1978
Skinny and Mouse arrived at the crossroads around pre-dawn the next day while Harry, Conner, and CJ slept soundly. Mouse turned the car into the park road and drove until they came to the original park entrance sign. A few years back, federal funding ran out for the state park, and the road, among other things, disintegrated. Fordham Park had once been a very popular camping place for locals and travelers.
"This the way to the park Boss?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's right Mouse." He lit another cigarette. It was the last one. He crumpled the empty pack and threw it out the window. "Damn it," he muttered.
"What's that Boss? You say something?"
"Shut up," he explained. "And stop calling me Boss all the time."
Mouse had to think about that for a few seconds. "Ain't you my boss, Boss?"
Skinny almost answered him but stopped himself. The road wound on for about a quarter mile until clearer signs of civilization appeared. Signs pointing to the Visitor's center this way and signs for Campground East that way. The dining area to the left. A splintery wooden post held a sign they couldn't make out. Skinny told him to make for the visitor's center first.
When they arrived at the abandoned center, they parked the car near the entrance and made sure there was another way out.
Skinny and Mouse got out of the car and walked up to the front door and pushed on the handle. It opened easily. A makeshift sign hanging on the door said, "CLOSED FOR WINTER." Skinny walked inside.
"They cleaned this place out."
The building stood empty of anything of value since the park closed years ago. Litter, which was scattered all around, marked the years of transient use. As time went by, lone campers and travelers looking for cheap rooms stayed there taking less care of the place than they would if it were still open. Because of its remote location, local school kids would party there. Empty bottles of alcohol, candy wrappers, and used condoms were everywhere. In the corner by the bathrooms, was an old chewed-up sleeping bag that looked as though someone had blown it to pieces with a shotgun.
He turned to see Mouse standing in the doorway with a non-filtered Camel in his mouth, unlit. He had the pack in his huge hand.
"You don't goddamn smoke," he said as he grabbed the pack out of his hand. "Where the hell d'ya get this? Give 'em here." He fumbled with the pack. Mouse had gently closed the foil neatly in place. "Got a light?"
"It's in the car Boss where ya left it."
"Go get it. I have to figure out what the hell we're gonna do tonight. They ain't been here, that's for goddamn sure."
Mouse walked back to the car. His stomach growled, and he stopped to look around, "I'm awful goddamn hungry," he said, and muttered audibly as he went. "That's for goddamn sure."
Skinny followed him to the car. He opened the trunk while Mouse searched for the lighter. He had forgotten about the girl. "Oh Christ," he said, throwing his head back. The body had emptied itself of its bowls and bladder.
"Whatta reek. I guess she's dead alright."
Mouse came back with the lighter and handed it to Skinny. They both stood looking at the body.
"I'm still hungry Boss, oops, I mean."
"Hungry?" he shook his head. "You're always hungry. How can you eat at a time like this, with that fat thing stinking up my trunk?"
Skinny lit up the cigarette, took a long drag, lifted his face to the sky, and blew out a stream of smoke and frozen breath. Mouse took the lighter from him and lit his own cigarette, puffed, but did not inhale. He looked up also and blew steam from his lungs.
"Let's get this stiff out of here. I got an idea where they are."
Mouse put the smoking cigarette in his mouth, reached in, took hold of the body, pulled it halfway out, and then hoisted it over his shoulder, crushing his cigarette in the process.
"Where do ya want it Boss?"
"Over here." They walked back to the building. Once inside, Mouse dropped the body on a bench in the inner room. Skinny gathered the old sleeping bag and as much debris as he could find and scattered it around the body.
"Wait here," he said. He walked back to the car, opened the passenger door, and leaned inside. He reached into the cavernous glove box and produced a full bottle of vodka and a flare he had for some time. He wondered if it still worked.
He opened the vodka and took a long drink. Then he lit another cigarette and walked back to the hut. He took two cigarettes, laid them on the body, and covered it with newspapers. Then he poured the remaining vodka on the papers and lit the whole thing with the flare, which sputtered at first and then took off. The pyre flared into life.
Skinny and Mouse stepped aside for a moment to make sure it took well enough to burn the body and the building in which it would be entombed. When the heat became too much they turned back to the car. The air coming in through broken windows would help feed the flames.