The Black Heart Crypt

Zack, Judy, Aunt Hannah, and Aunt Sophie sat in the emergency room waiting area.

It was nearly eight a.m.

A television suspended on a bracket was blaring the local news but nobody was paying much attention to it.

Judy was on her cell phone, talking with Zack’s dad. He would be on the next train home to North Chester.

“Come straight to the hospital,” Judy suggested. “Aunt Ginny will be here a while.… We will.… Love you, too.”

Judy closed her cell and glanced up at the TV.

“What’s that?”

She and Zack got up and walked closer to the monitor.

“That’s Ickes and Son,” said Zack. “The hardware store on Main Street.”

The TV showed a short man, his face sad and gray, standing next to a big guy with a shaved head and a tiny chin beard. The big guy was chewing gum, grinning, and waving at the camera.

“That’s Norman’s father,” said Zack. “And a Snertz who works at the hardware store.”

As if to prove Zack correct, titles appeared on the bottom of the screen: Herman Ickes, father. Stephen Snertz, coworker.

The camera zoomed out and a reporter lady jabbed a microphone under Mr. Ickes’s nose.

“This is terrible,” he said. “I don’t know what could have gotten into my son.”

“The real question,” said Zack, “is who got into his son.”

“Didn’t you recently fire your son?” asked the reporter. “Yes.”

“Didn’t you have his name painted over on your sign?”

Stephen Snertz grabbed for the microphone. “It wasn’t his name. It was the ‘and Son.’ Basically, Herman here was telling the world he no longer had a son, isn’t that right, Herm?”

Mr. Ickes didn’t answer. He dropped his head in shame.

So the reporter concentrated on Snertz.

“You worked with Norman. Do you think his father’s recent actions are what sent the younger Mr. Ickes over the edge?”

“Definitely. Of course, Norman was always nuttier than squirrel poop.”

“So you’re not surprised at this turn of events?”

“Nah. Except the horse. Who knew the nerd could ride?”

The reporter turned to face the camera, which zoomed out even further, taking in the hardware store and the other shops lining Main Street.

“There you have it, Chip,” said the reporter. “A father’s public humiliation of his only son sends him spiraling into a violent rampage that has terrorized a picture-perfect small town in this bucolic corner of Connecticut.”

While she talked, the camera panned right and took in more storefronts, the village green and town hall, the town clock tower … The clock tower!

With its hands rusted in place.

Where the time was always frozen at 9:52.

That was what his mother had told him right before she disappeared.

Nine-fifty-two!

She had broken the rules and told him exactly where he had to go.

“The town clock!” Zack said to Judy.

“What?”

“That’s where they hid the black heart stone!”