“Why,” asked Frank.
“Because it’s got to be done,” replied Dacoda.
Jeffery’s blue eyes stabbed back at Dacoda’s glare, “Who the hell cares about this shit? Not me!”
Dacoda’s patience was ready to snap like a five-pound fishing line trying to hold onto a shark! He shoulda known better than ask these two for help, he thought.
“Are you sure it’s even worth going out there,” Jeffrey asked with a tone that made Dacoda bristle.
Dacoda was fed up. The tires of his truck growled to a stop on the loose gravel road.
“Alright, you two, I‘ve had about enough of your bellyachin’!! Get out of my truck, right now, if you don’t want to do it and I’ll find two other fellas to help me!”
The silence reverberated throughout the cab of the truck.
Frank silently opened and closed his mouth a few times. Jeffery’s ears were redder than a wasp and his jaw was firmly clenched but he didn’t utter a word.
After a few minutes, Dacoda turned his older model truck down a familiar road. He pulled the truck over at the head of a walking trail into the woods. As dusk settled in, the three men started down the path silently. In fact, one might imagine no living creature lived in these woods because nothing made a sound. No wind. No birds. No small animals. Nothing. Still, the men trudged on, further and further. The dark night seemed to seep into their very souls!
A light. Somehow a light had found the cracks and corners of the dark, threading its way to the three men. Frank noticed it first but dared not speak lest he scare it away. He pointed at a small table with an old oil lamp defiantly fighting back against the moonless night. No one seemed to be around.
Dacoda stopped at the edge of the small clearing and stared for a moment. This isn’t right, he thought. Where was the-
Suddenly, there was a rush of motion all around him. As Dacoda tried to turn and run, he felt the hands of the two men he’d brought along grab his arms.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?”
Everything went to black. It took Dacoda a few seconds to realize it wasn’t the lantern going out that caused the sudden darkness. He struggled to breathe under the heavy material covering his head.
The two men guided Dacoda farther into the woods. He only knew the direction they were going because they hadn’t made any turns as they walked.
For a moment, Dacoda coulda sworn he heard whispers in the trees around him. Or, it mighta been the wind, he thought. What the hell is going on, he asked himself, again. Silence was the only reply, just as before.
Without warning, the two men guiding him stopped. They pulled Dacoda back like he’d almost stepped in a bear trap. Dacoda had an impression, blind as he was under whatever was covering his face, that there were more people around him.
Dacoda stood stock still. He knew people thought he wasn’t a likable fella. But, he didn’t believe people hated him enough to bring him into the middle of the woods to…what? Dacoda didn’t want to think of what that “what” might be. He had been a bully and a drunk since his childhood because his father had been a bully and a drunk.
So, Dacoda thought, there might be a few people around Tavern, Kentucky that would have loved to see how scared he was, at that moment. Maybe they are seeing me, he mused silently. Maybe some of them were in the crowd huddling closer and closer to him.
Dacoda could feel their hot breath. He could taste their sweat in the air. He could hear the echoing thunder of their heartbeats.
“If you’re goin’ to kill me, I wish you’d hurry the hell up,” he said, defiantly.
In a sobering epiphany, Dacoda realized he was truly afraid of death. He hadn’t ever thought about it before now but, suddenly, that realization was his only thought!
His instincts told him to break loose and run but he couldn’t move. Not that Frank and Jeffrey were holding him very tightly but because his muscles seemed locked in place.
Again, Dacoda asked, “What the hell is goin’ on?”
There were a few sinister chuckles among those gathered around him.
“What the hell…,” he silently asked.
He felt a hand, not Jeffrey’s or Frank’s, softly grip the cover over his head. However, it pulled away as Dacoda started yelling.
“No! Please! I’m sorry! I know I’m a hateful bastard but don’t kill me! I can change! I’m gonna change! Starting, right now,” he choked out. Dacoda’s sobs must have been satisfying to those around.
Again, the hand gently gripped the cover over his face. With a quick motion, the covering was gone and,in its place, a glaring light caused Dacoda’s eyes to slam shut. He waited for someone to hit, stab, or shoot him.
He waited.
Nothing.
He slowly opened one of his eyes, half expecting to be staring down the barrel of a double barrel shotgun.
Nothing.
Dacoda hesitantly opened the other eye.
There was nothing and no one.
For a second, Dacoda thought he had been taken deep into the woods and left to find his own way. Just as his nerves started to settle…
“SURPRISE,” the forty or fifty people hollered as they jumped out of their hiding places.
“What the hell?!?!”
Dacoda never knew about his surprise birthday party because his heart gave out as he fell to the ground.
