Swing Low: Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

Okay, so up till now, I've been releasing these chapters as I finish the audio podcast recording of them. What I've learned, is that I will never get this released in time if I keep this up.

I'll keep reading and recording them, but the actual audio recording, for those of you following along that way, are not going to be released at the same frequency as these chapters. This should hopefully allow me to release 3 chapters per week, which has been my unfulfilled goal to this point.If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #14 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Download audio podcast here) (Chapter 13When I started school here in New Tum, my circumstances made an ignominious life impossible. Completely by chance I was facing an apartment full of other boys near my age. They were as different from me as stone is from air. There was no getting around it; I would have to learn to interact with others.These new roommates changed my life. I will forever be grateful to them, or at least to the circumstances that put us together. While I will always be Iddo, the clumsy fat boy who’s scared of his own nose, I now have the seeds of a backbone. Through these boys I learned to be an agent for myself, thus becoming truly independent. I earnestly plead my case to the public. If I can shrug off my former handicaps and opinions, then anyone can. The case of the hangman is wrong, and if you open your hearts, you too will see unethical evil in it. How can we punish someone who is saving the most innocent of lives and raising them in a community of love and family care?“Am I a Believer?” I scoffed at my new roommate. We seemed to be the only two in the apartment with anything in common. Even then and he accused me of being one of those weird religious fanatics. “Are you kidding? Do I look like one of those freaks?”Duy cast his eyes down. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought that—”“You thought what?” My temper was hot, but as usual, it was simmering back down. I felt ridiculous for my forwardness. I didn’t know how to back down completely, though. If I did back down, then he’d know how big of a pushover I truly was. But even as I stood my ground, my knees shook and threatened to buckle. What a sap I was. One word from him and I’d melt into a pitiful lump of flesh.“I just thought,” he said meekly, “that we might have something more in common.”This time shock did buckle my knees. I almost fell, but aimed my rear to plop onto the futon nearest me. My tailbone smacked hard again. Just what I needed. Another thing to make me look ridiculous. “Y-you’re a Be-liever?” I stammered, trying hard not to let my pain miscommunicate some other message via my contorted face. I was suddenly afraid that, if he chose, one word really could magically melt my flesh.“Forget I mentioned it.”Yeah, right! “Uh . . .” My eyes darted from side to side. I needed to escape. But I had nowhere to go. Maybe I could sleep in the hall. No, that might offend him. Then I’d really be in trouble.He sighed. “I take it you’ve never actually met one of us before?”I shook my head.“I’m not going to cast some ridiculous spell on you, I promise. We don’t actually do that sort of thing. Whatever stories you’ve heard, they’re all wrong. I used to believe those same stories until proselytizers came to my town, too.”My mind flashed back to the hangman. He too had rumors circulating about him. They all painted him as some grim killer, reaping the souls of anyone who ventured into the woods. And yes, there was some truth to the myth about the giant, but there was much more to him than the stories depicted.“Would you care to hear me out? I’ll set the stories straight.”“N-no. I’m pretty b-busy right now.” That was a lie. Well, it was a half lie. I was about to find something to make me very busy.“Another time, then?”No! “Sure.” Stupid me. If Believers could brainwash people, then all my new roommate needed was a little time to talk with me. After all, if the hangman stories had some truth to them, there was likely some truth in the stories about Believers. What was I to do?“All right. I’ll look forward to getting to know you better, later,” Duy said with a little hint of meekness.I just nodded and followed my one foot that had already sneaked its way out the door. I nearly tripped on Jhon’s suitcase.As I caught my balance, I pulled my head up, slamming it into Thing Two’s nose. A torrent of profanities filled the hall, and I slid past him as he checked for blood. Once outside I squatted by the side of the building. My heart was thumping as loud as my heavy breathing. My face was red and my mind was drowning in a thick fog of regret. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Thing One squatting next to me. His eyes were calmly trying to read mine.“Gee,” he said to me nonchalantly. “For a fat kid, you don’t sweat much.”I snorted a laugh. “Some good impression I made in there.”“Don’t sweat it. Thing Two had it coming. He’s fine, actually. He picks his nose so much, anyway, that he’s afraid any little bump will start it bleeding again. You probably bruised his finger more than his nose.”“Would you guess that my roommate is a Believer?”“I guess he’s got that look to him,” Thing One replied in his easygoing manner. “Why? Does that bother you?”“Wouldn’t it bother you?”“Engh—I’ve known enough Believers. Would you believe that they don’t really grow horns on their heads?”I laughed. “Of course they wouldn’t. Sure, I’ve heard that before, but even that sounded silly.” But even as I said this, I was remapping my vision of them. I actually had believed it just before now.Thing One reached down and grabbed my arm. For such a tall skinny guy, he was remarkably strong. He nearly lifted me off my feet before I had a chance to push myself up.Once I was back on my own two feet, he gave me a hard but reassuring slap on the back. It reminded me of the burping pat that Midnight had given me back in the woods. “Give your roommate a chance. You’ll see. I doubt he’s half as scary as you imagine.” He gave me a wink, like he knew more than he was letting on about.Then, just like that, Thing One was gone again. The walking bamboo pole of a roommate had really lifted my spirits. But I couldn’t go back inside the apartment just yet. My wounded pride was still too damaged to return and face the mess I’d created. Instead I paced aimlessly, trying to digest everything that happened. I had one roommate who, despite looking just like anyone else, was a Believer; two rich guys; and two clowns, one that I’d mildly wounded, and the other who seemed wiser and friendlier than his years.This all gave me a wonderful idea for my first story to write. What better way to ring in the new school year than with a news article about different people coming together and learning to live with one another? I would interview new students as they were settling into their apartments and get their takes on coping with new roommates. The only problem was, I’d left my pen and notepad in my apartment.Since going back inside was out of the question, I cautiously approached the large main waste bin in the parking lot. The bin had been emptied prior to everyone arriving, but the stained asphalt below still reeked of waste from weeks past. In a haste to clear out space, the last occupants must have overfilled the square container. I found a used notepad that had either been hastily thrown or fallen from the pile, landing on the ground next to the dumpster. Its cover was smeared with something gooey, but it still had three good unused pages, and I ripped them out. Then I tipped the used portion of the notepad into the small but growing pile of waste. All I needed now was something to write with.In the main lobby of the apartment complex, I borrowed a pen that was used for signing contracts or writing maintenance notes. I then made a mental note to carry a pad and pen with me at all times. If I was to be the campus journalist, I must be prepared for any possible articles to write about when the opportunity arose.Walking to the side of the complex, opposite my living space, I passed up on several potential interviewees until I found someone less intimidating than the majority of the people. By unintimidating I mean that he was alone, not busy doing anything, unattractive, and reeking of insecurity. Not much different from me, I realized.I tried to make his acquaintance. He acquiesced to a degree, but when I pressed him for any details on his roommates, he squirmed. His face darkened with anxiety and his eyes seemed to look at everything but me. After stammering for a minute, he hinted at being very busy and had to go. Strike one. Nothing from him.I was a miffed. Was that how I came across to others, also? If I was to get any quality commentary, I would need to interview students with better people skills. I would need to develop those people skills. How else was I to interview someone who intimidated me? What kind of job had I gotten myself into?For the next three hours, I met with students. Boys and girls. Rich and poor. The first hour was difficult, but as I got my questions better organized in my head, the task became easier. Around ten in the evening, I returned to my apartment. What had earlier started out as a fear-filled project had morphed into an exciting study of people. Duy and the two rich boys were getting ready for bed. The two Things were out for the moment.I had little desire to sleep. My mind was spinning with the excitement of the article I was to write. My studies in journalism had taught me that the best stories were written while the fervor of the moment was still fresh and exciting. By midnight I’d finished. I called it “A Kitchen of Souls.”The morning had started out fine. I did oversleep a little. My foot caught in my bedsheet as I stumbled to the door. My roommates were already up and getting ready for the day. All of them, that is, except for Thing Two. Which was fine with me; I wasn’t ready to confront him yet. A quick brush of my teeth, a look in the mirror to remind myself that I still was fat and in need of a haircut, followed by a visit to the toilet. One toilet, six of us to a dorm, and one of the boys had a spray nozzle instead of a jet stream. I would have to remember to either wear shoes to the toilet each time, or come prepared with a mop.On my way out the door, I scraped the burned crust of rice from last night’s rice pot, and sprinkled a little sugar on it before bounding out the door. Not a healthy breakfast, but no diet I knew of could transform my body into the pinnacle of fitness. So, big deal. Besides, I had to drop off my “A Kitchen of Souls” article to the paper before I went to school.My editor hated it—a response I later learned was typical from him. Though, in this case, it might have been true. If I’d stuck it out another couple years in journalism school, I might have learned what this job later taught me. Every article is rubbish. The single biggest difference between a bad article and a good one is the commission I’m able to negotiate with my publisher. So by that standard, this first article of mine was lacking considerably.The reduced commission my articles garnered went into a fund that would be paid out every two weeks. I would have to contribute at least one article per day if I was to make enough money just to survive. Even if I contributed two articles per day, my budget would be lean. Besides, I didn’t think my publisher would be happy if their newest student reporter contributed little to their periodicals. Not only that, but no more morning drops. I would have to have all my articles in by ten the evening before if I hoped to get paid for the next day’s printing.I had just enough time to look at the school’s events board so I could line up a list of possible articles for the coming month. “Don’t forget,” my publisher had reminded me. “You need to predict the future. People don’t want to read so much about what happened yesterday, they want to know what’s happening today.” I scribbled down the activities that were posted and made a mental note to check the computer lab later to see if anything more was posted online.My first classes of the morning were discouraging. Most every student had already been prepped for years in biology and pre-medical classes. I was starting at the dummy end, and the depth of the topics already threatened to drown me. I would be required to spend many hours above the normal workload just to catch up to the beginning.I did have an hour for lunch before my next round of classes. I used the time to eat two bananas and write a rough draft of an article about the first day of classes. Yes, this would be an article about yesterday by the time it got published, but I hadn’t gotten into the swing of things yet. The events board had mentioned some welcoming activities that would be starting tomorrow. Following my afternoon classes, I would need to find and interview somebody about them. I would then prepare a second article to deliver later tonight. Somewhere between or after that, I needed to find time to study and do homework. This was not going to be easy.By ten thirty that night, I’d returned from the publishing house and was nodding over a textbook in the corner of my room. In the background, I heard a toilet flush and the sink run for a minute. The next bob of my head revealed Duy, still drying his hands on his pants. He was looking down, first at my textbook then at me, as if trying to decide something.“You’re new to the medical field, aren’t you?” he ventured with some hesitancy.My heavy eyelids hid my weary discomfort at talking to the Believer. I nodded but figured that the gesture looked little different from the sleepy nod I’d been doing for the last fifteen minutes. “I’ve got some catching up to do.”“What did you study before this?”“Creative writing.” I placed the textbook down, spine up, using the floor as a bookmark. I looked back down at the massive hardback and realized I couldn’t remember a thing I’d just read. With dreamy frustration, I placed my pudgy fingers on the spine and lifted the book off the floor. Its pages clapped together. No sense in saving my place if I just had to read it all over again.“I know this must be hard for you, and maybe I’m not the right person for it.” He hesitated.I lifted my nose out of my own misty thoughts and studied my roommate. What could he be getting at?“I know you aren’t too keen on associating with Believers. Frankly, I don’t blame you, with all the stupid rumors that go around about us.” His shoulders shrugged up, and his eyebrows lifted. “But if you’d like a tutor, I’d be more than willing to help you get caught up.”Thing One’s counsel echoed in the back of my head. “Why would you do that for me?”“It’s part of what I believe. I want to be able to serve my neighbors. As a roommate, you’re kinda the closest neighbor I have. Besides, if we’re going to be living together, I’d rather do so on friendly terms.”I thought for a moment. I might be able to get by without a tutor. But I was so busy, it might help. Or would it just prove to be another distraction, further setting me behind? I’d never studied with anyone else before. How would that even work out? “Okay, just one thing—”Duy tilted his head as if to emphasize his attention.“I don’t have any desire to be converted as a Believer. No proselytizing strings attached, if you get my meaning.”Duy smiled. “It’s a deal. I’ll help tutor you, and you won’t run away each time I come into the room.”I blushed. “I didn’t run away.”Duy smiled and softly punched my arm. “You know what I mean.”The next several weeks found me busier than I’d ever been in my life. I was cranking out two stories per day for the paper, going full time to school, studying and doing homework, then spending an hour with Duy each day as he helped me understand all the things that were still foreign to me. Maybe it was these tutor sessions that did it, or maybe it was my job exerting its ever more powerful influence. I was getting so used to asking questions, especially of him, that when my curiosity got the better of me, I didn’t realize what I was doing until I’d done it.“Do you guys really do magic?”I half expected him to give me a spat of feigned contempt for being an indolent stereotyper. Instead he just cast his eyes down in a contemplative look, neither confirming nor denying. Gently resting his hands on his knees, he brought his gaze up to meet mine. He was just about to answer when Jhon burst through the door.“Party tonight. You two coming?”I had too much studying to do. But could I afford not to go? After all, I was the campus life representative for the paper. My job almost demanded that I be involved.“There’ll be girls,” he added with mock seduction in his voice.I didn’t have time for flirting. Not that I’d be any good at it, anyway. But, “Sure, I’ll go. When?”“Half an hour. What about you, Duy?”Duy was not going to go. What little I’d learned of him so far was that he was a teetotaler. His beliefs demanded it of him. I had little experience, but a college party seemed no place for avoiding vices. As for women, I doubted that he’d ever think of kissing a girl until after he’d been married for five years.The more I learned of Believers, the more I realized that they had strict moral and health rules to follow. There was almost something enviable in the degree of self-control they possessed. Maybe that’s why my eyes flew wide open with surprise when he blurted, “Yeah, that sounds like fun!”I decided not to let him know, but I wanted to study this Believer in a real social setting. Up until then I’d learned that Believers professed to acknowledge the same Christ as most Christians, but they held stricter tenets than the other denominations.I still hadn’t figured out what their special ceremonies were all about. To be honest, I’d learned less about them than I’d hoped. True, I’d grown more comfortable being in the same room with Duy. Maybe that’s how they started working on you.“Way to go,” said Jhon. “Hey Charles, we’re bringing our own Believer!”From another room, I heard Charles reply, “Just don’t let him curse me when I’m talking to the pretties.”Jhon laughed, “You couldn’t pay a pretty nearly enough to talk to you!” He then slapped the hollow-core door in amusement, his head shaking as he left our room.“Could you really put a curse on somebody?” I asked.“I don’t know, maybe.”“So you guys do practice magic?”“Well, not so much magic.” Duy hesitated, almost afraid that I too would scorn him. “It’s more like God’s power, delegated to us. We have to be worthy, and have really good faith. We use it to perform ceremonies and to heal the sick. I’ve heard of cursings but never really known anything about them. It’s not something we generally do.”“So do you have this power?”“Yeah, I guess so.”I slid forward. Weird. I probably should have scooted back from him. But my curiosity was piqued. “Could you show me? Something small, you know, nothing crazy, just—could you make this book float in the air?” I held out my textbook.He shook his head. “I’m sure some could, but it doesn’t really work like that. The power isn’t meant to be used for show. You know, I’m not too comfortable talking about this. I’m going to get ready for the party.”“I didn’t think you would actually go.”“Just because I’m a Believer doesn’t mean I’m dead!”I slunk back. "Sorry, I didn't mean that you were, well, I just sort of thought-""Ah, you're fine Iddo. You're strung up too tight. You need to learn to relax a little.""Yeah, well, no better time than now, right?" I half laughed. "Let's go."The party was everything I’d imagined it to be, meaning that it wasn’t meant for someone like me. Duy and Thing Two paired up and navigated the crowd like they’d done this before. They were instantly popular. Funny, but they were the last two I thought would pair up or be popular. This mostly because Thing Two was not an attractive sort, even if he loved the riotous lifestyle. Alcohol, drugs, sex seemed to all fit into his brand of a good time, though I hadn’t ever seen him participating in any of those. If this truly was his nature, how did Duy’s chaste and abstinent nature complement the party hawk? Maybe Thing Two was using Duy. Even with his good looks, Duy would be little competition among the ladies. Maybe he’d make Thing Two look good by giving the appearance of having already made friends. Like they say, you’ve got to have money to make money—or, in this case, friends.I noticed that though Thing One hadn’t come, there were some remarkable differences between the two roommates. Thing One was still peppy and active, but he seemed smarter or wiser than Thing Two. He wasn’t the type that would be taken by the vices that Thing Two hoped to find. I almost wondered how they got along so well. Maybe one day I’d ask him. I felt like I could talk to him. Thing Two always radiated a macho attitude, and I didn’t think I could have asked him about anything deeper than a raindrop.At least Jhon and Charles didn’t abandon me at the party. We stayed huddled together at the entrance, watching Thing Two make his rounds.“That guy’s got some balls,” Charles stated. We just shook our heads as we watched him put his arm around an insanely attractive girl with silky smooth hair and movie star looks that complimented her movie star motions. All three of us caught ourselves leaning to watch. We righted ourselves without saying a word. But wow! Beautiful would have been too sweet to describe her. I couldn't help but compare her to Midnight. Midnight was beautiful in a common sort of way, a more down to Earth beauty.This girl on the other hand was really working the field. She was dressed to make men drool. I knew she was only a year or two older than me, but her makeup added at least five more years, not to mention five hundred feet of razor-wire fashion fence between us. But Thing Two had no problem scaling those defenses and getting her to smile. To his credit, he didn’t linger, he just winked at her and moved on to the next.“It looks like he’s going to get every hot girl pining over him before the night is over,” Jhon commented.“I’m going to check out the food table,” I said. That seemed like a safe place in this shuffle of bodies. I expected Charles and Jhon to follow, but they didn’t. I wanted to turn around and stay with them, but I’d already committed myself.Loud music drowned out the hum of voices all around. The mingling crowd was like a thick cloud composed of human flesh and I had to squeeze through, rather than around, them. How could anyone even think in a room like this, let alone hold a conversation? At the table I found the condiments already picked clean. Apparently, food was not to be the main draw for this party. I filled a cup with some blue punch, only to find it burning my throat all the way down. I’d never tasted spiked anything. My mother wouldn’t allow it at home. She hadn’t even let my father drink at home. When he did drink, he’d come home tipsy and sometimes angry. I didn’t want to see what I’d turn into if I got drunk. It would probably be newsworthy.I put the cup down and looked around. Charles and Jhon had made their way into a crowd of their own. They’d waited for a good chance to break away from me, and I’d given them a prime opportunity without even knowing. At least that’s the way I saw it. In a room that would have been overcrowded with under twenty people, I was alone competing for space with at least fifty, and more on the way.Though there were several fluid groups of people, most had only one or two main participants with the others flinging in their approvals. None of these active participants had anything interesting to say. Some of them held their group’s attention by expressive gestures, others by the mere beauty of their bodies. Every group I tried to enter, I felt that people were judging me, wondering who I was and why I thought I should even be there.Before I realized what I’d done, I found myself shimming between two people and out the front door. The warm night air felt cool and refreshing compared to the stuffy hive I’d just emerged from. I lingered for a few minutes, attempted to start a conversation with a girl, but quickly lost her and found myself in the company of another guy who felt just as uncomfortable as I did. But I would rather spend the night alone than with somebody like me, so I fibbed a little, told him I was only here for a minute, and that I had other engagements to go to. I then walked back to my apartment.In my empty room, I tried to do homework or write an article recounting my observations at the party. But my social failure scraped bitterly against my chest. I couldn’t feel included there, and I couldn’t keep my mind off it here. Part of me wanted to go back and give it another try, but I’d already told one person that I had another engagement. Would the others know that I’d ditched out, only to crawl back as a pathetic loser? I didn’t know. All I did know was that I was not going back. I’d have to do better next time. I should have observed Thing Two more closely to learn how he mingled. But I was no Thing Two. Even if I emulated his actions, I doubted I could pull it off.I lay down on my bed and tried to sleep. Hours crept by. I must have fallen asleep because one instant I was alone, then, after I blinked, Duy was pulling off his clothes and flopping into his bed.“How was the party?” I asked him.“Ungh,” he grunted.I was surprised to notice that he smelled badly of rum. Did he not realize the punch was spiked? “I thought you didn’t drink?”“Doen judje me. Ye’re aways judjin me, Gaud’s judjin me, eveyone’s judjin me,” he slurred before getting up and tripping to the bathroom. I listened to his pitiful heaving in the other room. He must not have completely emptied his sour stomach, because he didn’t come back into the bedroom. I fell asleep.In the morning, I went to the bathroom to shower. Showering was a luxury I looked forward to. Back home, we just used a bucket of water to clean ourselves with. But these campus apartments had real showers with warm water. Stepping into the bathroom I flicked on the light. I was immediately assaulted by the smell of bile. There was Duy, resting in a crusty pool of vomit that glued his hair to the floor. With a groan of agony, he curled his legs up into a ball at the base of the toilet. He must’ve passed out there last night. I held my breath, afraid the putrid stench would ruin my appetite for breakfast, then I turned the light off. I could wait till evening to shower.In the kitchen Thing One was eating warm rice with a saccharine salt-pickled cabbage. With it was a red, sticky sweet-and-spicy sausage. That happened to be my favorite breakfast food. Being the typically perceptive guy he was, Thing One offered me a full serving of the meal and added, “Poor Duy.” He wasn’t so much sympathizing with Duy as he was with me. “You know it can’t be easy for him.”“What do you mean?”“Did you know that his religion believes in Christian apostles?”“No, but what does that have to do with anything?”“Five years ago, two of their apostles died in America. They came back to life after three days. Some say it was that healing voodoo stuff they did on them. Others claim that they just went into a very deep coma that made detecting their heart rate nearly impossible. Some medications can do that. Whatever the reason, those two apostles woke up and went on as if nothing had happened.”“And your point being?”“Iddo, you really have been living under a rock. Every Christian-based religion interprets scripture differently, but they all have something that tells of this prophecy, and the Believers claimed that this was the fulfillment of it. That two of their apostles or prophets would die in Jerusalem, then come back to life before the Rapture.”“I’ve never heard that. Besides, Jerusalem isn’t in America.”“Some say that a New Jerusalem might be established in America, but that’s not the point. The point is, when that happened, they all thought that Christ would be coming back to Earth. It’s been five years and nothing’s happened. The Believers aren't only ridiculed by everyone not of their religion, but they're finding it increasingly difficult to believe in their own teachings themselves. I’m just saying, be easy on him. I hate to see him stumble from his beliefs. He really is a good guy. We just need to be there for him if he needs us. One of these days, he’ll see his folly, and he might need a friend to help him back up.”I hadn’t noticed it in myself, but Thing One had seen the disappointment in my face. I actually felt disappointed that Duy hadn’t been true to the commitments his faith demanded. “How do you know so much about these Believers?”But in typical Thing One fashion, he just tossed the last piece of meat into his mouth and slapped me once hard on the back. “You’re a good man, Iddo.” Then, grabbing his books, he left the house.Again, that slap on the back brought back memories of Midnight. I pushed the thought away, along with the urge to burp. Nobody had ever called me a man before, let alone a good man. I felt inadequate for the title, but I wanted to be that man. Of everyone I’d met so far in my life, I wanted to be like Thing One. Then it hit me. One of these days, I should learn his real name.Click here to read Chapter 14Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.