William Royden

With it, we walked back to the bus stop.

As we waited for the bus to pick us up going in the opposite direction,

Cording said that what he needed to do might take a while, and that he might need my help.

This sent a shudder down my spine.

We rode back to the park.

When we got off the bus, Cording saw right away that Mr. Coakland's son was no longer on the park bench.

Cording turned to me, looking ill.

and said he thought he knew where he had gone.

He changed his mind on the spot and said he didn't want what was to come next recorded on videotape.

He instructed me to recharge my camera battery and meet him in two hours on the far side of the park.

Then he left me, walking toward Rudwick Road with the shovel.

In a daze, I shut off the camera.

I tried to think of where I might recharge my camera battery and walked down the road three quarters of a mile into Cheltenbrook, the neighborhood where my best childhood friend had lived.

He still lived there with his parents.

I went to his house, needing to sit down and relax.

I convinced myself as I walked that if Steve were home, I wouldn't tell him what I had seen or what I was doing.

Only later, if I was able to tell him without anyone else ever finding out, would I do that.

Steve was home and had just gotten out of bed.

He was happy to see me, and I told him I had been in the area taping a wedding reception.

We sat in his basement and talked about old times.