Butterfly Weeds (6 page)

             
R
achel and I arrived at Will’s house in my jeep at five after nine. The sun was well on its way to making its exit from the world that day, and though it was still barely daylight outside, it would only be a matter of maybe minutes before the sky was completely swallowed by darkness.

             
“So, you have no idea what they’re up to this time?” Rachel questioned me when we pulled into Will’s driveway.

             
“No idea. Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied as I slid the jeep into park.

             
“You guys are late,” I heard Will protest just then, while marching vehemently around the corner of the back porch with a duffle bag slung over one shoulder. His two buddies followed close behind him.

             
I hadn’t even had the chance to reach for my door handle before the boys closed in on my vehicle in a single-file line.

             
“What?” I questioned and then lau
ghed. “It’s only five minutes.”

             
The three guys’ faces screamed seriousness, well, except for one. One was giving everything he had not to smile, but in the end, wasn’t being very successful at it. Though, all three of them looked very much like they had a job to do, and by the way it seemed, it wa
s no doubt of an urgent matter.

             
“You got the camera?” Will questioned me.

             
“Yeah, I brought it,” I said, trying my best to hold in my giggles.

             
“Good, you two are our press tonight.” Will exclaimed, now smiling, as he threw the duffle bag into
the back of the SUV.

             
Then, Will and the other two boys climbed over the jeep’s sides and squeezed tightly into the backseat.

             
I watched them through my rearview mirror.

             
“Wow, you guys all fit back
there?” I remarked, surprised.

             
The army of severe faces jus
t stared back at me in silence.

             
“Okay, where am I going?” I asked, shrugging off their glares.

             
“To the windmill,” Will announced, sounding very much like he was on a vital, secret mission.

             
The windmill?

             
Of course, I knew what he was talking about and where it was. Everyone did. At the edge of town was this huge, old windmill that hadn’t been in use for as long as we’d been alive. What I didn’t know was why we were going there.

             
I glanced over my right shoulder so that I could see the three boys now stuffed into my backseat like a Polish sausage in its casing. My puzzled expression did nothing to deter the boys’ looming smirks across their mischievous guises. I turned around again and teasingly glared at Rachel, hoping by some sixth sense that she had come up with some answers in the last couple of minutes, but Rachel only shrugged her shoulders and slowly shook her head back and forth.

             
“Don’t look at me,” Rachel demanded. “I’m only along for the ride – and maybe to save you from whatever mess these boys might put you into tonight.”

             
I smiled and peered again at the boys through my rearview mirror as I slid the jeep into reverse.

             
“You guys better stay out of trouble tonight,” I said playfully as I eased the SUV into drive and pulled out of the driveway.

             
“Don’t worry, even if we don’t, at least Spiderman will save you,” the half-smiling boy spilled to me as he tried desperately to wipe the devilish smirk off of his face.

             
Will elbowed his chatty friend next to him.

             
“What does that mean?” I, now more confused than comforted, questioned the boy.

             
“Never mind him, Jules. Let’s just get to the windmill,” Will exclaimed, sending a stern glare in the direction of his blabbering partner in crime.

             
I shook off the boy’s bizarre comment and continued down the street. In less than ten minutes, we arrived at the windmill located at the southeastern edge of town. The area was mostly unlit except for the little bits of moonlight that, by now, peeked through the passing clouds every once in awhile. A small, chain-linked fence that wrapped around the windmill’s base only promised to minimally ward off trespassers. The barrier standing four feet tall was the only thing that worked to separate us from the thirty-s
omething-foot wind contraption.

             
As the jeep neared a narrow driveway, almost completely obscured by weeds, I tapped my breaks and slowly eased into the tiny, white-graveled area and brought the jeep to rest facing the windmill.

             
“Okay, now what?” Rachel protested, as she turned around to see the boys.

             
“Now, it’s time,” Will’s friend said as he and the other boy spontaneously flung their legs over the sides of the jeep and hit the ground running, leaving Will behind.

             
“They are having way too much fun with this, Jules.” Rachel said, half seriously, and turning back toward me.

             
“I know, but we’re bound to find out what this is all about soon, right?” I questioned her.

             
“Let’s just leave ‘em and go get some ice cream,” Rachel whispered.

             
“I can still hear you, Rachel,” Will said, smiling from the backseat.

             
Rachel stared at me with eyes that looked like she had just gotten caught with her hand in the brownie batter. Her face made me burst into laughter, and soon both of us were giggling contagiously.

             
In the meantime, Will had evidently set out to put his plan into motion. Reaching into the back of the SUV, he grabbed the duffle bag, walked to the back of the jeep and dropped the bag so that the rays of the taillights made it ever so visible in our dark surroundings. Then, he marched toward the tall, once-wind-powered structure and scaled the fence, as his buddies looked on from the outside.

             
“Turn your lights off, Jules, and grab your camera,” Will shouted to me. I was still sitting in the driver’s seat next to Rachel, still giggling at the sight of the three, severe-looking boys taking immediate charge of the still mysterious situation.

             
“When are you going to fill Rachel and me in on this little conspiracy of yours?” I shouted back to Will as I switched off my lights and then turned off the SUV.

             
Seconds went by with no answer, and soon it became painstakingly evident that my question had fallen into the Great Abyss. I looked at Rachel, and then, as if we both had simultaneously surrendered, I begrudgingly grabbed the camera from my center console, and we both pushed open each of our doors and slowly made our way to the boys, now standing on the opposite side of the fence, next to the base of the metal-framed tower.

             
“Okay, you ready?” Will’s friend asked, nudging Will’s arm.

             
“Almost,” Will said. He was staring at the duffle bag just barely visible in the moonlight behind the jeep as he answered
.

             
“Ready for what?” I asked innocently.

             
We were just arriving with our so-called press materials when Will leapt back over the four-foot fence and darted toward the jeep again. I wanted to ask more questions, yet I suspected that they too would inevitably fall to the unforgiving ground beneath us. And at this point, I wasn’t even exactly sure if I wanted to know the answer anyway. Instead, I remained silent, resolving to figure the rest of the mystery out on my own, as my eyes followed Will’s path back to the jeep until he finally disappeared from my site.

             
“Boys, seriously, at least tell me how long this is going to take,” Rachel questioned impatiently. “I’m leaving for this trip to my grandmother’s tomorrow, and I haven’t packed yet – not like there’s anything to pack. It’s not like there’s going to be anything to do
there or anyone to impress…”

             
“Rachel,” I whispered softly, elbowing her arm and interrupting what seemed like it was going to be an endless soliloquy.

             
I was staring at Will – or what had been Will moments ago.

             
In the moonlight, we all witnessed something straight out of the comic books. In spandex from head to toe, Will emerged from the darkness wearing a red and blue, webbed suit, complete with a spider-eyed mask. In seconds, Will had become none other than Spiderman.

             
“Will, what are you going to do,” I asked somewhat concerned, while trying to hold back wanting to laugh.

             
As I questioned Will, I watched the other two boys taking their positions on the other side of the fence. Spiderman too soon followed, easily swinging his long legs over the barricade and landing on the other side as well.

             
“Will Stephens! You are not climbing that windmill,” I scolded him as his scheme became more and more evident to me.

             
“Are you crazy, Jules? I’m not going to climb it,” he said with a crooked smile
as he motioned to his friends.

             
The boys hoisted Will to where he was just off of the ground, and Will grabbed a hold of a rusty, metal bar that connected the windmill’s two, horizontal legs.

             
“Okay, Jules, you can take the picture now,” Will shouted down from his perch. “And Ra
chel, watch for cops, will ya?”

             
My gaze went directly to Rachel, who rolled her eyes.

             
“Hey, like I said, I’m just an innocent bystander. You kidnapped me from my home thirty minutes ago. I’m seeing nothing, and when you drop me off at home tonight, I will have seen nothing,” Rachel replied, smiling back at my questioning look. “How would I explain this anyway?”

             
I laughed at Rachel’s remark and turned my eyes back onto my boyfriend illegally climbing a big windmill for no real, apparent reason.

             
“You look ridiculous,” I said to Will as I surrendered playfully and reached for the camera in my jacket’s pocket and aimed the lens toward Spiderman. “
Let’s just get this over with.”