The Lawn Killer

Part One

Gray Hill - 1993

The first summer I came to Gray Hill to stay with my dad was after my parents divorce. Once the games and comic books got old, the only thing left was to explore. There was no rich side of town because everyone was poor and by the end of the first weekend I felt that I had seen it all. I hated that first summer, however my dad grew up there and had his rose tinted glasses on.

There was nothing to do in that town. Even though there was a lake and people had docks as well as boats, no one used them. Now that I think about it I never saw anyone swim in Dead Horse Lake.

That winter my mother died and I had to stay with my dad full time.

I wasn’t popular in school and people ignored me for the most part. In my class there were seven of us, and I don’t most of them knew my name. I never tried out for sports and I sang like a chainsaw, so I never felt there was room for me in that small town.

The second summer I stayed in Gray Hill, there was a brand new gaming console being released, The Master Sphere and I had to have it. Much to my dissatisfaction my dad told me that I would have to pay for it myself. Being nearly eleven I complained and asked why. He said it was to build character and I still know what people mean when they say this.

Thankfully my dad’s future wife, Linda, set me up with a job mowing lawns by putting up an ad in the local newspaper, Whisper Alley Echos. The pay was horrible, summers in Gray Hill were a wet blanket of humidity, and the mosquitos and ticks were the worst I ever experienced. However I really needed this gaming console.

It was the end of July when Miss Luther called the house to offer me a job. My dad was the one who answered the phone and agreed that I would start the next morning at six. I wasn’t too thrilled with waking up at that time, however when he told me that Miss Luther was filthy rich, wanted me on retainer and explained what “on retainer” meant, I couldn’t wait to go.

The next morning my dad made me some hot chocolate in a thermos and a few snacks for my shift. He was so excited for me that he reminded me of a kid on Christmas day. He told me that when he was my age the construction of Miss Luthers house was big news and that morning was going to be the first day he would get a chance to see it.

On the way to Miss Luther’s house I asked dad what people did for jobs in Gray Hill but I don’t think he knew for sure because as he tried to explain, it became the origins of the town. Apparently Gray Hill used to be a mining town but then the business went under. After that it was a logging town but that business went up in flames. Since then the town just sort of sat there, stagnant.

I didn’t know what stagnant meant and I didnt ask.

When I asked what Miss Luther did, dad smiled and told me that was one of the biggest and best secrets in Gray Hill.

After a mile or so after Fortune Summer Camp, dad pulled into a driveway I didnt even notice was there. A short while later though the road became wider and more noticeable. This place was once beautiful but over the years of no one taking care of the property, nature was fighting like hell to take it back. Gnarled trees lined both sides of the road, there was a swamp to my left and a field of grass as tall as corn on my right.

To my surprise my dad told me that when he was a kid the swamp was a lake and there was something called a vivarium in the field of grass.

When I asked what a vivarium was, dad told me it was a place where plants and animals that don’t live in this climate can live.

“What kind of animals?” I asked.

My dad didn’t know and shrugged. “If you work hard and don’t slack off, you are going to find out,” he said with a smile. I could see that he was excited for me and wished that he was in my shoes.

A short while later we approached a large and very intimidating iron gate. My father whistled when he saw it, then parked next to a large stone and pushed a call button. When it was answered, no one spoke.

“Hello?” my dad asked, but before he could say anything else the gate started to creak open. “Welcome to the lifestyle of the rich and famous” my dad said in a terrible Robin Leach impression before pulling away.

Past the gate, the grass was as tall as corn. Seeing it made me regret agreeing to work for Miss Luther. This feeling was forgotten the moment I saw the mansion. I didn’t think my dad was serious when he told me about it. I though I had seen everything in that small town so it was the last thing I expected to see in Gray Hill.

The building was huge. In some places it was three stories tall and in others it was five. With all the gargoyles that were perched on the roof it reminded me of something Bruce Wayne would live in. There was a dried up fountain next to the driveway with two sets of steps that half encircled it. In the middle of the fountain was something that looked like a crane, though it’s hard to say for certain because the years had not been kind to it.

“Holy poop,” my father said as he slowed down in order to take in the sight. He hadn’t been able to stop talking about Miss Luther since he answered the phone the night before. She was the talk of the town when he was younger than me so as far as he was concerned, this was a long time coming.

Before I could do or say anything, a man walked out of the garage and waved us over. The man, as I later discovered, was far younger than he appeared. He wore a dirty white shirt that was stained yellow from sweat and grease covered overalls. He was tall and lean, but one look at him and you could tell he was strong. His arms were like tightly woven steel cables wrapped around itself. He kept his hair short but it was clear he was balding and his skin was leathery and beat red from the sun. In between his lip and gums was a large pinch of chew.

When my dad pulled up next to him, he rolled down the window. “Hey, here to drop off my boy,” he said with a smile.

The man nodded but it was clear that he either didn’t care or already knew that. Perhaps both?

“Say hi, son.”

“Hi,” I said with a wave.

The man leaned down to look at me. I don’t think he was impressed. There was an awkward silence that lasted only a moment but it felt much longer. “Alright” the man said. “Come on, now. Don’t dawdle.”

I looked at dad for encouragement because I was nervous but he didn’t notice and got out of the car to follow the man. I was quick to follow.

“My name is Peter” my dad said to the man’s back.

“Otis.”

“Any chance I can get a tour of the place, Otis?” my dad asked. “I’ve been hearing about this place since I was a kid.”

The man groaned. “Not my place to say yes. But, I can tell you that this is the garage.”

Disappointed that he wouldn’t get a tour, my dad made a pouting face and said “It’s just that this is the first time I ever came here.”

“Loses its luster real quick” Otis said.

My dad waited for Otis to say more but Otis wasn’t planning on elaborating.

As soon as I entered the garage I saw a large yellow behemoth with black and white lettering that read “Lawn Killer 9000”. It looked like a woodchipper on six wheels with an enclosed cab on top of it. Whoever made it must have really hated their yard.

“I didn’t know he was going to be using a riding lawnmower,” my dad chuckled.

The man spit a large brown gob on the dirt floor. “Yeah, well. I didn’t know his dad was going to hold his hand the whole time.”

My dad was at a loss of words but I couldn’t help but to smile at that comment.

“Isn’t it a bit dangerous for someone his age?” my dad asked.

Otis scoffed. “How? He will be sitting on it. The dangerous part is this” he answered as he pointed at the front of the Lawn Killer 9000.

My dad nodded, slowly seeing the sense of it. “Well, I guess I should be going,” he said as he placed his hand on my shoulder. “Son, I want you to work hard and be respectful.”

I nodded.

“Good” dad said before speaking again to Otis. “Do you know how long he is going—”

“We’ll call you, how about that?” Otis said, impatiently.

Dad nodded. “Alright. Well, I guess I’m off. Be good” he said as he rustled my hair and went to the car before driving off.

“Ever drive one of these before?” Otis asked, using his thumb to point at the Lawn Killer 9000. I shook my head so Otis explained everything to me after telling me to climb in and to get the feel of it. “I want you to go slow. Like, a quarter of walking speed, okay?” Otis asked.

“Sure” I answered, excited that I got to drive, even if it’s just a lawnmower.

“Good. Now come” Otis said, waving me to follow him to the workbench. I did as I was asked and when I got to Otis’ side he pointed at a hand drawn map of Miss Luther’s estate. “See this? I want you to mow G-7 and G-8. Can you do that?”

I looked closer at the map to determine where that was and found that both squares were surrounding the garage. “Sure” I answered.

“Good. Now get in and give me a minute to get ready.”

I hopped in the lawnmower and watched as Otis got ready. First he put on what looked to be hockey pads then he soaked a cloth in a yellowish green liquid and wiped himself off with it.

“What’s that?”

“Jalapeno juice” he answered as he wiped himself with the cloth.

“Why?”

“Cover.”

Disappointed that he didn’t answer my question I covered my mouth like he said and watched as Otis tied the cloth around his neck and put on a helmet with a glass visor that reminded me of something a member of SWAT would wear. He then walked over to a closet and pulled out a bandelier full of shotgun shells and a pump action shotgun.

“Forgot to mention this,” Otis said, racking a shell. “Don’t get out of the lawnmower unless I say so, okay?”

I nodded.

“Good” Otis said before running out of the garage and into the grass that had to have been three feet taller than he was.

I started the lawnmower and was startled by how loud it was. When I put the lawnmower in drive I did what Otis instructed and drove slowly. I was impressed with how much damage the Lawn Killer 9000 was capable of. Everything I ran over turned into mulch.

The next time I saw Otis it was maybe half an hour later. He was running and ducking in the long grass, to me he looked like a soldier stalking the enemy in Vietnam.

At first I though he might have been stalking me and I became worried, but then I remembered the wise words one of my teachers said to me: “Life will be a whole lot easier if you did the opposite of what you think you should do.”

As soon as I remembered that nugget of wisdom I felt better.

It wasn’t long after that I really had to pee. I was tempted to ask for a break but then I remembered that my father told me to work hard, so I held it until it started to hurt. Thankfully not long after that Otis leaped out of the grass, narrowly missing the front of the lawnmower, to tell me to stop.

“Why?” I asked, scared that I did something wrong.

“How we doing on gas?”

I looked at the gauge. “Half.”

Otis grunted and nodded. “You’re out of salt.”

“Salt?” I asked.

Instead of answering me Otis told me to drive back into the garage. I did as he told me and parked where I first saw the Lawn Killer 9000 so Otis could fill up the bucket that sat behind me with a large white tube that was filled with salt. It was then I saw that on the back of the Lawn Killer 9000 was a sifter that spread the salt, similar to plows during the winter.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” I asked, looking around for a restroom but finding none.

“Sure” Otis answered, leading me to a small shed. “Don’t explore any. Come right back.”

“Okay.”

Otis nodded and walked away. When I opened the door to the shed I was thankful that I didn’t have to sit down.

When I finished peeing I returned to Otis and quietly watched as he cut open a white tube and dumped the salt into the bucket. On the third tube I decided to ask Otis what the salt was used for.

“It’s for the grass,” Otis answered without looking at me.

“Does it help it grow?”

Otis looked at me this time and it took a few moments before he spoke. “No.”

“Ah” I said, pretending to understand. “So how long have you worked here?” I asked.

“Four years? Three?” Otis answered.

“Cool” I answered.

After another two tubes of salt were dumped into the bucket Otis walked to the back of the garage, opened a small fridge and pulled out a glass bottle of off brand Ginger Ale.

“Want one?” Otis asked.

“Sure” I answered and took the one Otis offered me.

We sipped on our beverages and didn’t speak for a long time.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” I asked.

“Nope,” Otis answered before burping and tossing the bottle into a basket where it shattered on impact. “Ready?”

I finished the last few drops of the ginger ale and smiled. “Yup” I answered enthusiastically.

Otis gave an odd looking smile and shook his head. “Alright then” he said before putting back on his helmet and ran out of the garage to disappear into the grass, shotgun in hand.

I made a mental note to ask him about that on the next break.

Maybe an hour later of going around and around in circles I saw an old man in a pinstripe suit, walking down the steps near the fountain and heading straight for me. His skin was gray and wrinkly, with dark bags under his eyes. In his hands was a silver serving tray.

As soon as the man got to the gravel driveway, Otis ran out of the grass and headed straight towards the man. Again he narrowly avoided being turned into mulch by the Lawn Killer 9000.

Before I could yell or do anything, Otis shouted over the sound of the engine to drive over to him and the old man.

The sight of this man made me nervous. He reminded me of the mortician guy from that one movie. The one with the flying balls with knives.

Under the serving tray was a pile of finger sandwiches and Otis was inhaling them.

When I put the Lawn Killer in park and turned off the engine I could hear the man say “Leave some for the boy, Otis.”

I hopped out of the cab and felt twenty degrees cooler. I didn’t know how hot I was until that moment.

Each of the sandwiches were made with marble rye bread, pickles, a weird onion cheese and what might have been jerky, but I didn’t ask.

“Hi” I said to the man as I grabbed the closest sandwich.

The man just looked at me.

I took a bite, didn’t like it, but faked it because I didn’t want to be rude.

“Thank you” I said.

Otis took a few more sandwiches before making his way back to the garage. “Yeah, thanks Grover.”

I never thought I would meet a butler, the fact his name was Grover was even more amazing.

“Don’t mind Otis,” Grover sighed. “What he lacks in manners he makes up for in efficiency.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Would you like something to drink?” Grover asked.

“Pepsi?”

“We don’t have any.”

“Coke?”

“We don’t partake in those unsavory habits.”

“Lemonade?”

“Ugh” Grover groaned before walking away.

“Oi?” Otis shouted from the garage. “Park by the gas” Otis said, pointing at an old fashioned gas pump next to the garage.

I did what I was told, hopped in the Lawn Killer and drove it over to where Otis was waiting.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked after killing the engine.

“Sure” Otis said as he was struggling with the ancient nozzle.

“Did you say ‘Oi’?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“Cuts through the noise. You don’t hear that often in the states.”

I nodded. “Were you,” I started, not knowing how to finish this question. “Were you following me with the shotgun?”

“Yeah” Otis answered, not looking at me but I could tell he didn’t seem all that interested or saw the issue with it.

“Why?”

“You do your job, let me do mine” Otis said as he got the nozzle to work.

“What do you do?” I asked.

“Hunt. Trap.”

“Cool” I said. “What do you hunt?”

“All sorts of things.”

“Is that why you brought a gun with you into the grass?”

“Yup” Otis nodded as he inspected the birds in the sky.

“Can I shoot the gun?” I asked after a while.

“No.”

There was a long moment before Otis turned off the nozzle and hung it back up. In that pregnant silence I felt like he was judging me.

“Alright. Now do this side of the garage” Otis said, pointing behind him.

“Yes sir” I said with a salute that didn’t go over well from the look on his face. He hawked a large glob of brown chewing tobacco on the ground before putting on his helmet and walking into the grass, shotgun in hand.

I started the Lawn Killer 9000 and started doing the section Otis told me to do.

Even though I was hot and thirsty I was having fun. After all this was the first time I had ever driven something other than my bike.

Perhaps ten minutes later I remembered the drink Grover was supposed to bring out and that was the moment something large slammed into the glass to my left.

Whatever it was, it was as large as a catcher’s mitt and looked like an angry cockroach. Before I could get a good look at it however, there was a loud bang and the bug exploded. Through the green blood and the birdshot embedded in the glass, I saw Otis racking another shell into the chamber, a big grin on his face.

I was close to stopping the lawn mower, but when I remembered what my dad said about working hard and my teacher’s sage advice about not listening to my instincts, I kept driving.

At this point I was so dehydrated that I couldn’t tell you how much time passed before I was done with the section that Otis wanted me to do. Judging by the suns position I guessed it had to have been about one in the afternoon. By this point I had completely forgotten about Otis firing his shotgun in my direction.

The first thing I said after getting out of the Lawn Killers cab was “I thought Grover was going to bring something to drink.”

“Are you okay?” Otis asked, ignoring my comment.

I squeezed my eyebrows together, wondering what he meant. In hindsight I know I wasn’t thinking right because I was in need of water. “Yeah. Why?”

“What do you think about your first day?”

“I like it” I answered, not knowing what else to say.

Otis laughed. “You’re like a baby panda, you know that?”

I had no idea what he meant by this, but I assumed it was an insult. Then I remembered that a different teacher of mine told me that if I had a thought, I should do the opposite. So I smiled and asked him what that meant.

“Baby pandas don’t have a survival instinct, and you are fearless,” Otis laughed while patting me on the shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“Okay kid” Otis said, kneeling to get down to my level. “Some ground rules if you want to work here. First, never go in the grass. Second, never go near the grass. Third, do exactly what I say. If I say jump, you say how high. Got it?”

“Yeah” I nodded.

“Good. Your first day is done. Go to the house. I’m sure Miss Luther will have your money for you.”

“The house?” I asked, nervous about going into the mansion. I had never been in one before and didn’t know if there were rules or not. Did I leave my shoes at the door? Did I bow to Miss Luther?

“Yeah, go” Otis answered.

I thought the dried up fountain was strange when I first saw it but it was nothing compared to the black iron knocker on the door. It was a bird of some kind but one that came out of someones most vivid nightmare.

I didn’t want to touch it so instead I pulled open the thick heavy door and walked inside.

The foyer was as large as my house and on the far side there was a grand staircase, directly above the landing was a green and yellow stained glass window so warped by the sun that whatever image once shined through was now unrecognizable. Underfoot was a dusty checkered tiled floor with large black and white squares with footprints in the dust. On each side of the room were statues of naked people every ten feet apart, most were broken but some were in perfect condition. Between the statues were paintings which depicted brutal battles between cowboys and Indians in perfect clarity, including a native woman in a small cage, her belly torn open and forced to eat her own intestines as cowboys were sitting around the campfire cooking something over a fire. In another painting there was a man getting his eyes pecked out by crows as he tried to fight them off the best he could even though his hands were tied behind him, around a tree. I didn’t look long enough to know what else there was because I get scared easily.

I will tell you right now that everytime I went into that room I would do all I could not to look at the paintings.

“Do you like the job?” asked a woman. By her voice I knew she was old and didn’t care one way or the other. She was only asking to be nice. The echoes in the house caused me to be a little slow to locate her but when I did she stood under the large stained glass window. She had to have been over one hundred years old but something about her puckered face, light brown hair which was pulled too tightly back told me that she would outlive everyone I know. She was all skin and bones and was wearing a delicate tight green dress that seemed nearly see through. In her hand was a martini glass and with each step or gesture the jewelry she wore around her neck would sparkle and jingle.

“Yes, maam” I answered with a smile.

“Good. It’s hard finding good workers” she said. “Are you thirsty?”

I nodded.

“Go to your left and keep going straight. Through the door is the kitchen. Find yourself a glass in one of the cupboards, get yourself something to drink and join me upstairs in my library” she said as she was walking away.

I did as I was told, first passing a large empty room where parties must have been held. On the wall was a mural of a fox hunt but the wall seemed to focus mostly on a man that had a large comedic mustache riding a horse.

I didn’t take too much time to analyze it because I was a guest in this house so I picked up the pace and made my way to the kitchen by pushing open a door which swung back shut behind me. The room was so large that if the cups were not already on the counter drying off from the last time they were cleaned it would have taken forever to find them.

I drank two glasses before filling up the cup a third time, this time bringing it with me as I went upstairs to join Miss Luthor.

As I reached the top of the steps I went in the direction I saw Miss Luthor was heading. On my right through the grimy windows that reached the ceiling I saw the backyard, it was just as wild as the front but with more flowers.

There was some movement that caught my eye as I was looking at the strange three petaled flowers so I turned to look. I was surprised to see that it was a woman with a large worn straw hat, a green shirt, blue jean shorts and gardening gloves. She stood up, took off her hat, revealing her brown hair and wiped her forehead.

I was a kid at the time and hormones were making me even dumber than I was before, but whoever this woman was I was head over heels over her.

Quickly remembering what I was doing upstairs I kept walking in what I hoped was the direction of the library. The long hallway curved gently and after thirty or forty yards it straightened out. I really wanted to explore, even for a minute.

I walked briskly down the hall and was shocked when I saw her library. It was far bigger than the one at school that was for sure. It even had a ladder on wheels and a second story. A third in some places. In the middle of the room was a large mechanical something I didn’t recognize so I looked at it trying to work it out in my mind.

“Its an orrery” Miss Luthor said as she looked down on me from the second library floor over the railing.

“A what?” I asked, finding her quickly. Able to see her through the decorative grate floor anyone on the second floor would walk on.

“A model of the solar system, showing what the alignment will be on October 19^th 2017 at exactly four forty two in the morning” she answered. “Nevermind that though, come up here”.

Again I did as I was told, though it was hard to climb the ladder with the glass in my hand and I wondered how the old woman managed to do it with her martini.

Miss Luthor was sitting on a torn red leather chair when I managed to pull myself up and as I approached her I felt a sudden sense of fear. It looked as though she was sizing me up for something.

“Have a seat” she said, not motioning in any direction.

I looked around but I did not see a chair, so I sat on the ground.

“How do you like the job?”

“I love it” I answered with a smile.

“And the lawnmower? Is it doing the job?”

“And how” I exclaimed, thinking of how much dirt and grass went flying into the air when I drove it.

“Good” Miss Luthor said before she pulled on a rope that was hanging from the ceiling. It made a loud sound far away and a few seconds later through the decorated metal grate floor I saw Grover come into the library.

“You called, madam?” he asked from below us.

“Fetch this boy his payment for a job well done” Miss Luther said without taking her eyes off of me the entire time which weirded me out more than anything I had seen so far.

“Yes, madam,” Grover said and left us.

Miss Luther’s glare was ice but I resisted shivering and somehow I succeeded. How can a woman this old be so scary?

“Can you come back tomorrow, boy?” Miss Luther asked and took another sip of her drink.

“Yes ma’am” I said, remembering my manners.

“Good” she answered. A few long moments passed before Grover came back into the room and climbed the ladder as graceful as a cat before handing Miss Luther her checkbook.

“Thank you Grover” she said coldly as she took the items from Grovers hands. “Does twelve hundred sound fair?” Miss Luther asked.

If I had been drinking the water at the time I would have spit it out when she asked. Instead I said “Hell yes!” With that much money I could get a gaming console for every room of the house if I wanted to.

Miss Luther did not smile at this. She just made out the check and handed it to me. I stared at it for the longest time not believing that I just got paid this much for one days work.

“Call the boys father, Grover. Inform him that his son is done. After you do that make him another sandwich” Miss Luther ordered.

Remembering the last sandwich Grover gave me I said “No thank you, I am not hungry”.

Miss Luther looked at me oddly. “Do you want some more pickle juice?” she asked, motioning with her head towards my empty glass.

“It was water, actually”.

“We have pickle juice if you prefer,” Miss Luther said.

“No, thank you but no” I answered.

Miss Luther handed me the check and gave Grover an eighth of an inch nod.

“This way, young man” Grover said and made his way to the ladder. I stood up and thanked Miss Luther but she didn’t seem to notice me and took another sip from her glass.

I looked down at the check and grinned like an idiot.