She kicked her legs back and forth, enjoying the feel of the cool water on her bare feet. I came on this trip to get away from hassles, she thought, to just enjoy a quiet weekend in the woods. She didn’t need this crap from Shelly. He wouldn’t be such a bad guy, she thought, if he would just relax and stop trying to show off and impress people, if he would just be himself. Why couldn’t he just . . .
Something grabbed hold of her leg.
She gasped, lurching forward, almost falling off the dock into the lake as a hand sticking up out of the water clutched her around the ankle, trying to pull her down. She screamed, and clung to the dock with all her might, kicking with her leg, trying to wrench herself loose, but she felt herself slipping . . . and suddenly the hand let go.
As she scrambled panic-striken back onto the dock, looking fearfully down into the water, a large figure in a black wet suit broke the surface of the water with a loud cry, brandishing a spear gun and wearing a white plastic hockey mask. Shelly pushed the mask back on his head and grinned at her.
“You’ve just learned a valuable lesson,” he said as she stared at him with stunned disbelief. “A beautiful girl like you should never go out in the dark alone.”
“Damn it, Shelly!”
She came at him furiously, meaning to strike him. But seeing the expression on her face, Shelly quickly backed away.
“Why do you do these stupid things,” she said, in exasperation.
“I have to,” he replied defensively, raising his arms slightly as if to ward off a blow.
“No, you don’t have to,” she said, making a face at him and mimicking his tone.
“I just want you to like me,” Shelly said dejectedly, avoiding her gaze and looking like a dog that had been kicked.
“I do like you,” said Vera, with exasperation. “But not when you act like a jerk.”
“Being a jerk is better than being a nothing,” Shelly said, in a small voice.
“I never said you were nothing,” Vera protested.
“You don’t have to say it,” he said miserably. “I can tell.”
“You’re wrong,” she said. “Shelly . . .”
He hung his head and walked away, looking like a big black seal in his wet suit. She sighed, shaking her head. God, he was truly hopeless, she thought. He acted like an insecure twelve-year-old who would do anything for attention. Like the boys who used to chase her all the time when she was a little girl. The teased her, pulled her hair, and acted like utter idiots around her because it was the only way they knew how to show they liked her. He was making her crazy. She went back to the end of the dock and sat down again, staring out at the lake and wondering if she was going to survive this weekend.
Shelly sat down on the porch swing and stared down at the dock, where Vera was sitting with her back to him. He felt like a jerk. She’s right, he thought miserably, a jerk is exactly what I am.
The idea had been to make her laugh, but it had backfired, as his ideas always did. He would imagine the whole thing in his head, the way it would go, complete with dialogue, as if it were a movie that he was directing. He would see it played out in his mind frame for frame. He would leap up out of the water in his mask and wet suit, Vera leaping back, frightened at first, then amused at the stunt and flattered by the trouble he had gone to on her account, but, of course, that was not how it turned out. These things never turned out the way he imagined they would.
Shelly sighed heavily. I give up, he thought. What’s wrong with me, anyway? Why can’t I ever do anything right? I ought to just give up on the whole thing, forget about Vera, forget about a career in filmmaking, and get a job as a cook at a fast-food restaurant. The thought suddenly made him long for a double burger, a quarter pounder with cheese, a couple of orders of large fries, a large milkshake, and maybe a fried fish fillet with extra sauce and an apple turnover. He wondered if there were any fast-food places nearby. Or at least a pizzeria. He was starving.
A shadow crossed one of the windows and he glanced up to see who it was, but the figure had already passed. Whoever it was had gone around the house, heading toward the barn. Shelly got off the porch swing and went down the steps toward the barn, carrying his mask and spear gun. He went up to the window and looked in, but it was way too dark to see anything. He tapped on the window.
“Chuck? Chili? What’re you guys doin’ in there?” He grinned. “You guys doin’ something I shouldn’t see?”
He pushed open the door and fumbled for the light switch. Powerful fingers suddenly closed around his wrist in a vise-like grip and brutally yanked him forward. He gasped with shocked surprise, then he saw a flash of steel and opened his mouth to scream, but he never had the chance. The knife blade whistled through the air with the speed of a Japanese chef slicing up a stir fry, and Shelly felt the agonizing fire of its razor-sharp edge as is slashed across his throat.
Vera shifted uncomfortably on the wooden boards of the dock and reached into her back pocket to see what was poking her. She pulled out Shelly’s wallet. She had forgotten to give it back to him after that scene with the bikers at the convenience store. Out of curiosity, she opened it and started going through the contents. She paused at a
