The Night Yellow Creek Ran Red

Ulysses Fischer was a hermit who lived in the outskirts of Yellow Creek. Children loved him because he would play in the muck, told tales about ghosts and dragons, and knew how to build tree forts that were almost as grand as the ones they could imagine. He was also one of the only adults they knew who didn't think it was "adorable" when they talked about ways they thought the world worked.

"I bet that if you took a bulldozer and dug to the center of the earth," Jason Beesinger would say on a cool October day, "you would find a big city where it's always hot!"

Ulysses would stroke his scraggly beard for a moment, deep in meditation. "There's only one way to find out!" He would eventually declare.

And the rest of the afternoon would be spent in the quarry, digging a hole with hands and sticks and a single shovel shared between the whole gang.

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Ulysses lived a life devoid of shame. He bathed only when he felt like swimming in the creek, dressed in outrageous clothes, slept in a van, and was unabashed about his various bodily functions. If a person got confrontational with him, he was a mean fighter not afraid to spit or bite. But usually no one had any reason to get confrontational with him, save a few high school kids who learned their lesson quickly. No one paid Ulysses much attention at all, in fact, save the group of kids who idolized him and some lazy cops who would pester him about moving his van when the spirit moved them.

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There were two sorts of children in Yellow Creek. The first was a small class that spent their days exploring the forest and creek, who played games of imagination, and rode bicycles over makeshift ramps in the mud. Their parents encouraged their time outside, and complained when they felt too much time was being spent on video games. Although these parents had become accustomed to a lot of scraped knees and the occasional missing child scare - which was always resolved when said child came back home with a guilty look at the end of the day - they knew it was better than sheltering their children.

Then there was the other kind of child, the majority. That is, those whose parents were uncomfortable with letting them leave the house unsupervised and didn't see the need for playing outside. These children tended to spend long hours in front of the TV, and when their friends came over imagination games were generally restricted to the ones that could be played without climbing an oak or jumping off a ledge into a small body of water.

Needless to say, the second group had never even heard of Ulysses. As for the smaller first group, there wasn't a day that went by without the thought of rushing out to play with him after school. And of course, their parents all heard about the eccentric folk hero Ulysses Fischer so frequently they had learned to tune out at the mention of his name. Initially they assumed he was in the same 7-12 age bracket as his fan club, or an imaginary friend of sorts. Naturally, when they found out that he was an unemployed 25-year-old they were aghast. But, after a bit of investigation, they found out he was the older brother of 11-year-old Daniel Fischer. It seems that even though he wasn't on speaking terms with his parents any longer, Ulysses was still more than happy to watch out for his neglected younger sibling in his ample spare time. A few of these parents even invited the Fischer brothers over for dinner. (Never more than once, mind you, mostly due to Ulysses' personal hygiene.)

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That summer the kids noticed a few changes in Ulysses. First off, he generally smelled a lot nicer. And his beard was starting to look well-groomed. Further, although this was something no one could ever be sure of as he was already a notoriously good grinner, it seemed like his grins had become even wider than previously and they had a new element to them; like he had a secret which a glimmer in his eyes threatened to betray. Not even Daniel Fischer, who in truth had been drifting apart from Ulysses with age, could say what was up.

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It should be mentioned that Ulysses was - despite his modest lifestyle and outlandish garb - not half bad looking and even rather charming in his own way. And as such, he had managed to find a girlfriend that was willing to overlook his oddball quirks and lack of direction in life. Becka Lavigne had dyed hair and was unpopular. But she was a good person, Ulysses wouldn't have had her otherwise, and he was entertaining the notion of falling in love with her. Becka was also, sadly, a junior in High School. And when her parents found out about her relationship with Ulysses - otherwise known as the weird hermit in the van - they filed charges against him.

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Ulysses had poor foresight when it came to his choice of girlfriends, but he was neither stupid nor guilty. The charges were eventually dropped. Nothing wrong with holding hands with a younger girl, the police said. And the Lavignes were never able to prove that matters had gone any further than that.

It should have been enough that Becka had been sent off to live with her grandparents. But the arbitrary god of luck, allied with the sly powers behind gossip and hearsay, had different plans for Ulysses.

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It would be all too easy to blame the individuals involved in spreading the rumors. But when some things are taken together, they take a life of their own. There were a few facts circulating which were at the root of the uproar; the most important being that Ulysses, a young male, had indeed been the subject of statutory rape charges that were later dropped (this second point of course glossed over). Further, it was by this point known that he had what could only be described as an entourage of children visiting him frequently. Thirdly, those who had engaged in limited interaction with him could say that he was malodorous, given to theatrical displays of eccentric behavior, and frequently seen in an odd assortment of garb.

It matters not what the law may say. There are certain crimes that, once accused, a person is always considered guilty of until proven innocent. Most of these crimes are sexual, notably rape, but pedophilia takes a close second. And from a sturdy foundation of those facts mentioned above, it did not take much in the imagination on the part of frantic parents for the accusations to begin, and soon skyrocket in degree of atrocity.

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It isn't often that panic mounts to a degree that a parent's meeting is called in Yellow Creek. Ulysses Fischer, unaware of the swirling miasma of fear and hate swirling around him, was unfortunate enough to have one such meeting assembled in his honor. An atmosphere of uncertainty that saw the start of the assembly quickly gave way to shouts, cries, and solemn oaths. Before the meeting was adjourned, rumors that were previously speculation had somehow solidified into empirical fact.

Not to say that Ulysses didn't have defenders. In fact, many of those that had him over for dinner were the first to call for cooler heads. These same defenders were the first to disperse after the assembly had been called to a close with no formal resolution. But even most of those that fervently believed every vile thing said about Ulysses Fischer eventually went home.

It was only the most passionately enraged who, after whispered instructions from a man named Elroy Yates, assembled under the cover of darkness. There were only a few of them, a small slice of the community really, that silently set out that night.

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Not a single one of those men who stalked off to Ulysses Fischer's van had a child who had even met Ulysses. But neither had any of them fabricated fanciful stories that were presented that dark night, they had merely been presented with them as though it was fact. None considered himself anything less that a caring father and devoted husband. To the last man, they called each other honest men and perhaps they were. But bloodthirsty spirits whispering promises of justice pushed them forward.

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The van appeared in the distance, silhouetted against creek which the town took its name from. The implacable crew grew near steadily, subconsciously afraid of what came next.

Elroy Yates knocked twice on the rear door of the van. The door opened and Ulysses poked his smiling head out.

"Wipe that grin off your face, faggot" Elroy growled.

Ulysses looked confused and said "what seems to be the tro--." He was cut off by a hook to the jaw.

Ulysses did not go down without a fight. In fact, he went down fighting like an animal; scared, confused, and deadly. Biting and spitting. As they went in on him hard, he fought back even harder.

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Whenever Elroy was asked how he lost his eye, he'd mutter something about a fishing accident and with a look of shame change the subject. After Ulysses' body was found, no one ever brought the issue up again.

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Half of Yellow Creek showed up for the funeral, including many of those that had hated him the previous month. When the priest asked for a moment of silence, Elroy muttered loud enough for everyone to hear; "He was like a dog."

And Jason Beesinger replied; "He was like a dog; he was our best friend."