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Rated: E · Short Story · Friendship · #1510159
Three brothers head out for an adventure but things are never quite what they seem.

PREMISE: Three boys decide to go have some fun at the local swimming hole. Shortly after they arrive, something terrible happens.

“Look,” shouted the youngest Callahan brother. Ben excitedly raced toward the edge of the frozen lake staring out into the darkness. “It’s still here Jack, the fishing shanty is exactly where you said it would be.”

“Calm down Ben and stop shouting.” He said, gasping for breath as he came up behind him. From his pocket he took out his inhaler and took two quick puffs. “You’re loud enough to wake the dead.”

“Wasn’t that the point?” grumbled Joe as he came up beside his older brother. “I still don’t understand why were out here in this bitter cold freezing our nuts off.”

Neither could Jack understand why he picked tonight of all nights to come out ice fishing. He was as cold as his brothers and the thought of a nice warm bed was playing havoc on his thinking not to mention his unmentionables.

“Why exactly are we out here?” Joe rounded on him so Ben couldn’t hear them talking.

“It wasn’t one of my better ideas but Ben needed to get away from grams’ nagging.” He said, side stepping his younger brother.

But Joe grabbed his arm, stopping Jack. “I get that Jack. But what I don’t get is why tonight and why here?” He bobbed his head to their favorite swimming hole that was covered with a glacier of ice. “It’s not exactly the best time of the year to go swimming, if you get my drift.”

Yeah, Jack got Joe’s drift and it wasn’t the best night with the wind picking up off the frozen tundra and wrapping them in its artic arms. The snow was starting to come down faster and harder than when they had left the house an hour before. Snow was covering their fresh tracks and Jack knew they shouldn’t stay long.

“I’m just going to bring him out to the shanty and let him fish.” His voice was muffled as he wrapped his wool scarf around his face just leaving his eyes visible. “I’ll give him ten minutes whether he catches a dang fish or not.”

Ben had been so excited about going to their “favorite spot” Jack didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. Their father was out of town for a business trip (Dan Callahan was in New York City shmaltzing a new editor for his suspense thriller series) and had left them with their grandmother. Their gram was anything but the grandmotherly type, brisk and mean to the bone; and she had a memory like an elephant. And she never let the boys ever forget it. Tonight had been particularly bad as she went into one of her rages. Jack knew he had to do something and get them away from the old hag. So here they were, walking across a dense sheet of ice trying not to break their necks.

“Oh. My. God.” came from Ben as he opened the door to the shed. He jumped back hard trying to escape the sight in front of him. Jack had been right behind his little brother, so when Ben bucked and jumped he nailed Jack in the face busting his nose.

“What the f…!” Jack shouted, dropping to his knees. He covered his face grasping his nose as he tried to staunch the blood that was steady streaming, droplets falling to the ice.
Joe had fallen with a thump, slamming his head against the ice, giving him an abominable headache; luckily Joe couldn’t feel any blood at the back of his head.

“What the hell Ben.” He shouted at his younger brother, who was shaking so hard Joe was sure he heard the ice crack. Joe got to his feet and walked over to where Jack was kneeling. He haunches down to see if Jacks nose had stopped bleeding. “Here use this.” He hands Jack his scarf and helps him wrap it around his face hoping to stay the bleeding.

“Thanks,” he said. “Go see what freaked Ben out, would ya?” Jack slowly got to his feet and followed after Joe to where Ben still stood shaking with bulging scared eyes.

“What? What is it?” Joe asked but all Ben could do was point to the opening of the shanty.

Joe and Jack shrugged and walked to the opening of the shanty and both jumped as high as Ben had.

“Oh. My. Freaking. God.” They both said as they stared down at a frozen form on the floor of the shed.


© Copyright 2008 C.J. Colburn (adkmor4 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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