The girls were scared, the boys were yelling out 'Hullo!' and 'Anyone there?' and 'Mind if we make ourselves at home?'. They weren't quite as big as I remembered them anymore, and I saw Mark standing on one of the fallen bench-trees. He was grinning from ear to ear, and the other boys were throwing lots of wood on the fire so that it raged up so high I thought they might burn down the forest.

I though about my dad. I pictured him working in his garage in town where he fixed cars, working late on a Friday night one week before Halloween. I imagined that he heard a knock at the door and he answered it because sometimes people have trouble with their cars, and my dad was always helping everyone, and he used to take me camping, and he used to read to me, and he used to go trick-or-treating with me on Halloween.

Then I thought I saw him open the door and the cowards who robbed him dragged him into the garage and tied him up, and someone took out a knife. There was only twenty-seven dollars and fourteen cents in the till, god-damnit! That wasn't even as much as my tent, and now they had that too!

Mark was pouring beer down his throat, as were the others, and the girls were cooing, and rubbing up against the boys, and the boys were groping with their hands, and everything seemed so red I thought I was drowning, and then someone said, "Here, use this."

But it was behind me.

My arms and legs and teeth went numb, and I thought I would pee myself as my bladder heaved and my penis moved in my long-johns. I turned slowly around and looked at the little girl in the dirty dress with the pale skin and sunken eyes, and a deep, bloodless gash across her throat from ear to ear.

"Here, use this," she said, and held out her small hand and offered me a knife with a wooden handle and a snake on the hilt.