Through Brian's Eyes

  Chapter 4

  Swirling grey and white clouds dominated the Saturday morning sky as a stiff breeze cruised through Southern Pines. Leaves fluttered about, hanging on for dear life, afraid to be separated from their branches. Within the breeze was the strong presence of moisture. Much needed rain was close by.

  Adam wanted some information and knew Kyle could supply it quickly. Instead of calling, he decided to walk the short distance down the street to Kyle’s house. The possibility of rain didn’t bother him one bit, and he was positive Kyle would be home because of it. He slipped on his small red and white windbreaker and headed out the front door. The breeze made his jacket puff up, becoming a colorful sail, and he tamed it by slipping his hands inside its pockets and holding the sides against his body. He crossed over his lawn and took on a leisurely pace along the sidewalk, occasionally glancing upward at the ever-changing sky.

  A few droplets of rain struck his forehead as he turned up into Kyle’s driveway. His raps on their screen door sounded like a mistuned snare drum. He waited but no one answered, so he knocked again. The interior door handle jiggled, then the door opened. Barely visible through the dark screen stood Mrs. Stapley, Kyle’s mom. He stepped back as she opened the screen door with a smile, wearing a low-key outfit that was typical for a Saturday morning. Her loose red T-shirt was untucked and covered the waist of her faded jeans. Her open-toed sandals and absence of toe-nail polish was a clear indication she was in a relaxed mood as her loose, brunette pony tail bounced with the slightest movement. The fragrance of spicy sausage, with hints of garlic and tomatoes, escaped the house as he began to speak.

  “Hi Mrs. Stapley. Is Kyle home?

  “Hi Adam. Sure he is. Come on in.” The pleasant aroma drew him inside. “He’s in his room. You can go on up.”

  “Thanks.”

  On a few occasions, he’d received some light scolding from Mrs. Stapley for running up the stairs, so he made sure to walk this time. He could feel her watching as he reached the landing and turned the corner. His visit was unannounced, so he wondered what Kyle would say. Kyle’s door sat partially opened at the end of the hallway and the carpet did an excellent job of suppressing his approaching footsteps. Adam peeked into Kyle’s room. He was perched at his desk staring intently at his laptop while his radio played an upbeat song. Adam purposely pounded on Kyle’s door. Kyle yelped as he jumped and turned back to see who the hell was banging on his door. Adam couldn’t hold in his laughter. He’d gotten Kyle good this time.

  “Dude, you scared the crap outta me!” Kyle cried as he sat there in a daze.

  “Ha..ha..ha,” Adam laughed, holding his stomach. “Sorry dude…ha..haa.”

  “Man…whadaya want.”

  “Ha…ha…hold on…your face…it looked so stupid…ha…ha…haaaaa.”

  “Forget you, man,” Kyle rebuffed.

  “Okay…okay. Sorry dude. I didn’t know that was going to happen…well, maybe I did.”

  “Come in and close the door, you loser.”

  “Alright,” Adam said as he continued giggling.

  “Alright…alright. What do you want?” Kyle asked growing more perturbed by Adam’s chuckling.

  “Okay, listen. Remember when all of us rode our bikes to school a few weeks ago, and you said something about that guy in the grave? You said you found some information about him on the Internet.”

  “You mean Brian Kinkaid?”

  “Yeah, that’s the guy. Show me the stuff you found out about him.”

  “Why?”

  Adam wasn’t prepared for such a direct question so soon, and he hovered above Kyle’s bed before sitting down. The humor from his earlier antics was abandoned.

  “I don’t know. It just came to me this morning. What did you find out about him?”

  Adam was taken aback by Kyle’s expression. It was an ungodly synthesis of surprise, confusion, and disbelief. Then again, Adam wasn’t sure why he wanted to see that stuff, he just did.

  Kyle turned around and started displaying saved webpages to his friend. Adam stood over his right shoulder viewing pictures and reading, focusing mostly on the people involved with capturing, sentencing, and executing the serial killer. He even asked Kyle to send their names in an email addressed to him as well as print him out a copy of their names. Kyle did him one better and included the links to the webpages without asking any questions. After Kyle sent the email and printed out the same information, Adam asked him if he wanted to go outside, but Kyle declined. With nothing left to say, Adam took the paper, folded it up and placed it in his right pocket. Then he said his goodbyes, and left. As he descended the stairs, Kyle’s mother stepped from the living room and said,

  “Kyle didn’t walk you to the door?”

  “No. That’s okay. I need to get home and he’s busy.”

  “Hmmm. That’s no reason for him to be so rude. I’ll have a talk with him.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m not mad or anything.”

  “Well, okay. Goodbye Adam, and say hi to your mom for me,” she said as she opened the door.

  Adam exited saying, “Bye Mrs. Stapely. I’ll tell my mom.”

  The moisture in the air was thick, but it hadn’t started raining yet. A light mist peppered his forehead and cheeks. Above, a deep rumble spread throughout the clouds. Those fuckers will pay now, he thought to himself.

  The sky released its pent-up moisture just as Adam crossed his lawn towards the front door. His house felt desolate and cold, like an ancient cave upon entering. He called out for his mother and father, but the only responses where brief echoes. The kitchen light was still on. He checked the garage, but the cars were gone. He stepped back inside the house and closed the door behind him.

  The mahogany cutlery block on the kitchen counter caught his eye. He unsheathed the large chef’s knife and scrutinized the blade, allowing the reflected light to flash into his eyes. He ran his finger along the blade's edge, testing its sharpness. It has to be much sharper than this. It has to go in quickly so when I rip it upwards, all their hatred can pool at their feet. He reached for the honing steel in the drawer below the counter and began swiping the blade across its hardened carbon ridges. He didn’t blink or stop sharpening for a good three minutes. When he finished, he pulled out the stubby utility knife and sharpened it also. Their blood will hiss as it gushes from their throats. How I love that sound! Then he slid both knives back into the wooden block.