My life in 1968 seemed as though it was spiraling out of control since Mom and Dad decided to divorce. I was a happy thirteen year old that year living a normal life in Montana with good friends and backyard football games. As soon as the divorce was finalized, Mom and I left our little town of Lavina and headed down south to Mississippi. Mom and I were moving in with her brother, Uncle Smitty. The only silver lining of the move was that he lived on a piece of land that had a lake on it. I had played there a few times when we had visited him in the past. I tried to remember the name of the Lake, was it Bonefield? No, that wasn’t it, maybe ..oh yeah, Boneyard Lake. Creepy sounding name but I wasn’t scared of anything. I looked forward to fishing, exploring, and maybe Uncle Smitty would teach me to hunt.
Fall was in the air when we arrived at our new home, at least our home for the time being. Mom enrolled me in school, I made a few friends, and a couple of boys were coming over to the house in the afternoons to play football in the back yard. One boy I liked was Billy Wilson. We became buddies and soon we were what Uncle Smitty would call “a couple of River Rats”, because we played down by the water so much. We took Uncle Smitty’s reference as a badge of courage. We weren’t afraid of anything and Boneyard Lake, albeit spooky at night, was our haven away from being stuck inside the house or doing chores.
Halloween was only a week away when Billy asked me “John Boy, can you keep a secret?” My real name was John Reinmiller, but I guess John Boy was sort of like a southern thing so I didn’t object. “Sure I can keep a secret. You can trust me I swear.” “You’ll have to swear with your blood John Boy. You’ll have to. Tonight I’ll take you to a place you won’t believe. You meet me after supper by the dirt road that runs down to the lake. Tell your Mama you are coming over to my house to plan for Halloween. I’ll see you tonight, and don’t be late.”
After supper I met up with Billy and we both took a trail guided by our flashlights to the edge of Boneyard Lake. As we came upon the boat launch I saw a small fire and heard the chanting.
“
Black and Orange, Yellow and Red
We call on you to come back from the dead
Return we ask and visit us
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust”
Ok, maybe I wasn’t so brave after all. My throat lumped up and I was shaking so hard my flashlight beam was shining on the surrounding trees like a prison spotlight searching for an escaped convict. “Chill out John Boy, it’s OK. I know these people. This is what I brought you here for.” Billy gave out a whistle and we were acknowledged by the group of kids sitting around the fire pit in a circle. We took a seat on the grass and the chanting continued.
“
Spirits past and spirits new
Lead us now we’ll follow you
We sacrifice our blood to take
Upon these grounds of Boneyard Lake”
“What’s going on Billy”, I asked “It’s the secret clan of the Boneyard Bangers, and now that you know about us, you are one. You’ll be tested in the next week, and you better not let us down, or something bad will come your way, I guarantee you that”, Billy said. With that I was asked to cut my middle finger and drop seven drops of blood into the fire pit. The cut was superficial. I was so scared I didn’t even feel the blade of the knife as it opened up my flesh. Seven drops of blood, a pact to the Boneyard Bangers, and an impending test of my courage within the week. Somehow I longed for Montana. I got back home to Uncle Smitty’s within an hour and went right to the shower, cleaned up, and went to bed. I didn’t sleep much that night.
Billy met me after school the next day and told me the Boneyard Bangers had decided what my initiation would be. “John Boy, you’ve been given your orders from the high priest of the group. You have to break into Old lady Smith’s house on Halloween night and steal her pistol that she keeps in the gun rack next to the fireplace.” “I won’t do it, I said. You’re kidding right? I’ll talk to this high priest and tell him I won’t do it!” “You’re talking to him John Boy, and you will do it, otherwise you’re a dead man.” Billy had an intense look of evil in his eyes. I believed he would actually kill me if I didn't do what he said.
Halloween night came quickly and I found myself wishing I had never heard of the Boneyard Bangers, had never left Montana, and had never met Billy. I wanted my Dad. I wanted out. I knew if I was caught I probably wouldn’t go to jail, being only thirteen years old, but I would be from that point on an outcast in this small community we lived in. I was afraid of Billy and his threat if I didn't do as he instructed, so I did exactly what he told me to do. I snuck up the stairs to old lady Smith’s as soon as her lights went out. It was 9 pm and I had to make it quick, as it was time for me to be home and Mom would be looking for me. I opened her unlocked door, quietly entered her living room and found the gun case and took what wasn’t mine. I took her pistol, a Smith & Wesson 357 Magnum revolver, fully loaded. I silently left her house and hid the pistol underneath a pile of wood at Uncle Smitty’s. Billy would ask me about it the next day, and I would have to show him the gun, or give it to him if that is what he ordered.
I met Billy at the boat launch at Boneyard Lake the next afternoon. I took the pistol along with me hoping that this would all be over within the next few minutes. “Did you get it John Boy? Did you get the pistol?” I pulled out the 357 magnum, but having second thoughts, I put it back in my coat pocket. “Give me the gun John!” Billy had never called me John before. His eyes were pure evil. “Give me the damn gun!” Billy struggled with me to grab the gun. As I grabbed the handle of the pistol, it went off with a loud bang. Billy looked at me with surprise as he still tightly held the barrel of the pistol. His eyes were no longer filled with evil. Now all I saw was fear. His grip loosened on the gun and he fell to the ground at my feet with a bullet hole in his chest. I dropped the gun and ran home.
Billy’s Dad called that night looking for him. Uncle Smitty shouted out to me “John have you seen that other River Rat today?” “No Uncle Smitty, haven’t seen him all day.” That night his Dad went looking for him and found him lying in a pool of blood, dead from a gunshot wound to the chest. The police were called, the weapon recovered and traced back to old lady Smith’s home. She didn’t even know it was missing. The police determined that young Billy Wilson had stolen the weapon, and either accidently or intentionally shot himself. I never said a word about it.
What a blessing it is to be alive and involved in a child's life. Especially if they are your Grandchild. Life just keeps getting better. I promise that I will be such a positive influence in her life. 
