Christmas Trees & Monkeys Read Free

a few months after his twelfth birthday, this had become a new twist in his life. This time, it was not received with the terror and embarrassment he’d suffer in the middle of Miss Monroe’s Social Studies class. This time it felt right. Jacob’s stomach tightened at the thought of Patrick laying alone with the corpse, and the fact that he had no intention of tossing the pebble. He stared at the flames licking each other behind the furnace windows. His arousal intensified.
    “ Come on, man,” Kenny said, leaning back on his haunches. “This is just too sick. Throw the rock so we can get the hell out of here.”
    For as long as the two boys were old enough to cross the street, they had been each other’s only friend. This may have been because they were the only kids their age on that end of Washington Street. More likely it was because their mutual obsession with all things macabre alienated them from the rest of their classmates. Last Thursday, Kenny brought Patrick into their fold. Now, he couldn’t help thinking that Jacob concocted this scheme just to scare away the threat Patrick presented to their long-standing twosome.
    Jacob continued his vigil and waved away his friend’s suggestion. Kenny grabbed his arm. “Throw it, you piss-head.”
    At that moment the door to the small room swung open.
    In a reaction more instinctive than calculated, Jacob slapped at the metal bar. He caught the window at the last moment, closing it silently. His eyes never left the old man. Carefully, like an animal backing away from a threat, he slithered in the grass until he was out of the window’s light.
    Kenny whispered, “Oh, my God.” He was on his feet, pacing behind Jacob. “Oh, my God oh my God oh my -”
    “ Will you shut up?” Jacob’s hiss froze Kenny’s hysteria for the moment. The boy looked down, eyebrows raised in a silent plea.
    In reply Jacob whispered, “We do nothing.” He scrambled onto his knees. “Just stay put and see if he leaves again.”
    Kenny shook his head, but did not move.
     
    * * *
     
    Benson Laraby shuffled past the coffin. In his peripheral vision he tried to see if the Kinsley boy was still at the window. He had seen someone up there earlier. He knew damned well who it was. Sick idiot kid , he thought. This was the third time he’d spied the boy watching him. He turned to face the window. Nothing but darkness beyond. He sighed. The boy was probably still there but, as before, the old man decided to leave him to his devices rather than call Robert Kinsley and get him in trouble. Last thing he wanted was a bunch of broken windows to deal with later.
    The internal temperature looked good. Laraby released the safety and pulled down hard on the old lever. The twin doors to the oven screeched open. In seconds the basement room was thick with heat.
     
    * * *
     
    Patrick took short, silent breaths. He listened to the old man’s footsteps. All but forgotten was the stench and feel of the vomit. Two opposing voices in his head fought for control. One screamed “Open the lid! Open it and climb out the window. He’ll see you but might not recognize you! You’ll be safe….”
    The other voice was calm, a soothing unperturbed whisper. “Don’t move,” it said. “Just stay calm and wait to see what happens. The last thing you want is for Jacob to see you running like a little girl. The old man’ll recognize you; don’t kid yourself. Then what will your father say?”
    This last voice is what Patrick obeyed.
    Something shifted beside him. He turned his head in the darkness. With terrifying clarity he realized the only other thing in the coffin was Mister Benchman.
     
    * * *
     
    When Kenny pushed past his friend, Jacob grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down. In the boy’s ear he whispered, “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “ The old man’s gonna burn him, we have -”
    Jacob covered Kenny’s mouth with his hand. “You’re right,” he said, looking occasionally