pain in my neck. The muscles at my right shoulder blade tensed up, so I tried stretching my arms forward to loosen them. What a big mistake. The twinge in my neck shot up and into the back of my head, and left my entire scalp throbbing and tingling.
I rose with difficulty from the bed to stagger towards the bathroom, where I could find more ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet. No doubt about it, this place made me feel old before my time. If (and that was still a big
IF
at this point) I ever came back here again, I decided that I would stay in a hotel – or actually a bed and breakfast, since there were no hotels within twenty miles of this place.
Tiptoeing down the hall, debating just how many ibuprofen I could take without overdosing, I heard a muffled clamor break through the stillness outside. It was a racket I recognized from my childhood. The sound of trashcans falling over.
Woods and fields surrounded most of Brickerton, so there were a lot of wild animals that wandered into town, especially at night. Mom had even seen a bear meander into our back yard from across the railroad tracks one late morning when Lil and I were at school, and our neighbor had confirmed the sighting. That caused a mad hunt and bear relocation effort within the community for the safety of the area's citizens.
Since the bear crossed back over the tracks, it was surmised that it headed towards the high school woods, which were not far beyond. It was my freshman year, and I remembered the strange evacuation of the school building in order to get the students safely home. Many of us were ushered out a few at a time as our parents, relatives or neighbors drove their vehicles up to the school's double doors. Others were herded into buses. Going home had been a long slow process that day, but it had also been the most exciting event of my entire life up to that point.
Knowing that the trashcans were stored on a platform below Lil's old room, I crept in there to have a look. Climbing up onto the bed that was pushed up against the room's one window, I arched my neck as much as the pain would allow, and looked down at the cans below. (Mental note, Lil's bed felt softer than mine. Why the hell hadn't I thought to try sleeping in here?)
The trashcans were overturned, but I couldn't see much beyond that in the dark. I scanned the yard, expecting to see shadows or maybe the beady glowing eyes of raccoons. What I witnessed instead was the furtive outline of someone running into the darkness of the thicket.
A person traipsing through my parent's backyard wasn't necessarily unusual. My dad never put a fence up around the property, and so it made easy access. For years, it had been used as a shortcut for teenagers who were late for school. I even traversed the well-worn path through the thicket and over the tracks to get to first period class most mornings (Yes, I was often tardy, myself. Another bad habit of mine.).
Still, a small town like this was asleep at three in the morning. People didn't run around these hours of the night. More importantly, the trashcans were not in the path of the short cut. A person would have to go out of his way to knock them over. Perhaps the neighborhood had a human scavenger?
Contemplating the details of what might have happened began to exhaust me. So, I leaned back on the pillow and felt myself sink into the bed. Should have known that Lil would have the better mattress. The aches didn't exactly go away, my muscles were already a mess, but the pain seemed easier to deal with. I felt my body slacken.
The sun was streaming in through the window before I realized I had fallen asleep. My toes were numb within my socks and my limbs were cold because I hadn't even taken the time to slip under the blankets before I dozed off.
I tested my back and neck muscles as I got up. They were stiff, but they definitely hadn't gotten any worse. Some more ibuprofen and a long hot shower might get me through the day. Either way, I would be
I rose with difficulty from the bed to stagger towards the bathroom, where I could find more ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet. No doubt about it, this place made me feel old before my time. If (and that was still a big
IF
at this point) I ever came back here again, I decided that I would stay in a hotel – or actually a bed and breakfast, since there were no hotels within twenty miles of this place.
Tiptoeing down the hall, debating just how many ibuprofen I could take without overdosing, I heard a muffled clamor break through the stillness outside. It was a racket I recognized from my childhood. The sound of trashcans falling over.
Woods and fields surrounded most of Brickerton, so there were a lot of wild animals that wandered into town, especially at night. Mom had even seen a bear meander into our back yard from across the railroad tracks one late morning when Lil and I were at school, and our neighbor had confirmed the sighting. That caused a mad hunt and bear relocation effort within the community for the safety of the area's citizens.
Since the bear crossed back over the tracks, it was surmised that it headed towards the high school woods, which were not far beyond. It was my freshman year, and I remembered the strange evacuation of the school building in order to get the students safely home. Many of us were ushered out a few at a time as our parents, relatives or neighbors drove their vehicles up to the school's double doors. Others were herded into buses. Going home had been a long slow process that day, but it had also been the most exciting event of my entire life up to that point.
Knowing that the trashcans were stored on a platform below Lil's old room, I crept in there to have a look. Climbing up onto the bed that was pushed up against the room's one window, I arched my neck as much as the pain would allow, and looked down at the cans below. (Mental note, Lil's bed felt softer than mine. Why the hell hadn't I thought to try sleeping in here?)
The trashcans were overturned, but I couldn't see much beyond that in the dark. I scanned the yard, expecting to see shadows or maybe the beady glowing eyes of raccoons. What I witnessed instead was the furtive outline of someone running into the darkness of the thicket.
A person traipsing through my parent's backyard wasn't necessarily unusual. My dad never put a fence up around the property, and so it made easy access. For years, it had been used as a shortcut for teenagers who were late for school. I even traversed the well-worn path through the thicket and over the tracks to get to first period class most mornings (Yes, I was often tardy, myself. Another bad habit of mine.).
Still, a small town like this was asleep at three in the morning. People didn't run around these hours of the night. More importantly, the trashcans were not in the path of the short cut. A person would have to go out of his way to knock them over. Perhaps the neighborhood had a human scavenger?
Contemplating the details of what might have happened began to exhaust me. So, I leaned back on the pillow and felt myself sink into the bed. Should have known that Lil would have the better mattress. The aches didn't exactly go away, my muscles were already a mess, but the pain seemed easier to deal with. I felt my body slacken.
The sun was streaming in through the window before I realized I had fallen asleep. My toes were numb within my socks and my limbs were cold because I hadn't even taken the time to slip under the blankets before I dozed off.
I tested my back and neck muscles as I got up. They were stiff, but they definitely hadn't gotten any worse. Some more ibuprofen and a long hot shower might get me through the day. Either way, I would be
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