I'll Never Die

The large banner headline read: “The Search Continues for Wade Carson.” With the local paper spread out on his kitchen table, thirty-year old Justin Vicks sipped coffee as he read about the search for the missing boy in the fields and woods around the small town of Clayville. The sheriff believed foul play was involved, but wouldn’t go into details, and there was a photo of Wade’s parents, dark, sad eyes and drawn  faces, thanking the community for helping look for their son.

Justin folded up the paper and lit a cigarette. Bumbling yahoos couldn’t find shit in an outhouse, he thought, shaking his head as he considered the level of their ineptitude. After crushing out his smoke in the remains of his lunch, he unlocked the basement door and descended the stairs. In a corner of the dingy, musty room was six-year old Wade, curled up in a tight ball, sitting on a stained mattress. Justin smiled as he took in the scene, and then walked toward the terrified boy.

Around five that evening there was a knock on the front door, and Justin found himself facing two sheriff’s deputies, men he had known all his life.

“Justin,” said one of the officers. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Bill. Art. What can I do for you?”

“Sorry, but do you still drive that blue F100?” asked Art.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, Edith Laskos was looking out her kitchen window last Friday about the time Wade went missing, and thought she saw a young boy get into the passenger side of a blue pickup.”

“Oh no, that wasn’t…I can’t believe this. I was at work all day Friday. You can ask Marv.”

Bill was now looking over Justin’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you had kids, Justin.”

Feeling as if he’d just been punched in the stomach, Justin tried to remain steady. “Kids? No, I don’t have any kids.”

“Well I just saw a boy run from one room to the other.”

Stay focused, cool. “That’s impossible, Bill.”

“I know what I…there he goes again. He just ran into the kitchen.”

Art shook his head. “I saw him too.”

Justin turned, but there was nothing there. “That’s not possible,” he said, his voice cracking and rising in pitch. “There’s no kid here. I’m telling you, there’s no one else in this house.”

“Calm down, Justin. I think we’d better take a look around.”

The two officers brushed past the shaken man, who now turned in a panic.

“Stop,” Justin shouted. Wearing grim expressions, the two officers turned toward the now wide-eyed, frantic man. “There is no boy,” he yelled, flecks of spit flying, “because he’s dead. I killed him hours ago.” Justin sank to his knees sobbing. “I killed him.” After a few moments, he felt a warm breath on one ear and heard a boy’s voice.

“You killed me,” Wade whispered, “but I’ll never die.”