Quote the Raven

A muderer is taunted by his recent kill...

 

Ezekiel Lomaya was only eighteen years old when he passed away. It was an astonishing change of pace for the people of Gilbert’s Bluff. Many had known Ezekiel to be pleasant and cooperative, willing to help out anyone in need. He was always careful when he drove his steel colored Neon, watching carefully for the animals and children that continually ran into the road around the small, rural town. The fact that he was so careless as to run into a tree and kill himself was unspeakably eerie. The people of Gilbert’s Bluff talked about the accident for weeks, some excited and curious, others baffled and frightened. If one good kid could die so carelessly, who’s to say that anyone could have the same fate?

            These doubtful thoughts could not keep most of the town from going to Ezekiel’s funeral, however. Ezekiel’s family was well known in Gilbert’s Bluff, and highly respected. Mrs.Lomaya, plump and cheerful, was an adored English teacher at Bluff Elementary. His father was a tall, wry man who owned one of the biggest bookshops in town. Ezekiel was their only child, so it came as no surprise when Mrs. Lomaya burst into tears when she heard the news.

            “He was a good boy! Why did this have to happen? Oh, Ezekiel.” Mrs. Lomaya’s sobs could be heard throughout the school, which was where she heard the news.

            Mr. Lomaya took the death of his only son in a different way. His wife had to be virtually sedated because her anguish caused her to sob hysterically and yell half crazed words at the authorities. However, Mr. Lomaya barely said anything other than yes and no to the police’s questions. He seemed in a permanent state of withdrawal.

            The Lomaya’s weren’t the only ones upset over Ezekiel’s unexpected death. The whole town was in an uproar, and there were over a hundred people at Ezekiel’s funeral. It was a sad affair, with many thoughts to Ezekiel’s achievement and triumphs. Former classmates said several things about his determination to help everyone and still get the highest grades in school. Freshmen who only knew Ezekiel by looks came up and said what a good student he was. Teachers who had known him since kindergarten came and said how he was accepted into almost every college he applied for. Yet the most poignant character that appeared at the funeral to speak, (Besides Mr. and Mrs. Lomaya) was Karen Tyson.

            Karen had been Ezekiel’s girlfriend for over two years. The long, warm relationship they had during their senior year at Bluff High lasted for another year at the local college. Ezekiel’s death had been a tragic burden for Karen to bear, and it showed in the way she delivered her compliments at Ezekiel’s grave.

            “Ezekiel was one of the most heartfelt, thoughtful, sensitive boys I’ve ever known.” Karen said, her voice shaking with the effort to keep from crying.

            “He always took time to help a fellow student, or any person really. Our relationship proved that. Now, I’m sure he’s gone to a better place. Ezekiel deserves that much, at least.”

            With that, she stepped away from the podium for the next person to come say a few words. A scatter of applause came from the large crowd, and Mrs. Lomaya came up to give her a quick hug.

            “He always loved you,” she whispered into Karen’s shoulder. “I’m sure he still does.”

            Karen hugged Mrs. Lomaya in return, and then went back to her seat to watch the rest of the ceremony. Everyone who sat next to her gave her a quick pat on the shoulder or a sympathetic smile. Karen looked around. Since the whole town had shown up, space was unavailable in the quiet, little Presbyterian Church. Many people had to stand outside the church, and strain to hear the words that were being spoken by an old friend of Ezekiel’s.

            Yet there was one person who wasn’t really listening to the ceremony, and he definitely wasn’t a friend.

 

            Timothy Heckler followed the procession out of the church and watched as the black, glossy limo drove the Lomaya family to the gravesite. The rest of the town got into their cars and started to follow them, many curious as to the outcome of Ezekiel’s body being laid to rest. It was not every day the town’s golden boy killed himself driving.

            The thought made Timothy smirk in superiority. Thanks to the number he did to the dweeb’s car, Ezekiel was out of his hair for good. That time bomb went off at the right time, giving just enough jerk to the engine so Ezekiel would run it off the road. The tree was just an added effect; who would’ve guessed that Ezekiel would be driving on a country road?

            Timothy watched hungrily as Karen got into her little Dodge. Karen was one of the prettiest girls in school, or in Timothy’s mind she was. Her satiny gold hair blew gently in the wind as she struggled to compose herself and unlock her car at the same time. Her blue eyes were blurry, and her cheeks red from the cold, November winds. Karen had always been nice to him, and he knew deep down she probably loved him. She just had to get her priorities straight. That goody-goody Ezekiel may have won her heart for a little while, but now that he was out of the picture, there was nothing between them. Once she got over her grief, she would learn that he was the one for her, not Ezekiel Lomaya.

            Timothy watched Karen follow the rest of the cars out of the church parking lot, and then headed to his own car. Watching the funeral had sent a small stab through his conscience, but only a small one. Personally, he thought that the town was better off without Ezekiel. Why would anyone treasure a guy so good he made everyone look bad? Now nobody had to live in Ezekiel’s shadow. Now they could have a dozen boys who would want to be just like him and then the whole town would be famous. Not just one boy.

            Timothy followed the procession out, but instead of turning right towards the cemetery, he turned left and sped down a leaf-speckled road. This day just got better and better. He smiled coldly and pushed his black hair out of his eyes while he drove. It was a hoot to watch everyone gather around Ezekiel’s corpse and say “nice” words. Only Timothy knew that many were refraining from saying how strange it was that a guy like Ezekiel could crash his car. That alone made him want to chuckle. This whole town that never stopped talking stopped their conversation just because one boy died. What a bunch of idiots.

            Timothy pulled into the driveway of his house, a big colonial. He sat there in his car for a moment, wallowing in the happy memory of the squeal of Ezekiel’s brakes. Timothy knew that there were other ways to get rid of a nerd other than murder. But murder was much more convenient. Not only did it get rid of the nerd, but also it opened the way to Karen’s heart.

            Timothy collected himself in the car, and then got up to head inside. Fumbling with his keys, he didn’t notice the black raven sitting in the sapling near his house until it gave a raucous caw. Timothy nearly lost his keys when he jumped. The sucker was right behind him, and his caw was loud. Timothy turned around to see it staring at him; its beady little eyes gazing at him mockingly.

            “Beat it bird! Shoo.”

            The raven continued to look at him steadily, making him nervous with its unblinking stare. Timothy quickly unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind him, causing the raven to take flight. Timothy watched it disappear over the treetops, and then went in the kitchen to fix himself a celebratory snack, in honor of Ezekiel’s death.

            A few hours later, Timothy sat in the den watching the news. The reporters on the television sadly stated Ezekiel’s death, and went over a few safety rules of the road. Timothy made sure he taped it, so he could show his parents when they got back from the store. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how he kept this all from his parents. They had even gone to Ezekiel’s gravesite!

            It had been easy really. Check out a few books on bombs, and find some illustrations. His intelligence paled in comparison to Ezekiel’s, but making a small time bomb had been painfully simple. All he had to do was find Ezekiel’s unoccupied car and set the bomb near the engine. The blast would make the engine jolt and momentarily stop the brakes from working, causing Ezekiel to run off the road. Timothy made sure to follow Ezekiel at a safe distance in his own car, just in case Ezekiel managed to escape the blast. The whole thing was so ingenious that Timothy couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

            He didn’t realize something was laughing with him until he heard scratching at the back windows. Irritated, he stood up, planning to chase the intruder away. Out back were three ravens, all cawing and scratching at the windowpanes in the kitchen. However, when Timothy stepped into the room, they all stopped and sat on the porch railing, studying him scornfully. The way one of the ravens watched him made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. He didn’t know why, but one raven looked different from the others, even though it was black and feathered like the rest. Maybe it was the way it looked at him, almost like an angry human.

            Timothy shook his head at his cowardice and smacked at the window, causing the raven to fly off into the trees. The one that freaked him out stayed on the railing, continuing with his cold stare. Timothy opened the window, but it still didn’t move.

            “Scat, you flea-ridden brute! Go on, shoo.”

            Yet no matter how much he flapped his hands and yelled, the raven continued staring.

          “Listen bird. If you don’t leave in two minutes, I’m going to get my shotgun and shoot the brains out of you.”

            The bird continued to look at him. Timothy finally gave up and went into the closet to get his gun. When he came back, he quickly shot a bullet over the bird’s head, as a warning. The bird didn’t even flinch.

            Truly panicked now, Timothy reloaded his gun and aimed right between the bird’s eyes.

            “Any last words, bird?”

            He must have lost all his marbles. Only an idiot would talk to a bird.

            And only an idiot would believe a bird talked back.

            The bird opened his beak and spoke in clear, precise English, “Going to kill me again, Timothy?”

            Timothy’s mouth dropped open. The voice sounded exactly like…but no, it couldn’t be, Ezekiel was living with the worms now.

            The raven looked at him still, it eyes cold. Timothy raised his gun to shoot him again, but the raven merely turned its head to look at him through one eye. Timothy went to aim, but his hands kept shaking. Quickly, he threw the gun out the window and shut it. The he ran up to his room, closed all the shutters, and hid under the covers, shaking like a leaf. After several long, chilling hours, Timothy finally fell asleep.

 

            It was nearly midnight when he woke up. The moon showed through his window and made his eyes water. Yawning, Timothy got up and went downstairs to get a drink. Without really knowing why, he crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. He peered around the corner, like a kid afraid of monsters. The windows and everything outside them were bare.

            Sighing in relief, Timothy got out some milk. It must have been a dream. How else would you explain it?

            Timothy got himself a glass from the cupboard and poured half a cup of milk. Cold milk had always helped him go to sleep better than warm milk did. He quickly put the milk carton back into the refrigerator, and then turned to the window. Without fully realizing, he dropped his cup of milk with a crash.

            There was the raven from earlier in the day, looking at him through the window.

            Timothy felt his heart pound in his chest. Then, as if he was moving in slow motion, he picked up a butcher knife, and opened the sliding glass door. The raven flapped off into the distance, but Timothy followed, determined to keep it from terrifying him again.

            He kept an eye on the black shape as it hurtled through the sky. All he had to do was wait for it to land.

            At last they came to a clearing, and then the raven landed on a low branch of a pine tree. Timothy slowly skulked towards it, staring defiantly back at it. He inched along foot by foot. Closer and closer. His knife was just about to slash that bird down, when a noise from behind him made him halt, and look around. What he saw made his heart pound even more.

            Ravens of all shapes and sizes crowded around him, trapping him in the clearing with no way to escape. The steady muffled sound of their feathers in the wind and the beady coldness of their eyes made his heart stop. Slowly, gently, the ravens came towards him, either flapping swiftly or walking clumsily on the ground. Their eyes shone gold in the moonlight, their beaks sharp enough to hurt.

            Timothy was cornered. If he made a move, the ravens would destroy him for sure. The mere thought of those beaks grabbing at his clothes and skin made him shake in fear. There was only one way out. He had to do it, to get away from the ravens, especially the one who had haunted his dreams throughout the day. Slowly, he raised his knife, and it gleamed in the last bit of starlight just before a cloud went over the moon…

 

            The town of Gilbert’s Bluff was shocked speechless. Not only was one boy killed by accident, but another killed himself. Timothy Heckler wasn’t as well known as Ezekiel, for he was quiet and said to be shy. Yet someone or something scared him so badly that he ended up committing suicide.

            Only half as many people showed up at Timothy’s funeral. Karen was again asked to speak, and she put together a nice reception too. She felt it was only fair to the Timothy that he get as good a funeral as Ezekiel did. People showed up and spoke nice words, often remarking on how odd it was that Timothy’s own knife was so far away from the body.   It was as if somebody moved it.

Mr. Heckler was busy talking to a teacher of Timothy’s when Karen came up to him.

            “I’m so sorry about Timothy, Mr. Heckler. He was such a nice boy.”

            “Thank you, Karen. Hey, did you see the gravesite?”

            “Yes, but it’s funny…”

            “What’s funny?”

            “Well, when I went there, there seemed to be a lot of birds sitting in the trees.”

            “Birds? What kind of birds?”

            “Ravens, sir. And I had the strangest feeling that one was watching me.”

           

Reviews

[Blackbirdsong]

Well this was certainly worth waiting for and I really loved the whole story and you way you told it. Hopefully you don't mind, but I have some little comments about things that stuck out to me. I used to be a professional proof reader, now I'm an editor...but if this means anything I only do this on works that I really like.

Great job on this story, though...really. :)

Everything you have been this sentence is excellent, but this however, is a little awkward :)

""He was a good boy! Why did this have to happen? Oh, Ezekiel." Mrs. Lomaya's sobs could be heard throughout the school, which was where she heard the news."

It's better to simply "sedated" because "virtually" weakens the meaning of the sentence...it makes it sound as if she as almost sedated or maybe sedated...see what I mean? :)

"virtually sedated"

The repetition of "time" feels awkward here, my suggestion: moment

"That time bomb went off at the right time,"
"That time bomb went off at the right moment,"

Just a suggestion though :)

The repetition of "stopped" here really stuck out to me and not in a good way:

"This whole town that never stopped talking stopped their conversation just because one boy died."

I think you meant to type "then" here:

"The he ran up to his room, closed all the shutters, and hid under the covers, shaking like a leaf."

"enough to hurt" seems unnecessary:

"Their eyes shone gold in the moonlight, their beaks sharp enough to hurt."

Take out "the"

"he felt it was only fair to the Timothy that"

[Blackbirdsong]

Um what happened to your story? Also it's "Quoth the Raven," not quote :)