Bigfoot Beach
Page 31
Paul looked beside him, where he expected to find Striker’s dead body.
The spot was empty.
Hobbling around on his knees, he stared down the catwalk. The bars extended outward, vanishing inside the smoke. The platform extended like a long aluminum tongue. Standing where the rafter parted the smoke was Striker. He held a hand to his stomach. His face was streaked in red soppy bits, making his exhausted eyes look very white. His clinging tank top was ripped around a large pectoral muscle.
They stared at each other for several long moments before Striker gave him a terse nod.
Paul returned the gesture.
Then Striker turned around and started walking. The smoke closed behind him like curtains. Paul could no longer see him.
Hopefully you can finally find some peace, Big Guy.
Paul took a deep breath and started coughing when he sucked blood into his nostrils.
A YEAR LATER
Crouching, Paul put the flowers beside the fresh set that was already on the grave. He figured Trish had come into town recently, maybe with the boys, and put them there. Paul felt sad knowing she’d come back and hadn’t contacted him. But for her sake, it might be best to keep communication scarce. He probably reminded her too much of Howie, especially now that he wore the sheriff’s badge.
“Hey, Howie,” said Paul.
He hadn’t been here since the funeral and, now, he couldn’t help feeling silly for the two words he’d just said. Sighing, he looked up. Tall trees blocked most of the sun. The leaves trembled, making sounds like a baby’s rattle as a heavy breeze pushed through them. He shook his head.
You came here to talk, so do it.
Paul saw a blade of grass was taller than the others, so he plucked it out.
“Well, I just got back from helping Gunner move into his apartment. Not surprisingly, I noticed a lot of Megan Caine’s belongings were already there. Guess she’s going to be a frequent houseguest at Gunner’s place. I’m pulling for them, Howie. Really, I am. Seems to be going great now, but around Christmas I thought they were going to call it quits. Guess the shock of everything was fading and neither of them knew how to deal with it.”
Paul plopped down on his rump. The grass felt warm through his pants. He removed his ball cap and ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He wasn’t looking forward to his vacation ending and having to put on that dopey campaign hat again. But it had been Howie’s, so really, he didn’t mind. It was a little big on his head and sagged over his ears, making them dip out like tiny wings.
“Now they seem to be even closer. I even found some jewelry store pamphlets, with engagement rings circled. So I imagine before long I’ll have a daughter-in-law. That’ll tickle Natalie. She loves Megan. We all do, really. She’s tough, that’s for sure. Losing her father and a brother…” Paul’s voice suddenly strained. He cleared his throat. “Well…I know what she’s been dealing with, what her and Max Caine have been dealing with. And it helps to have somebody by your side through dark times who understands. Gunner understands, so they’re lucky to have each other. Max is going to marry one of the waitresses from Quincy’s. They’re opening up a pancake house in town. He has his father’s knack for business, that’s for sure. And he has somebody too, to help him through the adjusting phase.”
He looked over his shoulder. “And so do I.”
Becky stood underneath another tree filled with pink blossoms. Pedals fluttered down, landing on the pink carpet around her feet. If she stood there much longer, she might be buried in the lavish flowers. Paul smiled. She looked like an angel as she smiled back at him. She held out her hand and made a shooing gesture. Paul understood she was telling him to keep talking and to stop using her as a distraction not to.
Paul waved, then turned around.
“To be honest, I was the one who brought home those pamphlets. Though I assumed it was Gunner who found them and confiscated them for his own use. Maybe we can have a double-wedding?”
Paul laughed. He liked how it made him feel inside, how it eased the tension making his muscles feel so tight. His vision turned splotchy, and when he rubbed a finger across his eye, he felt moisture.
“Shit,” said Paul. “Sorry, Howie. Not meaning to get choked up.” Paul took a deep breath to settle his nerves. When he felt like talking again, he said, “The town’s doing much better. The new mayor’s busting his ass to get things back to normal. The Bigfoot ordeal brought people in from all over. When Becky’s book came out last spring, things really boomed. It’s not like we’re celebrating the Bigfoot, at least not in Caine’s way, but we are embracing it. The beach will never be Bigfoot Beach, but they are changing the name. To Howie Beach.”
Paul laughed.
“I can see you rolling your eyes right now and I have to agree. Goofiest name I’ve ever heard. But the mayor insisted, so I obliged. Trish was even okay with it. We have a memorial being built to honor the victims and their families. People flock to it, although it’s not even close to being finished. Becky has become a hometown celebrity thanks to her book. It was a good read. Even I was amazed by how well-written it was. She was on the morning show last week and made the announcement about the movie they’re going to make. I see Matthew McConaughey playing you. Knowing my luck, somebody like Ben Stiller or Vince Vaughn will play me. I bet Striker will be played by Stallone. Speaking of, nobody knows where our Bigfoot expert has disappeared to, but I’m sure he’s getting bored. Maybe he’s out on another monster hunt somewhere.”
Paul’s chest felt tingly and hot. His voice had turned thick, as if a bubble had formed in his throat.
“But, Howie, we miss you. And…I’m sorry…you know? For everything. I know I wasn’t always the easiest to handle, but you loved me anyway. You are the best brother a guy like me could have and I’m sorry I never told you how much I appreciated everything you did for me. But I’m telling you now.”
Paul gave a quick glance back at Becky. She smiled, nodded. Then he looked at his brother’s headstone through tear-blurred eyes. He saw Howie’s full name, the years of his life below.
“I love you, Howie.”
Sitting on the ground above his brother’s grave, Paul felt the direction of the wind shift. The grass that had been swaying lazily to the right leaned to the other side as the wind came back and curled around Paul in a delicate swath. Warmth swirled through him as if he’d just swallowed coffee.
Smiling, Paul nodded. Then the wind returned to normal, its direction flowing away from him instead of toward him.
“Thanks, Howie.”
Paul approached Becky. Hands in the pockets of her shorts, she smiled. The tree shaded her, but left nets of bouncing light scattered across her smooth skin.
“Say everything you needed to say?” she asked.
“No.”
Becky frowned. “Paul.”
“If I did, then what would I say when I come back?”
She looked into his eyes and must’ve seen that he wasn’t lying. Her frown smoothed into a pleased expression. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Ready to go?”
She nodded. “Sure. Hungry?”
Paul was and told her so.
“Great,” she said. “Let’s head over to Quincy’s.”
“Think our table will be open?”
“Max promised nobody but us would be allowed to sit in it.”
“Yeah, but you know Max.”
Laughing, Becky threw her hip against him. “Be nice.”
“I am. I could’ve said—”
Becky made a sound like a buzzer. “Don’t. Can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”
Smiling, Paul stayed quiet until they reached Becky’s car. She’d replaced the beater with a Mustang. It suited her personality much better.
“But,” said Paul, “we better pick up Natalie first.”
“Day Camp doesn’t stop until five.”
“Yeah, I know. But if we get hot dogs without her she’ll pound our head
s.”
Becky laughed. “True.”
Inside the car, Becky cranked the A/C on full blast. The air blowing from the vents was hot but quickly cooled.
On their way into town, Paul stared out the window.
Though so much had changed, and his life had been plagued with more misery than he cared to reflect on, he was happy in this moment. For the first time in a year, he almost felt free. Maybe he would sleep through the night for once.
Doubt it.
Though he did feel better, he knew nothing would keep the nightmares away. Nothing would stop him from being shocked awake. Finding himself drenched in gelid sweat, unable to drift back to sleep unless Becky held him tightly and whispered over and over in his ear that it was over.
Holding his breath, Paul fought the cold shakes that were trying to come on. He wanted this good moment to last. They seldom came, and he didn’t want it to end.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kristopher Rufty is the author of The Skin Show, The Lurkers, The Lurking Season, Jagger, and many more. He has also written and directed the independent horror films Psycho Holocaust and Rags. He also hosted Diabolical Radio, an internet radio show devoted to horror fiction and film, for five years. But what he's best at is being married to his high school sweetheart and the father of two (soon to be three) crazy children he loves dearly. Together, they reside in North Carolina with their giant dog, Thor, and numerous cats.
For more about Kristopher Rufty, please visit his Website www.lastkristontheleft.blogspot.com
He can be found on Facebook and Twitter as well.
More titles by Kristopher Rufty
Novels:
Angel Board
Pillowface
The Lurkers
Oak Hollow
Prank Night
The Skin Show
Proud Parents
The Lurking Season
Jagger
Novellas:
Jackpot
(with David Bernstein, Adam Cesare, and Shane McKenzie)
A Dark Autumn
Last One Alive
The Night Everything Changed
eBooks are NOT transferable
Bigfoot Beach
Prologue
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A YEAR LATER
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
More titles by Kristopher Rufty