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Authors: Irving Belateche
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he must’ve gotten lost in the fog.”
Lee’s face hardened. “We’re not gonna say anything.”
“If they find the body tomorrow, they’ll question us,” Quincy said. “But if we go to the ranger now, it’s not so suspicious.”
“If we go now, we’ll have to answer a ton of questions,” Lee said, his attention now solely on Quincy. “Let’s just camp tonight, like nothing happened, and go home in the morning.”
“It they find the body tomorrow, they’ll track us down and question us at home.” Quincy was pushing back hard. Of course, I didn’t really know if he was looking for a way to get to the ranger station in peace so he could tell the truth, or if he was negotiating a compromise.
“So what?” Lee said. “We tell them we don’t know anything and didn’t see anything.”
Quincy looked over at me as if he wanted my help. But I didn’t want to negotiate a compromise. A compromise was a cover-up. “You’re not going to back me up if I tell the truth?” I asked him.
He didn’t answer. Instead he looked into the woods in the direction of the Potomac. His eyes betrayed defeat and resignation.
“Quincy, you’re going to back me up, aren’t you?” Had I lost him?
“I don’t know what I saw out there.”
“He admitted he pushed him over!” I blurted out.
“ And he said the guy attacked him!”
“He’s lying.”
Quincy turned from the woods to me. “What did you see? Think about it. It was hard to see anything at all, wasn’t it? That’s the truth. And whatever you did see, it didn’t make sense, did it?”
I knew what he meant—the bizarre texture of the entire incident. Dank, wet, foul, misty—a distorted, creepy nightmare that didn’t quite seem real. And the man’s pallid face. The expression it bore. How was I going to explain any of this to anyone? No doubt Lee’s version, his lie—laying the blame on me—would be straightforward and easy to follow.
I needed Quincy to back me up, but it was becoming clear that he wouldn’t.
Lee seized the momentum. “So it’s a done deal. We keep our mouths shut.” Again, he was focused on Quincy. And so was I.
Quincy stared at me for a couple of beats, resigned, then looked at Lee. “… Okay,” he said, in almost a whisper.
I should’ve stood my ground, but I was fourteen, easily influenced, and trying to shake off a feeling of foreboding, which had returned with a vengeance. The horrific scene from the precipice—part hallucination, part nightmare, and part brutal reality—replayed itself in my head, unwanted. I just wanted to go home and forget about the entire night.
Lee laid down the law: if anyone asked us any questions tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or even a year from now, we’d say we hadn’t seen anything or heard anything. And if no one ever came around to ask questions, we’d never bring it up, ever .
Quincy took it one step further. “We shouldn’t talk to each other again either.”
“About this?” Lee asked, but I knew what Quincy meant.
“About anything. After tonight, we go our separate ways.” Quincy was adamant, as if he was sure this was the way to make the murder go away.
Lee looked taken aback—he’d been in control, exerting his will, but now Quincy was making the rules. “Is that the way you want it?” he said.
Quincy nodded.
Lee didn’t ask me if that was the way I wanted it too.
“Then you got it,” he said, and stormed off into the tent.
“Quincy—” I said, but he cut me off before I could finish. He must’ve thought I was going to try to talk him into going to the ranger station.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he said. “Let’s get through the night and get the hell out of here.”
And that’s what we did. Quincy and I unrolled our sleeping bags, outside the tent, crawled into them, and waited for dawn. We didn’t say a word to each other; we just stared at the crescent moon as it moved through the sky. There was no hint of fog
Lee’s face hardened. “We’re not gonna say anything.”
“If they find the body tomorrow, they’ll question us,” Quincy said. “But if we go to the ranger now, it’s not so suspicious.”
“If we go now, we’ll have to answer a ton of questions,” Lee said, his attention now solely on Quincy. “Let’s just camp tonight, like nothing happened, and go home in the morning.”
“It they find the body tomorrow, they’ll track us down and question us at home.” Quincy was pushing back hard. Of course, I didn’t really know if he was looking for a way to get to the ranger station in peace so he could tell the truth, or if he was negotiating a compromise.
“So what?” Lee said. “We tell them we don’t know anything and didn’t see anything.”
Quincy looked over at me as if he wanted my help. But I didn’t want to negotiate a compromise. A compromise was a cover-up. “You’re not going to back me up if I tell the truth?” I asked him.
He didn’t answer. Instead he looked into the woods in the direction of the Potomac. His eyes betrayed defeat and resignation.
“Quincy, you’re going to back me up, aren’t you?” Had I lost him?
“I don’t know what I saw out there.”
“He admitted he pushed him over!” I blurted out.
“ And he said the guy attacked him!”
“He’s lying.”
Quincy turned from the woods to me. “What did you see? Think about it. It was hard to see anything at all, wasn’t it? That’s the truth. And whatever you did see, it didn’t make sense, did it?”
I knew what he meant—the bizarre texture of the entire incident. Dank, wet, foul, misty—a distorted, creepy nightmare that didn’t quite seem real. And the man’s pallid face. The expression it bore. How was I going to explain any of this to anyone? No doubt Lee’s version, his lie—laying the blame on me—would be straightforward and easy to follow.
I needed Quincy to back me up, but it was becoming clear that he wouldn’t.
Lee seized the momentum. “So it’s a done deal. We keep our mouths shut.” Again, he was focused on Quincy. And so was I.
Quincy stared at me for a couple of beats, resigned, then looked at Lee. “… Okay,” he said, in almost a whisper.
I should’ve stood my ground, but I was fourteen, easily influenced, and trying to shake off a feeling of foreboding, which had returned with a vengeance. The horrific scene from the precipice—part hallucination, part nightmare, and part brutal reality—replayed itself in my head, unwanted. I just wanted to go home and forget about the entire night.
Lee laid down the law: if anyone asked us any questions tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or even a year from now, we’d say we hadn’t seen anything or heard anything. And if no one ever came around to ask questions, we’d never bring it up, ever .
Quincy took it one step further. “We shouldn’t talk to each other again either.”
“About this?” Lee asked, but I knew what Quincy meant.
“About anything. After tonight, we go our separate ways.” Quincy was adamant, as if he was sure this was the way to make the murder go away.
Lee looked taken aback—he’d been in control, exerting his will, but now Quincy was making the rules. “Is that the way you want it?” he said.
Quincy nodded.
Lee didn’t ask me if that was the way I wanted it too.
“Then you got it,” he said, and stormed off into the tent.
“Quincy—” I said, but he cut me off before I could finish. He must’ve thought I was going to try to talk him into going to the ranger station.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he said. “Let’s get through the night and get the hell out of here.”
And that’s what we did. Quincy and I unrolled our sleeping bags, outside the tent, crawled into them, and waited for dawn. We didn’t say a word to each other; we just stared at the crescent moon as it moved through the sky. There was no hint of fog
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