Reflections: Chapter Five.

Five

 

The Wake-Up Call

 

When all was said and done the residents of Leyton Falls had a terrific time at their annual summer festival, there were cake and biscuit stalls, tombola’s, coconut shy’s, apple dunking, teacher dunking, fairground rides, and a variety of other stalls and family games. But all that turned sour at ten minutes to three in the afternoon when six-year-old Elizabeth Ferris’ body was discovered face down in the narrow brook that ran through the town. The brook was four-feet wide and two-feet deep, with a water level governed by the weather, which hadn’t produced rain in almost three weeks, so Elizabeth was found in only two-inches of water

It was assumed she must have tried to retrieve her favourite doll which lay in the brook beside her small lifeless body. Although, beside her small lifeless body wasn’t entirely accurate. The doll, in the guise of a two-foot clown, was in a sitting position on the back of Elizabeth’s neck with its little plastic fingers entangled in her hair. But the school’s principal, Anne Morris, who found Elizabeth, pushed the doll off her and tossed it aside before anyone else saw this. All attempts at resuscitating Elizabeth had failed and the summer festival was cut short by four hours because many were upset by what they had witnessed and had started to leave once Elizabeth’s body had been taken away by paramedics.

 

Mitch Cunningham had suffered from heartburn for most of his adult life, and his pie-tasting duties at the festival had brought on a severe bout, causing him to get through a six-pack of tablets before he managed to fall asleep. But sleep didn’t hang around for long when he was jolted awake by someone kicking tin garbage can around inside his skull. He reached out to switch his alarm off in a bid to quell the noise but inadvertently knocked a second pack of tablets off the bedside cabinet along with his half glass of water and the ringing telephone that actually woke him in the first place.

         ‘Darn it,’ he drawled. ‘This better be a Goddamn murder or I’m gonna shoot somebody.’ He focused on the clock, wasn’t pleased to see it was only seventeen minutes past midnight. ‘ Hello?’ he snapped.

         ‘Don’t you shout at me, Mitch Cunningham,’ yelled Ruby May Debreu, his switch operator. ‘You pay me to sit here and do this job, remember?’

Studying to complete a Batchelor’s degree program in order to get into law school and hopefully one day become a lawyer, Ruby found working the graveyard-shift simply perfect, simply perfect because nothing ever happens in Leyton Falls after dark. Never ever.

         ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry,’ he said, rubbing knuckles on his breastbone. ‘I’m havin’ a bad night right now.’

         ‘Yeah? Well believe me,’ she said. ‘If what old Missus Winkle told me is true, your night’s about to get a whole lot worse, Sheriff.’

         ‘Why, she been on her home-made joo-joo, again? Been seein’ some weird alien things?’

One of Mrs Winkle’s not-so-secret secrets was being the oldest drunk in town; she had a small still in her back yard that Mitch chose to ignore, provided she kept all she made to herself and not poison the townsfolk.

         ‘I wouldn’t know ‘bout no aliens, Sheriff, but I think it’s best if she tells you this story herself.’

         He sighed. ‘Okay, put her through.’

         Mitch heard a click.  

         ‘…eriff? Can you hear me, Sheriff?’

 

Once Ruby had the call transferred, she made one of her own. It rang four times before being picked up.

‘You said to let you know ‘bout any goings-on up at the old Evans place. Well, accordin’ to Missus Winkle there’s plenty of goings-on up there right now, so I’m lettin’ you know.’

‘Go on.’

‘She said there’s a lot of noise and maybe gunfire up there.’

‘And Mitch?’

‘Probably be on his way real soon.’

‘Okay, you did the right thing. And how’s your degree coming along?’

‘It’s just about ready.’

‘Then mail it to me in the next day or two, and like I promised, I’ll guarantee you success.’

‘But−’ was all she managed before the dial-tone stopped her.

 

Again Mitch sighed, his voice sullen. ‘Hello, Dorothy, what in the name of Jehovah are you doin’ up at this hour?’

         ‘Well how the heck in hell am I s’posed get some sleep around here with all that racket from across the street, huh?’

         Sat on the edge of his bed, Mitch placed his warm feet on the cool wooden floor as he held the receiver in one hand and rubbed his stubbled face with the other. ‘Go on, Dorothy,’ he said, somewhat defeated. ‘I’m listenin’.’

         ‘It’s the Ferris’; they’re makin’ a hell of a racket down here. There’s shoutin’, n’ screamin’, and if I ain’t mistook, I think I heard shootin’, too.’

         ‘Now forgive me for askin’ this, Dorothy, but are you sure about that? I mean, are you really sure?’

         ‘Ya mean about the ruckus they’re makin’? Darn right I’m sure. And on a night this hot I like to have my windows open but I had to shut’m to quell the noise, but that didn’t help none neither. And the shootin’?’ she paused.  ‘Well, I think so.’

         ‘And are you aware of what happened yesterday afternoon to Elizabeth Ferris?’

         ‘Of course I am. I was there too, ya know.’

         After flexing and scrunching his toes over the polished grain underfoot, Mitch stood. ‘Okay, Dorothy, you stay in your house and I’ll be over right away. Don’t go out now; just wait for me to get there.’ He hung up.

         Mitch cursed his own choice of career as he pulled a fresh shirt and his uniform from the closet. He picked up the phone to ring his first deputy, Danny Walker.

         ‘Hello?’

         ‘Hey, Dan, it’s me.’

         ‘Mitch?’

         ‘Listen, I’ve had Missus Winkle on the phone sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout a row over at the Ferris’, reckons she can hear them clean across the street.’

         ‘The old Evans place?’

         ‘Yeah, said she heard gunfire over there, too. But she probably heard one of them Howler boys pissin’ ‘bout with that motorcycle o’ theirs. Anyways, I said we’d take a look-see, so be ready in ten.’

         ‘Sure, Mitch.’

         Mitch was certain Mrs Winkle had this whole situation ass backwards, so he decided to grab a quick black coffee and down three more indigestion tablets. He checked his pocket watch before he left to see it was thirty after midnight, five minutes later he pulled up outside his deputy’s house where Dan climbed in.

         ‘Is this some kind of joke, Mitch?’ he said. ‘I mean, the Ferris’? After what happened yesterday?’

         ‘As far as I’m concerned a joke like this is a million and one miles from funny, but I’d rather deal with it being a joke than deal with it being otherwise.’