Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods

Chapter 12: Sam the Witness

Two weeks passed since Victor and Willow arrived home.

The newspaper headlines were unusually quiet. Stories about the traumatic events surrounding the two pairs-skaters had faded within days. Life as usual continued for them and their families.

News of Kane Diaz, however, and his disappearance continued to be a source of gossip and speculation around town. The local CSPD conducted interviews of Kane's friends and family but found no more information on what happened to him several weeks before, at the time of the incident in Acacia Park.

Sam, the local homeless celebrity who found Willow in the park, had also been interviewed on any knowledge he had about Kane. He had no information to give. He also ignored additional questions about his relationship with the Great Church.

He kept his photographs hidden, together with his Polaroid camera, after all, it was one special camera. He guarded it and kept it concealed in an old, faded, brown leather satchel, buried deep at the bottom of his backpack.

Sam never spoke of the photos to anyone, other than the homeless people who also saw the lights. They would rehash their stories when the day ended, when the sun had settled behind the peak, and it was time to arrange the various pieces of cardboard, old clothes, blankets, and anything they had found, ensuring a comfortable, warm night's sleep under the bridge.

Marcie would bring the topic of the lights up and demand to see the photos one last time. Sam would whip them out, and Marcie would screech and howl, just as she did the first time. When sleep came to her, her mind would fade out, and her body would shudder and twitch—just like a dog. She'd lay there dreaming of faceless, glowing people surrounding her, inching closer and closer. She'd tell the others about her dreams the following day in the food line at the Marion House soup kitchen.

Sam didn't mind people harassing him about the photos. He knew they were special.

From what he knew, no one else in the community saw the lights in the sky, or the auras surrounding the bodies of the girl and the boy. Nothing appeared in the newspapers, on the television, or over the radio. The few in the homeless camp who had seen the photos, and their magic, kept the secret to themselves.

Eventually, Sam and Marcie separated themselves from the larger group. They took up residence under the next bridge downstream along the banks of Fountain Creek.

On this Thursday, Sam had prepared for the evening's nightfall by scooping up items for his bed. They included a large, flat-screen television box for the floor, another to form a tent over his body, a used sleeping bag from the Arc Thrift Store, and a stack of the day's Independent, and Gazette newspaper he snuck from the convenience store on Tejon Street. The weather called for a hard frost, and he knew bunched paper made for some cozy heat retention.

He took out the first stack of newspaper, looked at the cover page, and gasped.

"Hey Marcie, you won't believe it," he said. "Those two kids from the park are in the paper."

Marcie looked over her shoulder at him, yelling back, "What?"

"Those kids, they're in the paper—they're up and moving around now."

Sam held the paper up above his head and waved it around to get his point across. Marcie tilted off her knees, stood up, and hobbled over to where Sam held the paper. She swiped it from him, burying her face between the pages.

"Says here they're skaters," she said, reading from the page. "They're 'working hard at the Broadmoor Ice Hall,' and 'getting over recent events and skating again.'" She continued. "Looks like they're practicing down there tomorrow morning, too." She handed the paper back to Sam.