There were twelve of them, teenagers, fresh into Summer vacation. They knew of a clearing in the New England woods that was just far enough away from their small town, for privacy’s sake. After some cajoling and some lying to the various parents, six boys and six girls, armed with a few six packs of courage and a radio, drove into the mountains.
It was early evening when they made it. The clearing boasted three sitting logs, invariably carved with the initials of previous visitors. The logs surrounded an old fire pit, the only witness to the evening’s fun. The teens got a fire started, passed around the liquid fun, paired off, and with the airy scent of pine and the crackling of the fire, prepared for whatever happens next.
The sun had set, not that you would notice with so many trees surrounding the clearing. One of the boys, not wanting to leave the warmth of his date, but having a dire need, stepped into the woods to relieve himself.
And then there were eleven.
Arid Testimony 