliot squeezed his fingers deeper into the ground for a better grip; his eyes on the horizon where Jason had ran.

“Set.”

Elliot raised his bottom into the air.

“GO!”

With the pop of a starter gun, Elliot pushed off the ground and tore after his brother. His cape flapped against his back and for a moment he thought that he would fly, just like a dragon.

Maneuvering around trees and shrubs with ease, Elliot jumped over one log after another until he caught sight of flapping end of Jason’s cape. Lifting his chin in determination, Elliot ran as hard as he could, his lungs burning with each breath. Inches from his brother and moments away from capturing him, Elliot laughed as Jason glanced over his shoulder and let out a high pitched squeal before pushing himself to run harder.

Climbing onto a large log, splintered and fallen from a lightening storm, Jason jumped as far as he could and soared through the air, his cape flapping in the wind before it settled against his tailbone.

Elliot climbed over the log and chased his brother until Jason gave up and allowed himself to be tackled to the soft leaf-covered ground. Breathlessly, the boys tussled in the dried leaves, tickling and playfully hitting one another. They fell away grasping for breath and rolled onto their back so they could look at the sky. Again, Elliot saw only the color of the leaves. He watched yet another dragon-shadow pass overhead, temporarily dulling the red leaves. Wind rustled the branches above them, sending leaves that could no longer hold floating to the ground.

“It’s pretty,” Elliot murmured.

“I guess.” Jason rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself onto his knees. He brushed the leaf crumbs from his pant legs and stood. “Come on, Help me find brown leafs.”

Elliot waited for his lungs to settle completely and then rolled onto his stomach. He pushed himself up but didn’t bother brushing away the leaf residue on his clothes, he liked it there. Walking away from Jason, Elliot squatted to gather up a handful of leaves. He took them back to Jason and dropped them at his feet.

“There you go,” Elliot said. “We’ll need more. It’s too small to jump in.”

“We ain’t jumpin’,” Jason’s fingers separated the pile, examined the leaves, and then shook his head with annoyance. “These is green, El! I need brown—like this,” he held the stem of a brown leaf between his fingers and rolled it so that Elliot Could see the color.

Elliot stalked off again and bent down for a more thorough search of the leaves. He wasn’t sure why Jason wanted the ugly brown ones, he himself liked the red ones—especially ones that had a little yellow left in the center. He made two piles, one with brown leaves and one with red, yellow, and orange leaves. He chose the best of the red ones and put them in the front pocket of his overalls, and took the rest to Jason.

Sitting with his legs folded under him, Elliot watched as Jason sorted out the leaves, picking ones that were the same color brown. Leaning forward so that he could see the leaves a bit closer, Elliot watched as Jason reached into the front pocket of his overalls and pulled out what looked like a lighter.

“We gonna start a fire?”

“No.” Jason pulled the cap off and twisted up the bottom of a glue stick.

“You took that from Mrs. Josiah’s arts and crafts table!” Elliot cried. “She will beat you again, Jaz.”

Jason shrugged his bony shoulder and bent down to carefully apply glue to the back of one of the leaves. He was slow and careful in his application, stopping several times to pick brown leaf fragments from the top of the glue stick.

“I don’t want you to get beat,” Elliot said quietly.

“I get beat lots of times, El. Don’t hurt anymore.”

Elliot knew better than that. He had seen and tended to Jason after Mrs. Josiah’s beatings. She always used switches, electrical cords, or belts, and always left him covered in welts that wouldn’t heal because she never cleaned them. Jason always cried afterwards, he had just learned to do it when no one was watching, especially Mrs. Josiah. She hated crybabies.

Jason sat back and lifted the glue covered leaf to Elliot’s face. He pressed it against Elliot’s cheek and held it there.

“What are you doing?”

“Gonna make you like me, Jason answered. “Gonna make you brown, just like me.”

The glue was cold and smelled funny, but Elliot didn’t move. He watched Jason’s dark brown eyes as they started intently at the leaf and Elliot’s cheek. Jason sniffed a few times and cupped his hand against Elliot’s cheek, his palm pressed against Elliot’s lips. He waited a moment and then took his hand back. Elliot felt the leaf slip and crossed his eyes to get a look at it.

“Hold it there, El, I want to glue more.”

“We’re gonna need a lot.”

Jason twisted the bottom of the stick and then went back to work. They managed to paste seven leaves to Elliot’s right cheek and jaw before the glue stick ran out. Jason tossed the plastic canister into the woods and then looked at Elliot. They hadn’t made much progress as most of Elliot’s face was still a creamy white. With a spurt of laughter, Jason pushed himself up off the ground and brushed off his pants again.

“You should see, El.”

Elliot touched his face carefully and felt the rough leaves. He grinned and also stood. “We just need more glue.”

“Take it off, looks dumb.”

“No way!” Elliot stood and grabbed Jason’s hand. “Come on, Melman’s Brook is just ahead.”

The familiar gurgle of the rapids at the brook was music to Elliot’s ears. They hadn’t been there since that summer and he was excited that they would be able to play again today. Melman’s Brook was a small creek tributary, just deep enough to float their makeshift raft on. Last summer, the boys had constructed a small two person raft made from wood left over from one of Mr. Josiah’s furniture projects and a few thicker branches that they had found in the woods. It had taken them four days to make a suitable raft that didn’t leak too much, and only had one day to ride it before Mrs. Josiah locked them in the house because the state lady was coming to visit.

Pushing through the low slung tree branches, Elliot hurried to the bank and noticed that the water was much higher than it had been that summer. It swirled brown, but that was not uncommon for this location. Elliot bent down and ran let the cold water run over his fingers. He picked up a small rounded stone and slipped it into his pocket. He then hurried to Jason’s side and helped him brush the leaves off their raft. Together they carried it to the edge of the water.

“You think it’s good?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, the woods protected it.”

Elliot saw the green moss growing on the underside of the raft and picked off a few snails and tossed them to the other side of the brook. He grabbed the stick that he would use to steer and the boys dragged their raft closer to the cold water. They walked through the water about twenty feet before they came to the drop off where the water was at least two feet deep.

Moving around to the front of the raft, Elliot braced it against his hips so that Jason could climb on the back. The current rushed hard against his ankles and calves, sending cold chills up and down his spine. His body trembled against the cold and his teeth chattered. Jason, who was seven and a few inches shorter than Elliot, hugged his chest as his teeth chattered together noisily. He gave Elliot a toothy grin as he climbed on and settled himself on the back of the raft. Jason clutched the logs with his slender fingers and nodded to Elliot that he was ready. Elliot slowly turned and slipped his bottom onto the raft.

“Whoa, I’m lifting!” Jason shouted as Elliot began to bring his legs up.

“Sit more on the back, I’m almost on.”

He pulled his legs up and the raft teetered, dipping low in the front and raising high in the back. Elliot winced as the cold water rushed into his underwear and then wiggled backward until he and Jason had found their equilibrium. Elliot lifted the steering stick off the muddy ground, and they began floating over the drop off and down the creek.

Jason leaned over to run his fingers through the clear water and caught sight of a pool of little minnows. He thought about asking Elliot if they could they could come back soon and catch some. The ones he had gotten that summer had died when Mrs. Josiah got angry and added bleach to their water.

The boys floated quietly down the brook; Jason looking for better minnow pools and Elliot gazing up at the tree braches with awe. Soon, Melman Brook would transverse into Corkscrew Creek, which would take them through a few little rapids and a little waterfall that would shoot them into a still pool. Once there, they would have to push out until they found a current that would loop them into Cherry Dove Creek, which rounded the Josiah Farm where they lived. They should be home before dinner.

When Melman Brook fused with Corkscrew Creek, the boys’ raft spun in circles until they became lodged against the shallow bank. Using his stick to push them into deep water, Elliot settled back and stared down the creek. He could see another rapid approaching.

“Your leafs on?’ Jason asked as he poked Elliot’s protruding shoulder blade to get his attention.

Elliot crossed his eyes to see the brown leaves on his cheek and nodded, “Yup.”

Jason settled back spreading his legs on either side of Elliot’s body. Wiggling his big toe against the hold at the top of his Keds, Jason tilted his head back and stared up at the sky.

“Toby says that we go to the streets at sixteen.”

“Toby don’t know anything,” Elliot said as he pressed the stick to the bottom of the brook to straighten out their raft.

“Michel left at sixteen, you saw.” Jason sniffed and rubbed his nose against his damp sleeve. “I just wish I was nine too, then we could go together.”

“Don’t matter,” Elliot murmured as he stared off into the distance and thought about how Michel had cried when Mrs. Josiah set him on the street in Hazard and told him not to come home. “I’ll live in the mountains when I’m sixteen and I’ll come visit until we can live together at Razortooth Cave.”

“Far away from crazy old Mrs. Josiah,” Jason fingered the hole in the knee of his overalls and sat up carefully so that they wouldn’t tip over. He tapped Elliot’s shoulder and smiled. “Here comes the Corkscrew.”

Their raft picked up speed at the joining of the small brook with the larger creek.

“Remember not to grab my neck if we flip, you almost drowned me last time,” Elliot scolded.

“I promise.” Jason sniffed again and rubbed his runny nose against his shoulder. He watched the nearing white capped water and felt a rush of excitement. He poked Elliot in the shoulder. “Hey, those leafs still on?”

“Yup.”

“Good.”

They floated through the first set of rapids with ease, and managed to make it through the second, more powerful set without flipping, a feat considering they flipped there several times that summer. At the final rapid section that pushed them into Corkscrew Creek, Elliot lost his balance and pitched forward during a particularly rough bump. He had only stayed on the raft because Jason had grabbed his shoulders and jerked him back. They had both become considerably wet that last run, but neither cared. Jason leaned forward and put his cold hands on Elliot’s back, laughing so hard that it came out like the honk of a duck. The more Jason laughed, the louder the honking became.

“You almost went face first!”

Honk, honk, honk, honk, honk, honk.

Jason threw his head back and continued to laugh while Elliot reached back to slap his knee to get him to be quiet. He smiled as Jason’s laughter turned into little giggles followed by the occasional honk. Elliot rubbed his cheek against his shoulder and tried to get the blood away from his face.

“You be quiet, or I will go in on purpose, dump us, and lose all of my leafs.” Elliot smiled and brought their raft straighter in the water. “I’ll never look like you then.”

“You should be bald, like me.”

“Chop my hair?” Elliot touched the straggly strands that constantly got into his eyes and shook his head. “She likes my hair.”

“Let me do it,” Jason said leaning forward.

“You’ll get beat.”

Jason shrugged his shoulder. “Don’t hurt.”

Elliot pressed his lips together and eased them down the creek. He wished Mrs. Josiah wouldn’t always pick on Jason like she did. He was the youngest in the house and got blamed for any trouble that the older kids did. Elliot got blames a lot too, but Mrs. Josiah never beat him. She was always stroking his hair and telling him what a good boy he was. But she didn’t like him enough to stop beating Jason, so Elliot assumed that she really didn’t love him at all. She just liked to touch him; she liked to run her fingers through his hair and rub his back.

As the raft floated along toward Cherry Dove Creek, Jason studied his brother with a critical eye and decided that no amount of leaves would be able to turn Elliot’s white skin brown. He sighed and looked to the woods on his left. The bushes and trees that lined the creek were pretty, Jason supposed. He liked the yellow leaves the best, they reminded him of the sun and he liked staring at the sun. He liked the way he saw red and black splotches afterwards.

The bushes moved slightly and Jason saw two men just beyond the trees. One was wearing a baseball cap and a red flannel shirt, the other was carrying something on his shoulder. They were both ducked down so Jason couldn’t see their faces. Uneasy that he and Elliot would be spotted and Mrs. Josiah would be angry, Jason put his hands in the water and started to propel them forward, away from the men.

When they were far enough down the creek, Jason sat back and wiped his hands on his pants. He stared at the leaves still stuck to Elliot’s cheek and shook his head.

He sighed, “El, you can’t get brown like me.”

“Maybe next summer,” Elliot said hopefully. “You know Mrs. Josiah gets real busy in the summer and we’re always outside. I can get brown then.”

Jason honked. “Ha, you gonna run around naked?”

“I might,” Elliot said. “The sun’s the only way, Jaz.”

Jason snorted. “The sun burns you.”

“Yeah, but I get brown after.” Elliot flipped his hair out of his eyes and stared straight ahead. “You still wearing your cape?” He asked.

Elliot glanced over his shoulder to see Jason tugging at the knots at his neck. Looking forward again, Elliot sighed and pushed the stick into the slushy ground hoping to get to Cherry Dove a little faster. It was his favorite creek; fast, bubbly, and always just a little bit scary. They hit a series of little bumps. Cold water splashed up onto Elliot’s knees as they approached another rapid just before the entrance into Cherry Dove.

Jason tugged twice on Elliot’s cape and leaned forward.

“Hey, El, I just saw…”

The sky popped over their heads and Elliot was thrown face first into the creek. He came up banging his head on their raft which floated away on the rapids. Sputtering water, Elliot pushed the cape over his head and used both hands to push his hair out of his eyes. He twisted around in the freezing cold water and managed to move onto his hands and knees. He slipped twice on the muddy bottom before he righted his footing.

“What did you do that for?” He shouted. “We’re never gonna catch that raft now unless it gets lodge… Jaz?”

Elliot twisted around and scanned the surface of the water for Jason, but he had vanished. He looked down the creek, but couldn’t see anything there either. Finding his footing, Elliot worked against the current to the bank. Dripping wet and shivering, he hurried up the bank and looked over the water. He didn’t see Jason anywhere; the water just swirled with a murky reddish-brown color and rushed on into the rapids. Running down the bank, Elliot scanned the water and shopped short a few feet past the rapids. Jason was in the middle of Cherry Dove Creek, floating face down in the slow-moving water.

Elliot jumped into the water, landing on his belly beside Jason’s body. Ignoring the sting on his skin, Elliot pulled Jason across the water to the bank and dragged him up the muddy ground. Crawling to his brother, Elliot put his hand on Jason’s arm and shook him.

“Jaz, you okay?” Did you hit your head?”

Elliot blinked way the water in his eyes and sniffed, waiting for Jason to respond. He touched Jason’s shoulder again and then looked at his face. His cape had become twisted around his head like a turban, and was covered in deep reddish-brown mud. Jason’s body was lifeless at Elliot’s side. Elliot sniffed and wiped water out of his eyes. Elliot bit his lower lip and chewed it nervously. Uncertain, he nudged Jason’s shoulder again and whimpered as Jason’s body gave easily. Elliot sat back on his heels, and stared at Jason’s chest. It wasn’t moving. Elliot looked around slowly and then shook Jason again, harder this time.

“Jaz, Mrs. Josiah’s going to be really upset if we don’t’ go home soon. Can you wake up please?”

When Jason didn’t move, Elliot leaned over and pressed his ear to Jason’s chest. He closed his eyes so he could listen better and then sat back with a moan, tears stinging his eyes.

“Come on, Jaz,” he whispered. Pressing his lips together, Elliot looked around to see if anyone was there to help, but he was very much alone and suddenly fearful of the woods and their silence. Pushing himself up, he ran as hard as he could for home. He ignored the sky popping just over his head, and he ran until his lungs burned.

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His fingers shook against the grip of his gun as he lowered the weapon to his side. He watched Elliot Cooper’s red cape whip around a tree and disappear out of sight. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants, against the small of his back and cursed. Damn kids. Taking a Marlboro from the pack in his front pocket, he tapped down the tobacco and licked his chapped lips. His hands still shook as he placed the cigarette between his chapped lips and dug into the front pocket of his jeans for the book of matches he always carried.

He licked the back of the cigarette before striking a match. He let the flame lick over the end of his cigarette and took a long drag. He watched the woods were Elliot had disappeared and wondered if the little bastard would come back soon. He hoped not—for Elliot’s sake. But then the boy really hadn’t seen anything, only the black one had, and it wasn’t like the kid could alert the police and lead them into the woods within the next fifteen minutes. All he needed was some time to take care of his business and get the hell out of there. They would be long gone by then.

His eyes fell to the creek where he could see Jason Murray’s body laying listlessly, half-in and half-out of the water.

Stupid nosey little fucker, he thought.

“Tony!” He shouted. His voice echoed off the trees which were now dropping blood red leaves over him. He brushed a leaf from his shoulder and turned to look for his brother. Tony came out of the clearing, liming on his left leg, his eyes moist from exertion and the dry air. He smelled like body odor, stale cigarettes, and booze.

Shaking his head at his poor excuse for a brother, he knocked ash from the tip of his cigarette and took another long drag. “Clean this mess up!” His brother nodded and ambled away slowly.

There was just enough time for him to retrace his and Tony’s steps, clean up Tony’s mess, and figure out what to do with the dead black kid. He looked back up the bank to where the kid lay, his feet bobbing back and forth as the creek rushed over his dirty white sneakers. That stupid red cape he was wearing had twisted up around his head. The rapids had done that.

He took one last drag before he put out the cigarette on the sole of his boot and pocketed the butt. Pushing through the shrubs he moved to the bank of the creek and stopped by Jason’s lifeless, emaciated body. He shook his head and nudged the body with the tip of his boot.

“Tony!” He shouted, growing aggravated that everything had gotten so damn mucked up. It was always something with his kid brother—he just couldn’t stop himself. Tony came into the clearing, his eyes on Jason’s body. There was pain in Tony’s eyes, but right now he could really care less. It took him several seconds, but Tony lifted his eyes and cleared his throat.

“String him up, Tony.”

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The children who lived on the Josiah Farm could hear Mrs. Fiona Josiah and Mr. George Honeycutt in wild throws of passion from a hundred feet away where they were playing in the yard. It was always the same, every afternoon someone new came to visit Mrs. Josiah and she sent them out to play, and every afternoon they heard her screams drifting through the single-paned windows of the tattered old farm house.

A few of the kids glanced toward the farm house as Fiona’s screams, mixed with guttural grunts from Sheriff Honeycutt, reached them. Only the older ones knew what was going on in the house; the younger were blissfully unaware and consumed by their game of tag. The older kids knew why the Hazard County Sheriff always parked his patrol car behind the shed and instead of in the front of the house, and why he only visited Mrs. Josiah while Parker Josiah was out working. She was getting her daily fix from one of her many lovers.

George Honeycutt, sheriff for nearly ten years now, grabbed handfuls of Fiona’s mousy brown hair and jerked her head back as he pounded against her from behind. She was nothing like his Beth Ann in bed. Fiona Josiah was a solid woman with a strong sexual appetite, she wanted him in ways women had never wanted him before. George came to her bed whenever he could. She liked it rough and fast and a lot, and he liked to oblige.

George jerked her hips roughly and let out a long roar of pleasure before he collapsed on her back. He looked the clock on her night stand and felt a surge of pride. Woowee… a whole ten minutes! A definite record for him, and he hoped that she appreciates his control. He brought his mouth to her ear and licked her there as he stroked her soft side, watching her pale skin move under his. He waited for his heart to settle and then pushed himself up on his hands and knees. Fiona rolled onto her back, her legs spread to him.

“More,” she whispered.

God damn this woman was going to kill me, he thought as he laughed and stroked her thighs. He wanted to tell her to give him a minute, but Fiona wasn’t patient and she wouldn’t take kindly to having to wait for anything. He moved over her and was about to bend his head when something outside the closed bedroom door crashed.

Fiona sat up and pulled the blankets over her chest, her wide green eyes were frantic as she stared at the door and then at George. She put her foot at the center of his chest and practically shoved him off the bed. She mouthed for him to hide in the closet. The door to the room swung open and little Elliot Cooper flew in dripping wet and gasping for air.

Fiona felt herself relax at the sight of her special little Elliot. Had it been any of the other brats, Fiona would have taken Parker’s belt to them with little mercy, but not Elliot. Fiona’s heart fluttered as Elliot looked at her—at all of her—and then at George. She wanted to take away the blanket and let him really look, but she couldn’t, not with George there.

“Get on out, boy!” George growled as he swatted his hand at Elliot. Fiona felt rage boil in her chest as her lover’s tone turned cruel.

“Don’t you dare talk to him like that, George.”

“Mrs. Josiah,” Elliot stammered as he approached the bed and then took three giant steps back, as if he were afraid to come any closer. “Ja-Ja-Jason… not b-breathing.”

Fiona’s rage turned to fear at Elliot’s obvious concern for his little monkey of a foster brother. So help her, Fiona didn’t like taking in the black ones, but the checks were too good to pass up. Jason was the last of her concern, but the social workers were going to be coming in a day or so and nothing could be amiss. Fiona jumped from the bed naked and put on her house coat and shoes. When she was dressed, she grabbed Elliot by the shoulders and shook him hard.

“What happened? I swear it Elliot, if you two fools have gone and done something to ruin my monthly checks I will kill you.”

Fiona tugged him through the small living room cluttered with hand-me-down clothes and thrift shop toys, and shoved the screen door open. Dragging Elliot across the porch and down the steps, she yelled at the others to stay outside.

“Where is he?”

“Cherry Dove,” Elliot stammered.

Elliot led Fiona on a well-worn path through the woods. He told her that they had been floating in the creek when Jason fell off and they went in. As he was explaining, George managed to catch up, still half undressed, and grunting as if he were in pain. Fiona watched as he stuffed his shirt into the front of his slacks and struggled with his utility belt. He moved hunched over, each step bringing a little moan from his mouth.

Once they reached Cherry Dove Creek, Elliot twisted his arm free of Fiona’s grasp and ran to the water where he had left Jason. He stared up and down the bank and then looked at Fiona. She put her hands on her ample hips and cocked her eyebrow up.

“Well?” She demanded.

Elliot bit his lip. “He was right here, Mrs. Josiah.”

“Well, he ain’t here now, is he?”

George stumbled out of the woods with a grunt and twisted his pants so they were on straight. He eyed Fiona and Elliot and then looked around the creek for Jason.

“What’s going on, Fiona?”

“Elliot lied,” she growled.

“No, ma’am, I didn’t!”

“Don’t lie!” Fiona’s shout echoed off the trees and hills and Elliot cowered, just like she wanted him to.

George rubbed his face and licked his lips. He could still taste the clam chowder he had had at Becca’s an hour ago. He looked down at Elliot and then let his eyes scan the area again. What he saw made his clam chowder creep up to the back of his throat. Never in his life had he seen someone hanged, but as he looked a cross the bank, he saw Jason swinging twelve feet off the ground by a rope.

“Holy mother of God, help us,” he whispered as he shook his head in disbelief. Fiona followed his gaze and screamed when she saw Jason. She went into George’s arms and he wanted to comfort her, he really did, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t take his eyes of Jason’s swinging body, and his mind was full of logistics of how he needed to handle this. He needed to radio his deputy.

Elliot felt tears sting his eyes as he stared at Jason’s body in the tree. He took a few steps forward; the cold water rushed over the toes of his shoes and seeped inside. He tried to clear the image of his little brother in the tree by shaking his head. The longer he stared the more he believed this to be very real.

“Jaz?” he whispered as he watched Jason’s red cape slip from his shoulders and flutter to the ground. The cloth pooled just beneath Jason’s feet and blew with a gust of wind but didn’t blow away. Elliot saw red blood all over Jason’s overalls and shirt. It dripped down his face from a cut on his head. The blood was shiny and black against Jason’s deep brown skin. His clothes were on, his white t-shirt was stained red and brown on his shoulder, and his arms hung loosely at his sides. As the wind blew, Jason’s body swayed and turned toward Elliot.

Elliot noticed that there was writing on Jason’s pant legs and had to squint to be able to read it. He wasn’t a good reader, but he managed from time to time. The first word was easy; three letters: D-I-E. The second word was harder because it was much longer. He stepped deeper in the creek and squinted his eyes again. Four letters: N-I-G-G…

“What. Have. You. Done?” Fiona screamed as she slapped Elliot across the back of the head. She hit him so hard that he flew and fell into the water, banging his head on a rock just below the surface. She dragged him out by the ankle and began pummeling his head with her fists. “You’ve ruined everything!”

Elliot tried to block her swinging hands, but gave in after he looked back at Jason. The more Mrs. Josiah hit Elliot, the more he wished that she would kill him too, that way he could be with Jason. He didn’t want to be alone at the Josiah Farm with no one to talk to, no one to laugh with. Unfortunately, Mrs. Josiah didn’t kill him; but she would have had the sheriff not pulled her away and taken her back to the house leaving Elliot with Jason’s body.

Tears stung his eyes as he stared up at the dark sky. His eyes slowly moved back to Jason even though he didn’t want to look at him anymore. Elliot watched helplessly as Jason’s body swung in the wind. The blood on Jason’s face and clothes was turning from red to brown and the darker the sky became the darker Jason’s blood turned.

Turning his head, Elliot looked through his swelling eyes to the tree branches high above his head. He couldn’t see the colors anymore—they were melting into brown slush. The sun peaked out once, again showing the vibrant colors of the leaves, and disappeared again. A cool autumn wind brushed Elliot’s body and rolled upward into the trees. The branches trembled and swayed, pouring their red leaves down around him. Elliot caught one between his fingers and stared at it. The leaf matched the blood on his fingertips; which was fading and turning brown.

Reminded of the leaves Jason had glued to Elliot’s skin, Elliot reach up to touch his cheek. The leaves were gone, washed away by the creek. Closing his eyes, Elliot erased the colors and the memories from his mind. He didn’t want to remember this place without Jason in it. Autumn would never be the same.