What We Saw (12 page)

The three of us walked deeper into the woods. The treetops swallowed the sky above as Donald’s heavy feet stomped against the ground.
How could two feet make so much noise?
I wish he’d say something.
Anything.
He was quiet and not even making small talk or telling us stories of something strange he’d come across. It wasn’t like Donald. But still, he marched on with a smile on his face, proud.

After what seemed like hours of walking, Donald stopped and looked up at the trees and at the ground, as if he were trying to orientate himself with his surroundings. He turned to face Adam and me and put his hands on his hips. ‘We’re here.’

I felt a rock sink to the bottom of my stomach as I looked around for some sort of grave he’d dug for the two of us, some hole in the ground he was about to kick us into. But there was nothing. Just trees and fallen twigs. ‘Where’s ‘here’ exactly?’ My voice sounded crackly.

Donald’s smile grew when he heard my voice. He looked like a kid at the candy floss stall. ‘Here, my boys, is a very special place to me.’

Adam had his hands in his hoodie pockets, looking around at the trees. He looked over his shoulder and back down the path we’d come down. ‘It’s just the path, Donald,’ he said. I wondered if Adam was still nervous. My hands began to burn as I dangled them at my sides.

Donald laughed and looked towards the ground, kicking at the snapped branches at his feet. ‘Oh I know it’s the path, clever clogs. But it’s not just the path. It’s a very special part of the woods to me.’

I waited for his walking stick to meet my skull and wondered how hard I’d be to drag into a ditch. I was lanky, so it wouldn’t be too difficult. The soil wouldn’t have much of a struggle crushing me. There would be nothing left of me to find.

‘How come?’ I asked. My mind raced with thoughts. I needed to know what was going on.

Donald stared into space, to his left, looking up and down, into the woods. He didn’t seem like a man who was about to kill someone. Not in the films I’d seen, anyway. ‘It just… it means a lot to me.’

I realised he wasn’t staring into the woods, directionless, but actually looking at the tree next to us. It stood tall above the other trees, and its skinny branch reached across the top of us like an arm. It was quite bare, which made me wonder if it was dying.

Donald spent a few more minutes staring at the tree, his eyes rolling up and down the trunk. I spotted a smile break across his face before vanishing. He blinked and shook his head from side to side. It was as if he wasn’t sure which face to pull. I remembered his eyes that day, burying the girl, the venom behind them. It was hard to believe that this was the same person, getting emotional over a tree.

I looked at Adam, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, sticking his bottom lip out. We didn’t want to speak or break the silence. We were wary of Donald. We couldn’t let our guard down for a moment. I felt my hands burn even warmer.
I wish he’d hurry up and tell us what’s going on.
The longer he stared at the tree, admiring it and chuckling to himself, the more my mind spun about what he was doing out here. My heartbeat had raced earlier; now, it knocked gently at my ribcage, baffled by the weirdness of the situation. I took this opportunity to take a few deep breaths to prepare myself in case I did have to run. Better to be safe.

Then, as if he were awakening from a deep sleep, Donald raised his eyebrows, shook his head, and looked right towards us. ‘Sorry, boys. It’s—I got a little carried away there. Just strange being here, sharing this place with someone else.’

I didn’t say anything. I waited for him to carry on. I figured Adam was doing the same, his hands in his pockets. I noticed the hole in his ear; he must have been nervous before we left. He rarely ever sneaked out without putting his ear-stud in beforehand.

‘I guess this seems pretty weird, eh? Sorry, sorry. I should, erm—I should explain. You guys will probably want to know what you’re doing out here, but have a little faith. I promise it’ll be worth it when we’ve dug it up.’

My heart raced again with the words ‘dug up.’ Donald hadn’t buried another body somewhere, had he? Or perhaps he was planning to dig up a nice hole in the ground for us before sending us to sleep with the worms and the soil and the dead animal bits filling our lungs. My palms began to sweat. I felt myself breathing faster, getting myself worked up. Heat invaded my cheeks.

‘You okay, Liam?’ Donald asked. ‘You look a bit out of sorts. Want some water?’ He pulled a blue metallic flask out of the side pocket of his green rucksack and gestured it in my direction. I flinched as he waved it at me, his eyes puzzled.
Shit.
I couldn’t lose my cool now. I couldn’t let him realise we were on to him. I shook my head, taking a deep breath and looking at the ground. I noticed Adam turn towards me, his eyes stern. I could tell he was begging me not to freak out.

I raised my head and let my shoulders fall to my side. ‘No thanks, I’m fine.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Donald said, returning the water to his rucksack. He looked away from me, slowly. I didn’t wait to risk anything. He could have tampered with the water, or it might not even have been water in the flask after all. We couldn’t get careless, not now.

‘Well, this is the spot. I’ll get digging.’ He walked towards the tree, stroking the bark up and down a few times, before crouching to his knees. This would be a perfect chance to capture him and tie him up. Force him to answer questions. But I was more transfixed by what it was he had buried underneath this tree. We looked on.

I expected Donald to pull a spade out of his large rucksack, so I was surprised to see him digging up the earth with his bare hands. That was a hell of a lot of digging to do if he was to bury us or even dig someone else up. Adam stared on, twiddling his fingers against his thumbs.

‘What sorta thing you digging up, Donald?’ Adam asked, pacing from side to side like a police interrogator. A fair question. Not too revealing.

Donald carried on, although I saw a smile peek from the side of his face. ‘You’ll see. It’s nothing too exciting in itself—well, to me it’s pretty beautiful. You’ll probably appreciate it.’

We stood watching Donald dig for what must have been several minutes. I offered to give him a hand, but he put his arm in the way, gently pushing me back onto the pavement. I flinched as he reached for me. He looked back and frowned. I was giving too much away.

‘This is something I need to do,’ he said. ‘Only I know what I’m looking for.’

‘Well why have you brought us out here then?’ Adam asked. I could sense the impatience in his voice.

Donald didn’t respond to Adam. Instead, he smiled some more. It didn’t take long before he pulled an old sock out of the ground. Weird. He must not have expected that to get in the way of his digging.

Things got even more curious, however, when Donald stopped digging and examined the sock. He curled it in his hands and tapped it against his chest, twice. It looked like something was in the sock, adding a bit of weight to it.
Is it full of dirt? If it is, why is Donald being so weird around it?

‘It’s a sock,’ Adam said.

Donald stood up and turned to us. The sock was black with green lines around the toe area. He held it in one hand, debating what to do with the other hand, before holding it out in front of him and turning the sock upside-down. My heart fluttered again when I realised that this might all be part of some elaborate set up. Donald might have been here earlier and planted a knife or a gun. Maybe he was using this sock to make us feel comfortable before ramming dirty steel into the side of our necks. We were too deep in the woods to be found. No one would hear us if we screamed for help.

A knife didn’t fall from the sock. Neither did a gun or anything that could be used to hurt anyone. Instead, along with dirt and what looked like a crushed woodlouse, a small circular piece of metal slipped out. Donald held it out in front of him in between his finger and thumb, turning it like a model on the catwalk. It was a ring: a little dirty, but golden underneath. Donald smiled and inspected it from all angles. It was as if he had been reunited with an old friend.

‘Ah, she still looks the same as she did back then,’ Donald said.

The hairs on my arm tingled. I looked at Adam, who shrugged, wide-eyed and in a slumped stance. ‘Whose ring is it, Donald?’ I asked.

Donald continued to inspect the ring as if he were looking for something. I wondered if he’d heard what I said properly, so I coughed. Zoning out was becoming an annoying tendency of Donald’s. He looked through the ring, towards me, and put the ring back into the sock, not bothering to polish it off or give it a clean.

‘Someone I once knew,’ he said. ‘I like to keep it here because it keeps her alive in a sense. She loves this place. And she’d want to be here, buried here. At least that way I’m sure she’s still living through this place.’

I felt lost for words more than ever. I wanted my dad. He used to be good at talking his way out of situations like this. My mouth felt dry as warm tears grew behind my eyelids.

I remembered Granddad’s embrace with Donald. Donald’s eyes after he’d buried the girl. Who was she? That was a question we’d never thought to ask. We were so obsessed with figuring out whether Donald was a killer, getting overwhelmed by our own murder mystery, that we hadn’t even began to wonder who the girl was.
Why was Donald burying her?
What was the secret surrounding her, and did this ring have anything to do with it?

‘Who was she?’ Adam asked. I did a double take and my heart jumped, thinking he was echoing my thoughts about the dead girl, but I soon realised he was referring to the person Donald spoke of. Someone he knew a long time ago.

Donald crouched down again and began to bury the sock, even more dirt wedging between his fingernails.

‘Ah, well, some things aren’t for everyone’s ears, Adam,’ he said, his smile eroding. I could see redness in his eyes as he stood up and brushed his hands together.

‘Why did you bring us out here, then?’

Donald looked towards the sky. ‘It’s getting dark soon, so I should probably be getting you boys back. I wanted to share something with you. Some things you see don’t need explaining. Not everything has a reason. Just remember that. It could keep you out of a lot of trouble in life.’

*

Nobody said anything on the walk back. The woods were almost pitch black as we walked through them. It felt like the middle of the night in there even though it was only evening. I kept turning to Adam, checking he was still close. Donald led the way.

As the exit grew closer, Donald stopped and looked at his watch.

‘You alright, Donald?’ Adam asked, slowing down behind him.

‘Yeah. You boys run along, if that’s alright? I’ve got something to see to.’ He looked up and scanned the trees.

I turned to Adam, who shrugged and looked back at Donald.

‘Okay… well, we’ll head off,’ I said, as I began to walk away from Donald.

‘What have you got to do?’ Adam asked.

Donald rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ve got to see to something. Run along now.’

He winked. Adam and I crept off and began to run.

As we reached the exit of the woods, Adam stopped. ‘Liam, wait.’

I stopped running too and looked up at the dimming sky. Lights flickered on in nearby caravans. ‘But Gran and Granddad said not to be late.’

‘I know, and we’re not that late. But seriously, what the fuck was all that about?’ he asked. He started walking, slowly.

‘I dunno where to start,’ I said. ‘The ring? Who is the ‘she’ he was on about?’

Adam bit his nails. ‘It has to be the dead girl.’

I let the scenario run through my head as we walked down past Emily’s caravan. ‘But something doesn’t make sense,’ I said. ‘He was weird about it all. Like he cared.’

Adam coughed and let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. ‘Liam, in case you haven’t noticed, he is weird.’

I shrugged. ‘Maybe. But it’s strange. First, the whole Carla thing. Then this. It doesn’t add up. Why would he steal Carla to look all heroic and then show us this ring?’

Adam curled his eyebrows. ‘I don’t see what you’re getting at.’

‘Well, it seemed like he was showing us a secret in there, but not like a warning. I don’t think he knows we’re onto him, Adam. Or if he does… he’s trying to show us something.’

I heard shouting behind us and stopped in my tracks. I turned round and saw Emily’s dad leaving his caravan. He talked on the phone to someone and waved his finger around. ‘If you can’t keep a secret, that’s your problem,’ he shouted. ‘I’m not going to get done for your mess, and it is your mess.’

He pulled the phone away from his ear, rubbed his face, and walked up towards the woods.

I turned to Adam, who watched with his mouth slightly ajar.

‘I think we need to have another think about things,’ I said.

Chapter Fifteen

Later, as I lay in bed, Donald’s final words rung in my ears like a church bell in the morning.
‘It could keep you out of trouble.’
Was he trying to warn us?

And Emily’s dad, on the phone.
‘It’s your mess.’
Something wasn’t right.

We went to bed that night knowing that we weren’t going to be getting much sleep. The rain plunked against the roof of the caravan, which didn’t help, but we were up for reasons much more serious than the weather.

Adam had his notepad out, the light above him just about illuminating his writing. He paused and put the pen in his mouth, as if he was trying to piece a jigsaw puzzle together.

‘Done,’ Adam said. He folded his arms and jumped back into his bed.

‘What d’you mean ‘done?’’

‘I’ve done. Finished a list of all the strange things. Everything Donald’s done that has been strange.’ He passed the book over to me. He had listed and bullet pointed everything from the beginning, when Carla went missing, right through to Donald’s revelation of the ring in the woods. Carla’s initial disappearance seemed so long ago. I felt like my brain had been moving at the speed of a train, unable to process everything at once. All of the sections had little notes next to them including areas for speculation, such as whether Donald kidnapped Carla from the beginning, or came across her and held her for a few days after we’d seen him in the woods. But the section with the ring had a big, bold question mark, the white of the paper shining underneath the scribbled black ink.