Did You Hear That?

“Did you hear that?”

I didn’t hear anything. Apart from the sound of sleeping bags rustling and a zipper struggling. “What?”

“That.”

I still didn’t hear anything. “What’s that?”

“You hear it now?”

“No -- I don’t know -- what is it?” I heard crickets and some other things probably. Certainly nothing special though.

“I don’t know! It’s … something…”

I guess Shelley wouldn’t agree. “Well I hear things…”

“You do!?”

“Well yeah, but I don’t think they’re anything to get riled up about.” I realized I had to pee now. Sigh. Was there dew outside the tent yet? Bare feet or flip flops? Ugh.

“I’m not getting riled up.”

“It seems like you are.” It seemed like she was. Where the heck were my flip flops, anyway?

“I’m not either!”

“Well now you’re getting me riled up.” Lord I hated getting up to pee in the middle of the night. If there was one thing I hated most about camping that was it.

“Geez, I’m serious. There’s something out there!”

You’d think Shelley always freaking out in the middle of the night would be the thing, but she’d been doing that since we were kids so I reckon I was about immune to it. “There’s lots of things out there. It’s their home. We’re just visitors, remember?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “Like you tell your kids in your nature camp?” Shelley’d just got her first job this Summer, as a Junior Naturalist with Parks. All of a sudden she loved nature.

“That’s in the daytime.”

I guess she only loved it in the daytime. If she couldn’t see me rolling my eyes in the dark she could hear it in my voice. “When do you think they sleep?”

“It doesn’t sound like they’re sleeping. You know some animals hunt at night, right?”

“Do they hunt for little sisters?” I was trying to decide if I needed my headlamp, and reminded myself like I always do that I needed to look for one that went straight to red, night vision, whatever they call it. That damn floodlight always woke me up too much.

“Mom told you not to be a jerk this weekend.”

Mom did tell me not to be a jerk. Shelley couldn’t help it. I mean, she was sixteen -- cut her some slack. I stumbled to my feet, bracing my slightly inebriated self with the flimsy roof of the tent. I looked down at Shelley, took a slow breath and did my best to speak calmly. “Alright, I’m gonna go out there and pee, and if I see anything I’ll let you know.”

“I don’t know if you should, Brad.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” I decided I’d go naked -- no flip flops, no headlamp. I reached for the door zipper, unsure like always which one to pull.

“There it is again! You hear that, Brad?”

I didn’t hear anything, but I got the right zipper on the first go. I figured that was a good sign.

“Brad!”

I turned to Shelley one last time. “I’ll be back before you know it. There aint no baddy out there gonna get your big brother.” I gave her a wink and stepped out in the darkness.

Brad’s footsteps don’t go far enough before they stop and I hear zipp. “Ew! Can you pee further from the tent, Brad? I don’t want to be stepping in your mess in the morning.”

“I’m peeing against the tree Shelley. Relax.”

I wish Brad would just listen to me once in a while. I know he thinks I’m just a kid, but I’m not a kid anymore! Jerk! “I doubt the tree likes that much.”

“I don’t think the tree cares much honestly.”

Jerk.

“There’s nothing out here Shelley. Just as still as a graveyard.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” That wasn’t funny. Graveyard’s are still for a reason. I’m not scared of graveyards.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Zipp. “Sorry…maybe not the best choice of words. There’s just nothing to be scared of.”

“I’m not scared!” I’m not a kid anymore!

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I used to be scared of the dark.” Click. Like a lighter.

“Are you smoking up?” Like, really? That jerk is smoking up.

“Just a couple tokes -- you want?”

Really!? “Really? You know what that stuff does to me.” That stuff freaks me out.

“That was some freaky hybrid shit. This is straight indica. You know -- ‘in da couch’? It’ll put you right out -- no worries.” Another lighter click.

“Yeah, um, that’s OK.” I hate when Brad talks weed. Talk about a jerk.

“Suit yourself.”

Click. That wasn’t a lighter -- more like a twig snapping.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“You had to hear that! Like a twig snapping.”

“A twig snapped? Oh no!”

Jerk.

“We’re in the woods, Shell. There’s twigs in the woods, and sometimes they snap.”

Asshole.

Click. Snap. Definitely a twig snapping.

“You had to hear that!?”

“Maybe.” He had to hear that.

“Are you coming in?” I wish he would just come in. I’m starting to get riled up.

“Shell you’re starting to harsh my mellow man.”

Oh hell. “Well I’m not feeling real mellow myself, in here by myself, while you’re out there…”

“Shell!”

I could sense he was getting impatient with me. I took a deep breath. I’m not scared.

“Let’s just chill for a minute. And I’ll come right in.”

“OK.”

“OK.”

OK. I’m not scared. Everything’s gonna be all right. It’s as still as … a graveyard out there.

Snap.

What was that?

“Shell?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Um, did you hear that?”

The next sound heard by Brad and Shelley was a bloodcurdling, unhuman howl ringing out through the night. Likely the last sound Brad would hear, since, as far as we know, a decapitated head flying through the woods can’t process sounds. Not that Shelley was making any, frozen as she was, still as a stone in her sleeping bag, eyes glued to the hulking shadow silhouetted in moonlight as it slowly moved across the outside of the tent.

Snap. Crack. Pop.

Just one thought echoed through Shelley’s disheveled mind.

“Did you hear that?”