On Emma's Bluff - Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada (best ereader for academics .txt) 📗

"Well you might want to take the smaller boat too, that way everyone can go out at the same time instead of making two trips," Uncle Roy offered. "I am sure these fellows won’t mind helping me get em ready for you."   That was all it took. Roy and his entourage were on their way toward the river. "Please Lord, don't let my Uncle Roy run into Cindy's little party," was all Emma could think.

But when Emma looked back, there still beside her was Bill. His arm just lightly brushed hers. “I am so glad that you and Joy could make it." Emma was afraid her voice gave her lie away.

"Oh, it is just me here tonight." His hand came up to rest on her shoulder, his thumb lightly rubbing her throat.   " I hope you don't mind?"

"Oh, no, I don't mind." She pulled away. "Just remember, you're attached."

"No, no, no, not anymore it seems." His eyebrows went up and Emma could only smile. "We've decided to date other people for a while." Emma hoped that she was not smiling too much, because she sure felt like she was a grinning idiot.

"Well, in that case," she stepped closer, " you wouldn't mind helping me carry this trash back in the house."   She caught him off guard as she swung the plastic trash bag at him. She heard him laughing as she walked away.

Emma was glad that her uncle had left them to attend to the boats themselves. They loaded the guests into the two crafts amid giggles and splashing. It was getting chilly and some of the girls had wrapped themselves in blankets. Em was in charge of the bigger boat. Sammy Slater stood beside her shining the high beam spotlight across the water.   Angela was tucked safely under his arm. Some of the girls refused to wear life preservers, not wanting to look unattractive in the bulky orange vests. Cindy persuaded them to at least just hold the vests in their laps.

"Like maybe we can spotlight some deer. Poweee." Sammy mimicked a gun shot sound.

"That's illegal and you know it," Emma told him.

They were pulling out from the pier when Emma heard someone yell, "Hey, make room for me." She did not have to look to know who had spoken. Bill stretched his long legs into the boat and headed for Emma. He sat down in the seat right beneath her legs. From behind them someone called from the other boat.

"Hey, did anyone bring any extra refreshments."

"Yeah man," came the answer back. Emma saw at least one six pack held together by plastic rings be hoisted to the second boat.

"Oh shit," Emma moaned.

“Hey, its cool." Bill patted her knee. "They know how to behave themselves. Relax, Em, enjoy the ride." He leaned back against her legs wrapping one large hand around her left ankle.

"Watch it Simmons, I am likely to run us into a stump it you start that." But she did not remove his hand, nor did she move her ankle. From in front Cindy turned to wink at her friend.

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Angela Guthrie was in a terrible mood. She had been excited when her best friend, Joy, had phoned about the party. They had both been going steady with the same boys since ninth grade. They had been friends three times that long. Angela knew that Joy and Bill went "all the way". Joy had told her about it the day following the first time. Angela had given in to Sammy the following month. Neither of the girls used contraceptives, but both consulted each other regularly about their cycles.   Always relieved when their periods came.

Angela was furious when Joy told her that Bill had stated flatly that he was going to this party and that he couldn't keep Joy from going, but if she did it would not be as his date. He had said that no girl was going to start making his Saturday night plans for him. "That pig," Angela thought. Joy, hurt, refused to go at all, stating that she would feel like a fool with Bill ignoring her all evening. Angela had wanted to back out of going then, but Sammy was all up for going out on the boat. So he had talked her back into it. Besides she figured if she was there she could keep an eye on Bill for Joy.

"And just look at Bill," she seethed. Angela could tell that he had been putting moves on that Emma Lewis all evening. It made her so mad she wanted to go home. But she owed it to Joy to watch this and report back.

The second boat had pulled in front of Emma's boat and after about twenty minutes she saw them ground into a sand bar on the left bank.   She pulled the bigger boat up and glided likewise into the sand.

"Time for a picnic," one of the boys bellowed. Emma saw several of her friends taking six packs and lowering them into the waters from fish stringers. There was like an instant organization afoot as people gathered dried cypress for a fire.

"And I thought this was my party," she laughed looking down at Bill. He stood and took her hand to help her from the boat. But he pulled her a little closer than necessary once they reached the bank. She heard him draw in his breath, fast between his teeth.

"Too bad that it's not just you and me."   She fidgeted away.

"It is still me responsibility to see that these guys don't get us all into trouble. I guess there is no need to worry over a little beer.   I should go help with the bon fire." With this said Emma left to go find Cindy.

In half an hour the fire was going strong. They were on the same side of the river as her house. Back up the bank about a quarter of a mile was the dirt service road that passed her home. Emma felt safe knowing she was close to the house.

She had been avoiding Bill every since they had come ashore, mostly because she just felt awkward and inexperienced and she was sure it showed. If he kept up such a hot pursuit of her she was certain she would end up babbling in his arms. But now here he was settling on the blanket next to her. His fingers picked up the ends of her hair.

"Emma." She could hear each breath he took. Taking her shoulders and turning her toward him, he spoke again, "I really want to kiss you."  

She couldn't move. Her mouth felt frozen in a line as she finally said, " I know." His eyebrows arched into a question, "may I?"   And then she was kissing him. It happened before she knew it.

"You scum!" Sand was kicked at them. Standing slightly off balance above them was Angela Guthrie.

"You scum," she repeated with another kick.

"Hey, Angela." Bill rose to face her just as Sammy grabbed her from behind.

"Get your fucking hands off me," She shrieked.

"Hey, now, you're drunk." Sammy was trying to haul her away from the crowd.

“Only because you made me come here to watch this scumbag make a fool of my best friend." She shook off his hands and ran toward the trees.

"You just wait Bill Simmons, Joy is going to know all about this, you just wait," she wailed.

It was not so much Angela's words as it was Bill's expression that made Emma feel sick.

"Bill?" Emma touched his arm.

"No, no, I shouldn't have done that."

Emma just stared at the now changed Bill Simmons beside her.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry," she replied all expression bled from her face. "Let's go," she said to no one in particular.

"What about Angela and Sammy?" someone asked.

"They can walk back," Emma answered.

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Emma had slept very poorly. She had let the other girls share her bed while she had slept in the spare room. The house was quiet as she got up and walked into her room where her two friends buzzed soft snores from her bed. She crept to the window as she did every morning to check the sky. The low slung clouds hinted of showers. But what caught her eye was the red pickup parked up the road. It was Sammy Slater's. She remembered seeing it parked there the night before. All of the previous evening's unpleasantness returned as she wondered about the significance of the un-moved truck.

Emma reluctantly got dressed to go out and find out the cause. Perhaps the truck wouldn't start. Or perhaps they had fallen asleep in the front cab. If so she should wake them up and send them home before there was trouble.

She was out of the house ten minutes later. Before she was all the way to it, she knew it was empty. The door facing the river was open and she could see inside. Emma closed the door and kept walking. Surely they couldn't have gotten lost on the way back. Emma figured it was best to stick to the service road until she got to the trestle. If she hadn't found them by then she would have to venture down the bank path.

Despite the clouds, the sun was coming through fiercely in patches. Her fast pace brought a light sweat to her upper lip. She wiped it off on her sleeve. A lot of cotton had already been picked and the brown skeletal remains of the bushes rustled in the occasional breeze. Her mind stumbled through a dozen various explanations as she kept to the road's ruts.

Emma had just rounded the bend to the train tracks when she spotted, hanging from the low branches of a cypress, some sort of suspended bag. She had seen such bags hung from trees before.   In their deer camps if a hunter shot a deer and it was too far to carry the animal out, the hunter would slaughter the deer, place it in a tarp and suspend it in the trees till he could get back for it.

She neared the bundle slowly. It was dirty, stained a dark brown. From the bottom a string of dark ooze hung. Em walked right up to the bundle. Reaching up her hand she felt the strong weight of its contents. She recoiled one step back. The heavy pouch swung. Emma heard the snap of the tree limb. She was just able to stumble out from under the sack as it hit the road. She saw the arm first and then the head and the bare chest.

The nude form of Angela Guthrie looked as though it had been sitting cross-legged in the lap of Sammy Slater. The hands had been severed from the wrists. The meat from the girl's hips had been flayed and laid back from the bone. A raw spinal cord extended from her back.   Sammy's head had been removed and lay between the two bodies. Emma did not look back as she ran.

Mary Elizabeth Lewis Wilson had been born about fourteen miles from where she presently lived. Her father had once owned a few hundred acres which he fruitlessly toiled over trying to make a living.   By 1949 when she was still in high school, her father had finally given up