Thumbs McGhee

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

Kevin was startled awake by the shimmering glow of the candle as he opened his eyes, his vision hazy, adjusting to the light. He'd never been drunk before, but he imagined this was what it would feel like. He had the vague feeling of being misplaced, waking up without knowing where he was.

He looked around the space he now found himself. Wood columns lined the walls surrounding him that were adorned with cobwebs. A cast iron stove was to the right of the table that had the candle on it. From it he caught a whiff of rusted iron coming from it, he felt heat radiating from the stove as well. Which brought his attention to his sweat stained shirt. He went to raise his hands to wipe the sweat from his brow, when hammering pain radiated from both of his hands. He groaned in agony, he looked down to his hands in horror. His hands were hogtied to the arms of the chair he sat in; his wrist’s lined black and blue from the pressure of the ropes. That wasn't the worst part. The metallic odor he was smelling wasn't from the stove, it was from the blood stained bandages covering the flesh where his thumbs once were.

He moaned in horror, hollering for anyone to help. He was met by the force of a cast iron skillet to the back of the head, and darkness.

**********************************************************************

Three days earlier

Kevin, Brock, and Michael were rolling their bikes home after their last day of school. It likely would be the last Summer the three would be riding bikes around. Drivers training would be around the corner for them, and then the bikes would be a thing of the past, cast out in place of cars.

The three were known as the popular boys in their school, the jocks of all the jocks, captains of the baseball team. Kevin broke the trance of their walk first. “Y'all ready for tomorrow?”

Brock answered with his deep voice, “Yeah, those douches at Christian don't know what I got for them.”

Michael added, “Yeah a bunch of balls!”

The boys laughed, then they saw another target of which they could gain laughter.

There fixing his bike chain on the side of the road was Eugene McGhee, or as the boys, and well everyone in the school called him, “Thumbs” McGhee. This was due to his being born without thumbs. He was a gangly boy with messy jet black hair, and very much in need of braces; though that was something his family would never be able to afford.

Thumbs seemed to notice the boys coming up across the street and nervously avoided eye contact.

Brock initiated the attack first, “Hey THUMBS, I bet it's kind of hard to fix a bike chain without thumbs. Need some help?”

Eugene didn't answer, he just remained focused on his task.

Michael, giggled like a hyena, “hey give a thumbs up if you need help buddy.”

That was the running joke the boys made up about Eugene, and thus everyone at school would give him a thumbs up as a cruel game.

Eugene ignored them which only egged the three on more.

Brock gained ground on him, shoving him in the back.

“We're talking to you freak! It's rude to ignore someone when they offer help” Eugene tripped into his bike knocking it to the ground.

He first turned with a flash of anger on his sunken face, but it subsided and he lowered his head.

“I don't want any trouble.” He raised two thumbless hands in submission.

Michael and Brock got almost chest to chest with Thumbs forcing him backward more.

Kevin intervened, “c'mon guys lets leave him alone I gotta get home for supper.”

Thumbs looked at Kevin, with a glint of hope in his eyes.

Michael nodded, “lets go yeah, but first Eugene give us a thumbs up and we will leave you alone.”

Eugene looked at them, his pale face glowing red.

“Give us a thumbs up Gene and we'll leave you alone." Brock parroted.

Thumbs shifted his feet awkwardly and to the surprise of the boys raised his right hand, but he put his index finger behind it, mimicking where his thumb would be.

Thumbs smiled meekly at them.

The three boys exchanged looks before laughing like a pack of animals.

“Hey that's pretty good, counts for me guys lets go.” Kevin said between giggles.

Brock snorted before his laughter subsided. “That's pretty good? Yeah for a damn retard. Sorry Thumbs I don't know what your momma told you but that finger is NOT a thumb. Let me help with your bike.”

Brock then lifted Thumbs bike above his broad shoulders before throwing it into a watery ditch. Thumbs started to go after it, before Michael exclaimed picking up a handful of pebbles,“Hey whaddya fellas say we get some practice in for tomorrow.”

And then without hesitation he peppered Eugene with a handful of the stones.

Eugene cried out in obvious pain. “Stop!”

Brock mimicked Eugene's high pitched voice. “Ow stop! Run Thumbs run! We need practice.” Thumbs stumbled falling to his hands as he ran away from the boys.

Kevin held the handful of stones in hesitation before showering Thumbs with a hail of pebbles as well.

The boys laughed as they continued home before splitting their separate ways. Kevin walked home full of guilt. He had messed with Eugene before but never like that. Little did he know this was the last straw, or the last stone cast in this case.

*************************************

Brock pulled his bike into his garage, the sun was just starting to cascade to where the mercury light was flickering awake above his famiy’s three car garage.

He took note that the garage was empty, odds are a long night of work for both his parents. He sighed, making his way to the front door of his house, he stopped at a sudden rustling in the bushes.

He looked around, probably just a rabbit or the mercury light kicking on. He thought.

He started to take a few more steps closer to the door when he heard it again, unmistakably something sizable in the bushes.

“Who's there ?” he muttered. The bush shook as if something incredibly large was in it.

“I'll kick your ass whoever you are!”

The bush stopped moving all together, Brock was moving away from it and as soon as he turned his back he heard one last shuffling. By the time he turned, the next thing he knew it felt as though a sledgehammer hit him directly in the ankle,making him plummet to the ground in sheer pain. He was only able to let out a half cry before he was hit by another sickening smack.

The next day Kevin was dropped off at their baseball game. The team was going through stretches and was just starting to play catch to warm up. Kevin always warmed up with Brock but he was nowhere to be found.

He found Michael, who was equally confused. Needless to say the game did not go to plan with their star pitcher Brock missing in action, they ended up getting crushed.

As the baseball team wrapped up their end game huddle the coach was called over by the sheriff of the town. The team sat anxiously as the coach returned to the closing huddle, his mood much more somber than before.

“Boys now we don't want you all to panic, but have any of you seen Brock lately? Apparently he didn't return from school yesterday.”

Kevin looked over at Michael who shared the same look of befuddled worry.

*************************************

Michael tossed his cleats on the hardwood floor, sighing as he took off his dirty baseball uniform. He was worried about Brock. Brock would skip sometimes, but it wasn't like Brock to disappear all together , and it especially wasn't like Brock to miss a baseball game.

He went to his bathroom, twisting the shower knobs to draw a bath; adjusting the water to just the perfect balance of steaming hot lava, and mildly chill.

He returned to his room to get a change of underwear and his pajamas. As he walked to his closet he paused hearing a light knocking sound.

“Mom?”

There was no answer, he opened his bedroom door. “Mom?”

He looked down both ends of the hallways with no one in sight. “What the heck.”

Michael shut the door, taking off his shirt, and froze again to the sound of knocking.

It wasn't his bedroom door, it was from behind him in his closet.

“What the?”

He placed his trembling hands on his closet doorknobs preparing to open it. He thought of how stupid it was that he was trembling, but he couldn't stop the shake, it were as if he were shirtless on a chill night.

He took a deep breath . “Nothing but dirty socks.”

Another thing Michael couldn't stop was the black mass that exploded from his closet wrapping him in its wake. It would be the last thing he remembered; before he went unconscious he was able to let out a quick yelp.

Kevin made his way toward the all white house, knowing Eugene was a little on the poorer side, it's not where he imagined him living. He hadn't heard from Michael, and Brock was still missing from the day prior. Though this is something he wanted to do on his own anyways. He tapped the door knocker, clanking loudly.

After a few moments the door opened. Eugene peered out the doorway, his face twisted in a mix of suspicion and confusion. Kevin thought to himself, good god the kids terrified of me. Which made him feel even heavier with remorse.

“Hey Thu- I mean Eugene. Sorry, bad way to start.” Eugene didn't appear angry; he just seemed to be waiting. “I was meaning to talk to you, If you don't mind.”

Eugene looked to the left and right of the outside and in his squeaky voice responded. “No Kevin, I'm a little busy and can't talk.” Kevin couldn't help but stare at the fleshy patch where his thumb should've been.

“Goodbye.” Eugene started to close the door when Kevin exclaimed,

“Wait! I just mean I want to say I'm sorry.” The door was a centimeter from being closed but stayed a crack open for a moment before slowly opening completely.

“Really?”

Kevin nodded solemnly, “Yeah I am, for everything we've done to you over the years, er well everything I've done.”

Eugene stood pondering for a moment before saying, “You wanna come in and have some of my mom's tea?”

Kevin smiled lightly and agreed to enter.

So there the two sat at the dinner table or what served as a dinner table and a junk table from what Kevin could tell, drinking sweet tea.

Kevin thought the tea tasted kind of weird but didn't say anything out of politeness.

The two were getting along actually really well considering everything.

Kevin was preparing to leave and before standing he said, “maybe we should hang out sometime?”

Eugene smiled genuinely, “Yeah, I would like that.”

Kevin stood, downing the rest of the tea exclaiming out loud and lying, “Man I gotta’ say your mom's tea was pretty darn good!”

As he put the glass on the table he found that somehow he missed the table completely. The cup fell shattering to the floor.

“Oh my god I'm sorry! I don't know. I don't know how I missed the table!”

The two shared an awkward laugh.

“It's okay, I can clean it up.”

Kevin hadn't noticed how hard he was gripping the chair, his knuckles were white.

“Woah.”

He stepped back, stumbling away from the table, and as if in slow motion crashed into the kitchen counter behind him. Tupperware and assorted silver clanked around him.

Searching for answers and his balance, he looked at Eugene who just sat in the chair, watching him.

“I don't know, I don't know what's wrong with..” He collapsed to the floor, his arms outstretched reaching like a prizefighter gripping the ropes of a boxing ring in vain. His hands flopped heavily from the counter to the floor. There he laid awkwardly on his side, breathing unwieldy deep breaths. He could hear the dust or dirt from the floor sprinkling away from him as he heaved.

The wooden chair Eugene was sitting in squeaked as he slid back, he took dainty steps towards Kevin. Kevin fought with everything to move but found he could barely move anything but his fingers and toes; and they too soon lost their feeling.

Eugene crouched close to Kevin's ear. “I'm sorry too Kevin, but it's too late.”

Kevin felt the room spinning as he lost consciousness

Kevin awoke with a pounding headache, his body aching in protest. He moaned as he rolled over, as he did he felt something poking his head. He looked up to see a barefoot looking back at his face. “What the heck?”

The foot moved and the body attached to it slowly sat up, whoever it was they were in their boxer briefs he could see.

“What the fuck.” Brock's usual deep voice rattled weakly.

“Oh my god you're alive!” Kevin managed to say. Sitting up they turned around and found they were in an irrigation ditch, and that Michael was stirring behind them as well. “What the shit is happening?” He groaned.

Kevin massaged his pulsating temple, and began to wipe his eyes when he noticed something different about his hands. He pulled them back in disbelief and horror. It was as if somehow, his thumb had been singed off his hand surgically. There were no scars, nothing at all. As if they never existed at all.

Michael, and Brock all cried out as well. Their thumbs were also missing.

The boys began to all cry in hysteria, walking back toward town. They turned behind them to the sound of gravel crunching behind them. Someone was riding up to them on a bike.

“Hey! You there!” Kevin yelled.

“Please stop, stop! Help us.” The boys all took turns pleading.

As the figure passed them, it became clear he was hooded.

“WAIT, COME THE HELL ON HELP US!” Brock croaked, limping after the rider.

The rider got twenty yards ahead of them before fishtailing to a smooth stop. They lowered their hood and a smiling face looked back at them.

“Eugene?” Kevin muttered.

Eugene continued his crooked smile back at them, slowly he raised his hand, giving a glorious thumbs up. He then turned and rode away leaving the boys to wallow in their disbelief.

Credit goes to my dad Timothy Flynn for this story he used to tell around the campfire, and still does here and there. This was a slightly reimagined version of his cautionary tale.