What I Tried to Forget (A "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" Modernized Retelling)

Chapter Four

            "Look, I already told the other guy- I don't know what happened to Carew." I explained to the third officer who had come into a grey interrogation room to indirectly ask me if I had murdered Carew.

Officer Hughes, a lanky and mustached man, bent over and stared me in the eyes.

"You were at the park at the estimated time of death. We have three witnesses placing you near where we discovered the body. You were the last person he communicated with. Everything points to you- that isn't a coincidence." He insisted. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I sat in Walpole Park for about thirty minutes waiting for Carew. He never showed up. I didn't wanna be out too late, so I went home." I explained. "And is time of death even accurate? Where was he found?" I asked.

"The mud pond by the South entrance." Hughes said.

"Did you factor in possible preservation or accelerated decomposition? There's a lot of bad shit in that pond- he could have been killed after I left and the mud sped up decomp and altered true time of death." I suggested.

"How do you know any of that science mumbo jumbo? You're a sophomore." Hughes wondered. I shrugged.

"I watch Bones."

"Ah. Well- do you wanna talk about bad shit? Do you know how Carew was killed?" He asked me. Hughes did not wait for my response.

"Strangulation. Strangulation with immense force. There were also small pointed cavities around the base of the neck."

"Barbed wire?"

"Too small. Probably a vine of thorns- and there is a handy pile of thorns near the pond that would have been easy to access." Hughes said. I felt my heart skip a beat. The holes in my gloves could have been caused by thorns. The dirt on my shoes could have been mud from the pond. But I don't remember murdering one of the few kinda-friends I had in Gothor, and I don't know why I would.

"The body of his sternum was also fractured, and ribs six through nine were broken." Hughes finally had my attention.

"On what side?" I inquired. Hughes seemed surprised at my curiosity.

"Um, the left side. Why?" I ignored Hughes after he told me what I wanted. I thought for a moment about the injury.

"Was there evidence of repeated antemortem bruising at the same area where the ribs were broken?" I questioned. Hughes seemed taken aback.

"What? Speak English!" Hughes demanded. I rolled my eyes and forgot that not everyone had my IQ or knowledge of human anatomy (thank God for Kathy Reichs).

"Did the coroner find proof that someone punched or hit Carew repeatedly in the area where the ribs were broken before they were broken and before he died?" I simplified. Hughes flipped through the papers in the manila folder on the table until he found the paper he needed. He read it and looked at me.

"Yeah, there was. How did you know that?" Hughes wondered, amazed. I didn't have time for this.

"Look, you have no proof that I did anything and you don't have any grounds to keep me. Let me go- I have things to do." I demanded. Hughes left the room for a moment, then returned and allowed me to be released.

***

"You want what?" my mother asked.

"The tapes you and dad made of Edward when he played football. Particularly tapes from last October." I insisted. She huffed.

"Henry, we are starting to put all of this behind us. Don't dredge up what we don't want to experience again."

"I'm not trying to dredge anything up. Coach Henson asked if I had any videos of Edward playing to show to this year's newest players what they have to live up to. An imitation thing." I lied. I think she wanted to believe it, I could see it in her eyes.

"All of the football tapes are in his football album in the attic." She told. I thanked her and walked up the attic. In it was a bunch of crap my mother didn't have the heart to throw away. Mainly a lot of Edward's stuff. His favorite shirts, shoes, books he claimed he read and other shit like that.

I found the box labeled Albums and dug through it. It was mainly albums about Edward. Edward's fifth birthday party, Edward's trips to various camps, pictures of Edward and his friends. I found only five albums of mine to Edward's nineteen- and three of mine was shared with Edward. Three albums were devoted to Edward and I's first three birthday parties, and the other two of mine was of my trip to Disney World with my school band and me going camping with Hattie, Gabriel, Carew and Edward.

I found the album devoted to Edward's football career that spammed from kindergarten until his death. I flipped through pages of him with chubby legs and a disgruntled baby face in action to him tackling guys twice his size on dark and muddy fields. I discovered the pages with the discs of him playing. I found the disc from his home game against the Johnsonville Giants, his travel game to Pittsburg to go against the Plum High mustangs, and another home game.

I brought the DVD's down to my bedroom and popped the first one in my DVD player. The picture was a bit fuzzy and far away, but you could identify player ninety-four- the quarter back.

I sped the video up to the second quarter, where the ball gets passed to Edward. He's running down the field when he catches a ball. Then he gets tackled by number forty-three. A whistle blows and all the players stop running and stuff. Edward hops up from the ground and begins to seemingly go off on number forty-three. He shoved the forty-three, and then they begin fighting. Edward shoved his helmet into the middle of forty-three's chest and wrapped his left arm around his waist. Edward began punching the ribs on forty-three's left side until teammates from both teams pried the two apart.

I watched that part three more times and then moved to the other two videos. At some point, he always did the same thing- dubbed the Stevenson Stupor by Edward's football teammates. Edward would ram his helmet into the sternum of the other guy, wrap his left arm around the other dude's waist and started to repeatedly punch the left side of the other dude with his right arm. It was similar, nay, almost identical to the injuries described to have ailed Carew before his death.

I ran downstairs, about to get my bike from the garage when there was a knock on the door. I answered it.

"Hughes. Twice in one day, I feel special. What excuse do I owe the pleasure to?" I said sarcastically to the officer. He held his hat awkwardly in his hands and fiddled it.

"Henry, can I talk to one of your parents? It's important." His voice was higher than it had been earlier, and more strained.

"Why? Tell me first." I insisted. Hughes cleared his throat.

"We have witnesses that say that they saw Edward kill Carew." He told me. I chuckled.

"But he's dead." I said.

"That's why we need your parent's permission to exhume the body. We need to make sure he's dead." Hughes explained. My breath left me and vision darkened for a moment. I took a step back.

"Mom! Dad! You guys are gonna wanna come here for a minute!"