by Kahlen Aymes
He rolled his eyes as he chewed the delicate quick bread. “Who cares? It’s the best I’ve ever had. Come here, Gemmy! You gotta have some of this!”
The puppy went scampering to Ben’s side of the table. He broke off a piece of his cornbread and bent to give it to her. Her little pink tongue lapped some extra honey from his finger and thumb after she’d devoured the offering.
“You said I spoiled her, before,” Marin pointed out.
“Well, I take my job seriously. You’re her mom, and you say she gets spoiled! I’m all in.”
My heart leapt painfully inside my chest. I wished I could run over and hug him.
This was the sort of man dreams were made of… I wished with all my being that we’d met under different circumstances and that he really was “all in”.
With me.
MARIN
My stomach was in knots. I was overly anxious about meeting Carter’s family. It was going to be painfully awkward. I was a terrible liar, and this would be all an act for me.
Ben helped me put my suitcase into Uncle Leonard’s blue truck and took Gem with him when he left the night before, so I could just get up, shower and leave for the near hour drive to the airport. The Jackson airport was relatively small, so I didn’t need the three-hour lead time of the busier airports around the country, but it was still before dawn.
I sighed as I drove along Highway 191 in my uncle’s old beater Ford truck, I regretted the loss of my little Cooper Mini that Uncle Leonard had gotten me as a graduation gift. It gone up in flames when the building exploded shortly after I’d started running away from the scene. At least, I would have been able to plug in my iPhone and listen to my playlists. Its burned-out shell was still sitting in front of the ruins of the shop. I wasn’t allowed to clean things up until the fire commissioner was finished with his investigation, and I wasn’t sure if I needed to file that loss as part of the building claim or with my car insurance.
This truck had been Uncle Leonard’s favorite ever since I could remember, but this was the first time I’d ever driven it myself. It had to be at least fifteen years older than I was and was so much bigger than I was used to. My Uncle rebuilt the engine once and completely replaced the block when it broke from an accident where he ended up taking a deep dive into a ditch. The thing was vintage, dusty and dented, sort of like my uncle.
As I got closer to the airport the lights from planes taking off and landing dotted the sky. The sun was just starting to give a small golden glow on the eastern horizon. I sucked in my breath, my mind racing with awful memories of the fire, Carter’s screams as the lantern fell and the guilt brought on by the relief that I felt that he was out of my life. How could I look his mother in the eye and lie? My stomach ached and got worse as I parked the truck in long-term parking and took the shuttle to the terminal.
As they handed me the boarding pass, the pain in my stomach intensified and my head began to throb as I took my carry-on with me to the gate.
“Just breathe,” I told myself. “It’s only two days. Two days.”
I spent the first leg of the flight in misery; wishing the trip were finished and I was on my way back home instead of away from it. I spent the time wandering around looking at families and couples of all ages, wondering what their lives were like.
After I boarded the second plane bound for my final destination, I tried to close my eyes, but the rotund man in the seat next to me overflowed into my space and snored obnoxiously. I wished I’d brought my laptop so I could have played games or watched a movie during the flight. They were selling headphones to watch the inflight movie when I first got on board and I berated myself for not purchasing some. It was the longest leg, just over three hours, and it felt like forever.
Finally, we were on the descent into Minneapolis and the flight attendant made his last pass for the trash and empty glasses. My heart felt tight with apprehension as I contemplated the next two days. Gina made reservations for me at a Holiday Inn Express near the funeral home and texted me the address so that I could get a cab from the airport. I only had the one bag so I could bypass the lines at the baggage claims.
My heartbeat seemed to get louder in my ears as the plane got closer to the ground. I closed my eyes until the wheels made a slight squeal as they touched down on the runway.
The snoring man next to me finally woke up with a snort and hit me in the chest with his elbow. “Ow,” I blurted, moving a hand under my arm to cover the offended part of my anatomy. This entire experience was from hell.
After we taxied in and were finally allowed to disembark from the plane, people poured into the busy terminal. It was a fairly long walk from the gates through the terminal and I thought it would never end. I was wearing jean shorts, a white T-shirt, black zipper hoodie and new Vans, and my hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The picture I made was nothing out of the ordinary, yet I felt as if everyone was staring at the country bumpkin from Wyoming. Each step seemed as if it were one closer to the gallows. I knew it was ridiculous to feel that way, yet I couldn’t make it go away.
I watched the signs to the main terminal and when I passed the security checkpoint there were a few people with signs waiting for passengers coming up from the various flights. I inhaled deeply and found the escalator down to street level.
As I started to walk toward it, I heard a man say my name. My heart dropped into my stomach and I stopped then turned toward the voice.
A man, maybe a few years older than Carter stood before me. He was wearing slouched jeans and a dirty wife beater, his dark hair was slicked back with some sort of hair grease, and his face was covered with a beard and mustache. His dark eyes were the only part of him that seemed a little familiar and hinted at his relationship to Carter. Maybe this was a relation, but looking at him, I was scared shitless.
“Ye—yes?” I said, self-consciously putting a hand to the base of my throat.
“I’m Carter’s older brother, Apollo. I’m here to get you.”
I swallowed as fear ran through me. I had no reason to fear this man, except his appearance was menacing and his name seemed extreme. I tried hard to keep a shocked expression off of my face.
“Thank you, but I have a reservation at a hotel…”
He took my bag from my hands and shook his head. “Nope. Ma said you should stay at our house.”
“But…” I stood there watching him walk off with my bag.
“Come on.” He paused impatiently and glared at me before resuming his stride.
I started to walk in his direction, though not quickly enough to catch up, unsure that I was doing the right thing. I’d hoped I’d just stay in the hotel, show up for the funeral, and then be on my way back to Wyoming to the entire unpleasant experience behind me. “Um…”
Carter’s brother stopped and scowled at me again, more annoyed. “Look, woman, I ain’t gonna bite you.”
“I know, I’m just in shock, I guess.” What I was, was frightened.
“We all are. We didn’t hear from that little bitch for years and now, we’re mopping up another of his messes. Fuck me,” he huffed.
Apparently, there was no love lost between them. I began walking again, and when I reached him, Apollo fell into step with me. We didn’t speak until we reached the curb outside the terminal. There was a souped-up vintage Oldsmobile waiting, though I didn’t know the year, but I guessed the seventies or early eighties. It was shiny black with chrome trim.
He threw my bag in the back seat after he’d walked around. “What are you waitin’ on, Christmas? Get in,” he commanded.
I scrambled to open the door and slid inside. The inside of the car was not kept as well as the outside. The leather bench seat stretched across the entire car and was torn in several places and the ripped edges scraped against the sensitive skin on the back of my thighs. The old-time ashtray was pulled out and was overflowing with cigarette butts and ashes that spilled onto the floor.
I couldn’t help coughing from the offensive st
ench and lingering smoke. Apollo reached through the open window, grabbed the ticket that had been left on his front window for parking in a no-parking zone, crumpled it up, and then threw it over his shoulder into the back seat.
“Fuckers,” he muttered.
I wondered what other crimes Apollo committed, sure that he had. I sat like a stone on the passenger side of the vehicle, afraid to even speak, but felt I needed to offer my condolences. “I’m so sorry about your brother.”
The engine roared to life and the car jerked away from the curb into the traffic in front of the terminal. Someone honked and Carter’s brother lifted an arm out of the open window to flip whoever it was the bird.
“Why? Did you kill him?” he asked with a laugh, grabbing a pack of Camels from the dash and hitting it on the smooth steering wheel to knock one forward until he could get his lips around it.
I shook my head in fear. “No.”
“Okay, then, don’t be sorry.”
I was shocked at his callousness. Apollo pushed in the cigarette lighter until the element inside glowed red and it popped out to signal it was hot. He pulled it out and put it to the end of the cigarette already hanging from between his lips and sucked until it was lit.
I tried not to cough and held it in, but my eyes began to burn despite his window being rolled down. There was nothing electrical in this car, from the manual windows to the analog radio. My eyes began to water when he blew out smoke from his lungs and the cough I’d been holding in burst from my chest. I coughed hard until tears ran down my cheeks.
“Ah, a little princess, eh?”
Apollo flipped the cigarette out of the car onto the street.
“I’m sorry, I’m allergic to smoke.” I tried to explain. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
My phone pinged in my purse. I hadn’t texted Gina or Ben, and there was no one else to check on me, so it had to be one of them.
“Not a problem, though my old lady smokes like a chimney, so you might want to watch what you say in front of her.”
“Maybe it would be best if I stay at the hotel? It’s really no problem.”
“I got my orders. I’m to deliver you to the house, then you can talk to my ma and figure it out.”
By now, Apollo had turned off of the interstate and into the streets of an older neighborhood. “What is the neighborhood called?”
“My brother didn’t tell you shit about us, did he?”
“I’m sorry, he never mentioned his family much, no.”
“Stop apologizing for shit you can’t control,” he barked. It was obvious that he was angry at Carter. “He disappeared years ago. Fucker thought he was better than the rest of us, and he broke my ma’s heart.”
I wondered what Carter’s background was. Was his family involved in some sort of serious criminal activity that made him leave? Of course, there was no way to know. Apollo’s appearance was rough, but that might not be anything to judge by. Maybe his family was poor, or maybe there were into something illegal, but there had to be a reason that Carter left and didn’t speak of them.
The further we got away from the highway, the poorer and more dilapidated the houses became. There were people on the street, loitering by an old-fashioned drug store. Clearly, this was an older part of town, the houses were probably built in the thirties or forties. Some of them were kept up well, but most were plagued by rotting siding, damaged roofs and crumbling sidewalks. Many of the yards were filled with trash and old, incapacitated automobiles.
My unease grew. I pulled out my phone and saw the text was from Ben. I quickly scrolled to revisit Gina’s text. “The hotel is the Holiday Inn Express downtown. My friend booked it for me. She said it was the closet to the funeral home.”
“Well, that’s pretty ritzy, and definitely not the closest.”
Pretty ritzy? The price was reasonable, and I’d stayed at the chain of hotels and motels before, so I knew it was nice, but in no way ritzy. I called it up on Google maps.
“It says here it’s three miles away. If it’s too much trouble, I can get a cab in the morning.”
I prayed to God that he’d agree, but the dread inside me said that was asking for too much. I shouldn’t have come. “Look, princess, I told ya. If my ma says you can go, you can go. She has some questions for ya about how my little brother died and you’re gonna answer ‘em.”
My heart immediately fell into my stomach. The woman I’d spoken to on the phone had been abrupt with a raspy voice, but I was starting to become terrified of the confrontation.
“Okay, I can. I just thought that it might be awkward having a stranger around during this difficult time.”
“Why ain’t you crying or something? Shouldn’t you be bawling your eyes out? After all you were Carter’s woman, right?”
He pulled up in front of an older house with greyish siding that had seen better days. I guessed it had been white at one time. It was a small, two-story house with three concrete stairs leading up to a porch lined with metal floral motif columns and railings. It was rusted in many places, the rust stains trailing down the front of the porch to the dirt patch that served as a lawn. There were many motorcycles and old cars parked in front and up and down the narrow street.
“I have been, but I guess I’m all cried out,” I answered carefully. “I’m going to miss your brother, very much.”
He shoved the transmission into park and leaned toward me, so close I could smell rancid liquor and smoke on his breath. “Why don’t I believe you?” His teeth were crooked and stained yellow from years of smoking.
“I don’t know.” Obviously, I wouldn’t miss him. Guilt was the only emotion I felt in regard to Carter.
Apollo laughed. “Listen, I say good riddance to that little prick, so you won’t hurt my feelings, either way. My ma; that’s another story.”
He climbed out of the car and slammed the door hard. The doors were heavy and needed grease, so I struggled to push mine open as the man grabbed my small roller bag from the backseat. I was out of the car and he pushed it shut with a loud bang.
There were weeds growing unchecked around the chain-link fence; the gate directly on the broken sidewalk leading up to the house. “Is this where you and Carter grew up?” I asked.
“Home sweet home,” Apollo answered with disgust. He held the gate open and ushered me in. This could explain why Carter never wanted to come back, but surely, he loved his family, even if the place where they lived was poor and unkempt.
When we went inside it was full of people, talking, eating and drinking. The room was foggy with smoke which caused me to instantly start coughing. I put a hand up and covered my mouth with the back of my wrist.
Some children were held in the arms of adults and others were running around screaming, playing games, or fighting. It was the definition of chaos. Other than the children who didn’t notice me, silence settled upon the room as many pairs of eyes turned in my direction.
“Bring her here,” the gruff voice I recognized from the brief phone conversation commanded from the back of the room.
Apollo nodded in her direction, and ushered me forward, dropping my bag at the door.
“Ma, Princess. Princess, Ma.”
The woman didn’t look well. Her grey hair was uncombed, and her skin was a sallow yellow shade, her eyes bloodshot and watery. She was super skinny, and her clothes were rumpled, mismatched and large for her.
“Hello, Mrs. Stanton. I’m so sorry about your…Carter. My name is Marin,” I corrected Apollo’s sarcastic introduction.
The dark eyes that the woman shared with Carter and Apollo, studied me. The other people crammed into the room were a mixture of ages, young and old, but they all stared at me expectantly. The inside of the house was just as junky as the outside and I felt sorry for Carter for the first time, ever. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said, to everyone in the room.
“You want something to eat?” Mrs. Stanton asked. My upbringing demanded I address her in a formal way until
such a time she instructed otherwise. I didn’t think that would happen; ever.
“No, thank you; I’m okay.” The trip was long, and I hadn’t had anything other than nuts on the plane, but I had no appetite. I yearned for a hot bath and the bed at the hotel.
“Come over here. Sit beside me.” The old woman’s eyes followed me as I moved closer, and the dark-haired young woman sitting next to her moved to let me take her chair. She seemed much older than I’d imagined that she’d be. He was only twenty-eight, but this woman seemed to be close to seventy. Maybe it was the effects of a very hard life that had aged her beyond her years. Her teeth were black, some of them missing. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in quite some time.
I swallowed hard at the lump of distaste forming in my throat. “Thank you,” I said in acknowledgement, moving cautiously through the room. She only nodded, wide-eyed.
As I sat down next to Carter’s mother; a sour, sweaty smell assaulted my nostrils. I felt sorry for the woman, and for the entire family. The house was a mess, and it reeked.
“Tell me how my son died.”
I closed my eyes and my face fell. This was the last thing I wanted to recount. She reached for my hand and I let her take it. I could see the pain behind her watery eyes, even as she exuded a hardened demeanor.
“It was an accident at my Uncle’s mechanic shop where he was working. A lantern was accidentally knocked over and the grease and oil caught on fire.”
“Why was he using a lantern? Are things so backwoods out there that you have no lights?”
“We do, but there was a thunderstorm. The electricity was out.”
“Did you see it happen?”
My heart felt like it would explode. Surely, the woman must feel my pulse raging in the hand she held. Tears filled my eyes at the memory, I wanted to spare her that vision. “I did. I’m so sorry.”
“The mortician wouldn’t let me see my son’s body. Said he was fried to a crisp.” The woman didn’t seem as emotional as me.
