Death by Facebook (5 page)

Push
me? I spun once and then I could see her again, this time up on her
elbows watching me. Her eyes were big and orange. I was surprised,
but more confused. Why would she push me, why would she...

There
wasn't much more I thought about that. Suddenly, I was enveloped in
the plume and a moment after that I fell into the hot pudding like
surface of the lava and for just a microsecond thought one last
thing...this was going to hurt.

But,
it didn't.

7

The
Jagger Museum, perched perfectly above the immense Kilauea caldera
and the Hale'ma'uma'u pit, protected Ranger Jack Clovis and Larry
Larson from the rain squall moving in from the east. It was late,
well past midnight. The museum was closed.

“
How
many did you count coming out, Larry?”

“
Looked
like five to me, how many did you see going in?” Larry put down
the Class 3 Infrared binoculars.

“
Five,
but that was the first group. The second group I think I saw just
two.” Ranger Clovis took the binoculars back and looked to the
pit again.

The
rain was pelting the steel roof of the museum. It was difficult to
talk with the racket.

“
Damn
rain is hiding my view now, even with your fancy Class 3, Larry.”

“
Yeah,
well, it's not made to see through tons of water, Jack.”

The
rain was just reaching the edge of the pit as Jack pushed the button
again, sending out a laser signal to bounce off anything that might
reflect back a heat signature. Of course, close to the plume
everything was ghostly white.

“
I
see someone, I think. Near the edge.” He peered carefully,
holding the binoculars steady on his arms, themselves resting on the
wooden counter. “Yep, one. Leaving the edge and heading...”
He put the binoculars down. “Into the rain.”

“
Yeah,
we'll never see the second guy now.” Larry groaned. “That
doesn't mean he's not there, right?” No one wanted to wake up
a bunch of people to do a late night wild goose chase. Both of them
knew that the crazy fools that might march up to the mouth of hell
itself must assume the risks.

“
Not
unless we get a call.” Jack looked over at his long time
friend Larry, and winked. “Unofficial policy these days.
Unless someone calls in a missing person, we just let it play. Not
enough budget these days to go around chasing crazy people.”
Jack looked back now toward the pit, completely obscured by the
driving rain. “Now if it was regular hours, we would have a
couple of Rangers meet them at the trail head with ticket books.”
Jack put his feet up on the counter and leaned back in his ancient
office chair. “But, I'm off duty, and you got cold beer, so in
my humble opinion...”

“
Let
sleeping dogs lie,” they both said at the same time.

~~~

Janet's
heart, she was remembering, was beating so hard in her chest she
could see it bouncing raindrops right off of her bare skin. She had
retreated a few feet from the edge of the pit, but had to fall back
to her hands and knees as she vomited, over and over. Naked, afraid
and completely in the dark, she felt her body convulsing and sobbing.
Looking down at the black cinder, where her long red hair, matted
with vomit and tears was reflecting the glow behind her, she heard
something coming. Loud, insistent and pounding the ground with an
incredible force. Rain. Torrential tropical raindrops the size of
hail. Just as she struggled to her feet, the rush of wind being
forced out of the way by the downpour hit her full in the face. She
almost fell back, and for a moment, terrified she was so close to the
pit, she screamed.

The
lava behind her screamed as well with the onslaught of cold water
pummeling it. More steam rushed up and out, increasing the roar in
her ears. The roar enjoined with her own heart pounding, her horror
at having actually thrown me into the lava and her now increasing
terror at being alone, naked and cold. Her mind was on edge, flooded
with a chemical especially reserved for fear.

Adrenaline.
Nature's organic version of amphetamines. The one chemical that is
solely responsible for the survival of the human species. Besides
its obvious super power properties it has a far more important
quality, memory enhancement. When a human brain is flooded with
adrenaline it remembers everything, every nuance, every smell, every
single detail, visually. No doubt by design or happy coincidence
this allowed early humans to avoid that which had almost killed them
the previous time. It also produces euphoria in smaller doses,
known as the “runner's high” which encourages endurance
and motivates excellence. Some people find it in athletics but many
find it in the pursuit of power, in the conquest of what they desire.
It has propelled us from the trees to the stars.

It
also imprints upon our psyches that which can never be forgotten.
Janet was discovering this as she began the long march toward
justification and Cabin #94. I could sense it deep inside her even
as she made excuses for what I now know was murder. Her guilt was
eating her alive, much like the lava had done to me, just slower.

She
must have been a sight, climbing out of that crater, up through the
jungle ferns in a darkness made deeper by torrential rain showers.
Perhaps it hid her nakedness well. It no doubt had washed much of
the blood from her lacerated hands. Her flashlight, still by the
door, was stained with it even now.

The
sadness that moved me now was catastrophic. The woman that I loved,
the soul mate I thought I had, the future of my dreams had led me
like an animal to slaughter. Her entire idea to visit Hawaii and the
volcano was calculated to incinerate every trace of both me and her
crime. She had talked me into another enlistment, despite my
reluctance, just to get the money to pull it all off.

I
watched her now with a fascination beyond my capacity to control.
How could this creature, this horrible creature have done this to me?
Why? I had seen murderous men in Afghanistan, seen our own soldiers
take some pleasure in shooting bad guys, but nothing as devious as
this appeared to be. She had enticed me to the guillotine with the
promise of sex no less. There must be a special place in hell for
such creativity.

However
much I despised what I now knew, I found empathy toward her, her
loneliness and her desperation. It was a flaw of my own soul I
suppose, but it was a fact nonetheless. I didn't understand her but
I still loved her, some part of her, somewhere.

Janet
had finally stopped crying and climbed up out of the embrace of the
couch. Immediately she opened the refrigerator and grabbed two cans
of beer, opening them both. She opened her laptop and after a moment
her email, still on screen. She found the reply from her friend and
began to answer her.

To:
Amy Gingerhouse

From:
Janet Ashbury

Subject:
RE: My Hawaiian Vacation

Amy,
sorry to hear it's so cold in NH. It's actually chilly here as well,
but only because we are at something like 4000 feet. I have my
fireplace going, do you?

You
are the first one I am telling this to, so please keep it a secret.
I haven't told anyone about your Uncle messing with you. That's
because you asked me not to, but also because I can understand it now
as well.

Jimmy,
my fiancé, my lover, my hope for the future turned out to be
even more than that. He is my brother as well. And, he knew it all
along! What a creep, I just can't believe it.

He
was adopted, just like me. We all went to different families. I
guess our parents were pretty screwed up. Anyhow, we had a
connection to each other that we confused for infatuation when it
must have been whatever it is siblings have. My God!

I
found out from our other stupid brother on Facebook, Frank. I was
reading Jimmy's Wall postings one night. Frank had found Jimmy and
posted something on his Wall, instead of a direct message. How many
people have made that mistake? Everybody can read Wall posts, duh!
Anyhow, Jimmy was telling him about me, posted my picture and such.
Frank recognized me and warned Jimmy. Frank was old enough to
remember us, Jimmy and I were just little kids.

Typical
Jimmy though, he ignored it, just like everything else he doesn't
want to deal with. He simply discounts those things he doesn't want
to believe. You would think he was grossed out, but no, not Jimmy.
He was in love, for God's sake.

Well,
anyhow, we are NOT together anymore and once I get over the disgust
and stop VOMITTING I will give you a call.

Janet

8

I
had been watching her write that email. Something inside of me
screamed out for a little compassion. She could have just left me,
could have had me arrested. Shit! Why throw me in a boiling lake of
lava? That was hateful beyond what I might ever understand.

She
had now finished the second beer and was headed back to the
refrigerator for more, two more. Pop. Pop. And, she went for my
laptop this time, booting it up and opening Facebook.

It
took a few minutes on the slow WiFi connection to bring up the
newsfeed, but it finally did and I had something like 36
notifications and 16 messages. Whoa! A record. Being dead sure did
a lot for one's popularity.

Janet
took her time reading every one of the comments and all of the
messages. Many of them were worried friends expressing either
outrage or compassion at “my post” that Janet had made.
They varied from pissed off about me declaring my death to
philosophical interpretations of what I might have “killed”
off. There were a couple of wise ass comments though, like “Good
luck” and another from a friend of a friend I didn't really
know but had accepted anyhow. He said “Good riddance”.
Of course, he was still in the war and probably had no time for false
declarations about what he saw multiple times a day.

Despite
being upset with Janet for having killed me, I did find it
interesting that people were concerned for me, and I kind of liked
the fact that “I” had posted my own death notice on
Facebook. That was sorta cool actually.

When
I had been deep in-country, hiding in small holes or caves from
snipers in the dark I had wondered what my obituary would say. I had
envisioned a newspaper clipping that Mom, my adopted Mom, would have
on her desk. But, actually, Facebook was better. Here people were
saying good things about me. And, you didn't have to travel to some
remote military cemetery to read about it.

Three
days after Janet had pushed me over the edge, some people were still
writing comments below “my” original announcement of:

Jimmy
Turner:
“
I
just wanted to let you all know that I am dead.”

Comment
number 18 or so started a trend away from the anger and surprise.
Dozens were following that as well.

Alice
of Atlanta:
“
Well,
if no one else has the courage to say it, I will. Jimmy was a great
guy! I will miss him forever. Especially the way he used to look at
me when I told stupid jokes, like I was completely out of my mind.
I'll miss that the most.”