The Traiteur's Ring

by Jeffrey Wilson

  “’Ey lookin’ bit younger dan ‘spected and yo sho’ do grow up bigger den me tink, sho ‘neff dat.” Ben could smell the stale cigarettes and moonshine, and the smell got stronger as the man leaned in so far that Ben feared he might tip over. “Yo’ Gammy be right ‘bout all dat grow stuff, fo’ sho’ neff true. Big, Goddammit!” he hacked out a laugh-cough and then spit a big glob of snot into the dirt beside Ben’s hammock. The old man recovered from the coughing fit and then went to poke at Ben again with his cane, but Ben grabbed it and held the tip away from his aching side. The old man snatched it away, but laughed a wracking laugh again. “Best be gittin’ a move on, Bennie. We got not so much of da’ time tin’ and we get places for.”

  The old man turned with surprising balance and headed off down the familiar path in the woods beside the ramble shack house Ben doubted still stood in real life. He swung his legs out of the hammock and dropped his bare feet onto the soft moss of the forest floor.

  That the old man moved so quickly came as no surprise – dreams always had their own confusing tempo. Christy had told him once she believed dreams were the mind’s way of cleaning house, and he hoped that was true. He had always felt them to be more of a haunting, but maybe some were meant to clear the ghosts out of the attic in his mind, and this kind of felt like that.

  The clearing where Gammy usually stood naked, ankle deep in blood, and stark white in the moonlight now held only a wide and irregular patch that seemed strangely devoid of the moss and weeds that made up the rest of the forest floor. The old man looked back at him over a bony shoulder, his eyes a yellow glow, and gestured at the patch of ground with the twisted cane that had left a bone-bruise soreness in Ben’s rib cage.

  “Strange night, dat, hey?” he said. “Yo’ Gammy sho neff’ done beat down dem demons dat day, boy.” He released a high-pitched squeal of a laugh that again brought on a convulsion of coughing that stopped him and bent him over, one hand on his cane and the other on a bent knee. Ben caught up and put his hand on the old man’s back. Through the thin fabric he felt thick sinewy muscle wrapped over brittle bone. He could feel the vibration of the coughing deep inside the man’s chest.

  “You okay?” he asked and pulled his hand away from the cold body.

  The man stopped coughing and turned his head up towards him, the glowing eyes and wide, maniacal smile out of place.

  “Been long time far away from okay, sho ‘neff dat.” He spit a thick wad of blood-streaked snot onto the ground between them. “Guessin’ I seein yo’ Gammy soon nuff quick. Dat crab been eatin’ way dem lungs fas’r’n we hope, guessin’ me. Meet yo soon, den next day maybe be movin’ dat home place.” The man coughed again, this time with more control, then straightened up and leaned again on the cane. “Few mo’ tins to be showin’ you here, den maybe home, sho ‘neff.” This time the smile seemed less chilling.

  In a blink (because of the nature of dreams?) the old man moved again with animal-like speed through the brush and trees. The cane beat rapidly on the forest floor beside him as he seemed to almost glide through the woods. Ben felt his breathing quicken and a glow of sweat spread across his face and neck. How in the shit did the old man move so fast?

  Dreams. Anything can work in a dream, man. Just roll with it, and let it clean the attic.

  “Pay da way to here, Bennie Boy,” the old man said without turning around. “Yo gots ta findin’ dis path you own self, sho ‘neff true.”

  The man had stopped and gestured now with his cane, pointing at a break in the trees like he gave a lecture and it was his pointer. Ben hustled to catch up and stopped beside the small, hunched figure who could not possibly have moved as he did through the woods. The break in the brush was little more than a dark hole, and Ben felt his heart quicken, though he had no idea why.

  Because dreams scare you for reasons you need a fuckin’ shrink to figure out, and they probably just make their explanations up. Because a dream about a furry bunny can wake you in a sweat with your pulse pounding and a dream about getting hacked to death can leave you feeling nothing. That’s just dreams. Roll with it, Bennie boy.

  He leaned past the old man’s hunched figure and strained to see into the dark, tunnel-like path. He now saw the floor of the path was actually more of a little stream. Thick, black water trickled along in a thin line between thick mangrove trunks that clutched the muddy ground like skeleton claws, digging in hard to suck out every drop of moisture. The mangroves bent inward along the path, forming a twisted ceiling that closed the tunnel completely. Ben felt a cold breeze that sighed out of the path and brought to him a scent – bad and familiar. His brain refused to remind him where he had smelled it before. He knew one Goddamn thing – he had no intention whatsoever of hunching over and goating his ass down this path that seemed to dive downward a few yards in, dropping like a black rabbit hole.

  “Yo get to here, and den go alone. Mos’ true important, dat, Bennie boy. Alone, fo sho’ neff, yeah? Jess you, boy.”

  Ben peered again into the dark hole in the forest. He had no intention of ever climbing down this wet, woody asshole in the woods.

  “I don’t think so,” he said with a nervous chuckle and pulled back from the clearing in disgust.

  “Not now time, dick-hole,” the old man said with voice full of annoyance, like he talked to an insolent child who was slow and thick. “You be knowin’ when time to go be. Dat udder one tell you, mos’ probly like. Dat one like dem old time people but far away.”

  Ben had no friggin’ clue what the old man could possibly be talking about. Was the other one from far away the elder – the giver of the cursed ring that pulsed now with an electric heat on his right hand? He heard a wet rattle, and the ancient, ill man beside him spit again, this time more blood than snot. Then, he laughed that squeaky laugh.

  “Yo be knowin’ when da need time come, sho ‘neff dat. Yo Gammy givin’ yo dat shine long, long moons ago, boy.” Ben looked into the eyes that no longer glowed and again looked young and bright. “Jess ‘member how yo’ find dis path here when da need time be get here, ’kay?”

  “’kay,” Ben answered, not sure what else to say.

  The old man smiled that crazy smile, and the glow returned to his eyes.

  “Be seein’ ya few days mo’,” he said and then with lightning speed he thrust forward with his cane and struck Ben painfully in the middle of his breast bone.

  Ben stumbled backwards over a mangrove root, lost his footing, and felt himself pitch past the point of no return. Before his ass hit the ground, the world turned dark and he fell for longer than it should have taken to hit the forest floor, and he screamed in terror.

  He hit the ground – a hard ground not even remotely touched by soft, ass-saving moss – with a crack and felt a jarring pain run up his right hip and into his back.

  “Shit,” he hollered, interrupting his guttural scream, and flayed out his arms in search of a branch before his head hit whatever rock his rear end had found. His fingers clutched around something soft, and he continued on down, his head smacking hard onto the wood floor of their bedroom. The comforter in his grip floated gently down over his head.

  Ben lay there for a moment and then rolled over and pushed painfully to his knees, pulling the blanket off his face. He knelt for a moment beside the bed, his forehead against the edge of the mattress. Then, he struggled to his feet. His breast bone throbbed, and he looked down and saw the tip of a cane shaped welt in the middle of his chest.

  Didn’t clear out that attic much tonight.

  He looked at the clock beside the bed, smiled, and felt the dream anxiety dissipate quickly. The feeling he had from the nightmare was sure as hell nothing new, and he was getting married in only eight and a half more hours to the woman of his dreams. He pumped his leg back and forth and found the painful knot in his hip worked itself out pretty easily – no real damage.

  At least I won’t limp my way towards Christy.

  He flung himself onto the bed, lay on top of the c
overs, and watched the early, pre-sunrise light paint a peculiar picture on the ceiling. He ignored the memories of the night’s dreams and just let himself relax into the excitement of the day ahead.

  Chapter 18

  He literally took her breath away.

  Christy stared at him in awe as she walked along the wooden walkway that led across the sand to the gazebo where he waited. It wasn’t just how gorgeous he looked in his dress uniform (that brought bad memories, if anything, of the other times he had worn it). She realized what made her body forget to breathe was the absolute perfect look of happiness that lit up her soon-to-be-husband’s face when he saw her. She felt her hands shake a little and clutched her small bouquet of flowers more tightly to her chest.

  Not nervous. Just perfectly excited.

  Christy looked down at her feet for a moment in the hope that a brief look away would let her grab back control over her legs so she could finish her procession to the gazebo. Ben waited patiently for her (though she still couldn’t quite look at his face her peripheral vision registered his glowing smile), flanked by Reed on one side and her best friend Amy on the other. She knew that for Amy this must feel bitter-sweet – not only had her best friend pined for marriage her entire life, but she had always had as her singular goal to marry a United States Navy SEAL.

  Christy had never defined herself by any man in her life and had only reluctantly agreed (how many years ago now?) to the blind date with the friend of a SEAL (one of many) Amy had been dating. She had never been anti-military or anything, just anti-blind date. Quite honestly, had she not been friends with Amy, she would have had no idea what a Navy SEAL was. Amy had always been incredulous that her best friend had actually grown up in the Virginia Beach area, the heart of all the east coast SEAL teams, and didn’t seem to know anything about them. Now she had beaten her friend to the altar and married the SEAL she had met through her. She knew Amy well enough to know that hurt her.

  She thought of these things as she walked towards her soon-to-be Navy SEAL husband, and a little part of her felt bad for stealing Amy’s dream. But Amy smiled a big, genuine smile as she approached, and she grinned back, mostly because she worried if she looked again into Ben’s eyes she might lose it and live her worst fear for this day – crying in front of all these people, especially Ben’s teammates and their tough-by-trade Navy wives.

  “You look so beautiful,” her mother breathed at her as she passed, standing beside her folding wooden chair in the sand. The look on her face told Christy she was sorry for being wrong about the wedding. Most of the past week her mom tried to talk her into a big church.

  “What’s the hurry, for God’s sake?” she had asked, and then covered her mouth at the thought. “Oh Jeez, you’re not pregnant are you?”

  Christy had assured her that, no, she was not pregnant – just ready. She insisted this outdoor ceremony would be perfect, especially with only twenty or so people in attendance. Her mom’s glowing eyes said she had been right. She flashed a nervous (no, excited) smile to her mother. Her mom dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue and mouthed that she loved her.

  Christy walked up to Ben, stood beside him, and stared him squarely in the throat. She would look at those storm-filled eyes in a moment when this silly, teen-age wave of emotion past. She felt his fingers under her chin gently tilt her face up, and she stole a look. At once, she felt tears well up, a smile exploded on her face, and all of her worries about embarrassing Ben evaporated. Ben smiled down at her with wet eyes filled with more emotion than she had seen from him in all the time they had been together.

  “I love you, baby,” he whispered to her in a voice that quivered.

  The waterworks spilled onto her cheeks, and she touched his face with the palm of her hand and nodded, afraid if she whispered back her voice would sound like Kermit the Frog, the overwhelming emotion now a tight belt around her throat. She vaguely heard the collective “Awwww…” from the women in the small group gathered to witness their vows.

  “Ahem,” the Chaplain, Commander Wiltshire she remembered, said to signify they might need to look at him for the next few minutes.

  She reached down and took both of Ben’s strong, calloused hands in hers. Her mind made a soft note that the ring still held its place on Ben’s hand, its surface a soft and glowing orange and so shiny. She guessed she could see herself if she bent over. She turned to face the preacher.

  Christy felt like she blinked, and the whole thing was over. She had images etched forever in her mind – the single tear that ran down Ben’s cheek when he repeated his vows, the embarrassing stutter she found in her voice when she repeated hers, the hug Amy gave her when she took her flowers, and the inappropriate “Hell yeah!” that Reed bellowed when the Commander announced they were married now (man and wife, he called it). But the rest just evaporated away and even now – just minutes later as they got hugs and handshakes – she could recall almost nothing else from the ceremony. She didn’t care. The images she had were hers forever, and the rest didn’t matter except that she would wake up with the man she loved for the rest of her life.

  Except when he’s far away, God’s knows where, doing terrifying things – or if he one day comes back draped in a flag.

  Christy shook her head and scolded her inner voice that this was not the place or time. She knew the risk of marrying this man, but knew that she would never be happy with anyone else – that he completed her and that made the risk a no-brainer.

  “Welcome aboard, sister,” Chris said as he hugged her tightly.

  “Thanks so much,” Christy said and then hugged his wife Emily who smiled broadly.

  “Congratulations,” she said in her ear. “You guys look so happy.”

  “Thanks,” she said and reached for her husband’s hand and squeezed it. “I think we really, really are.” The hand in hers felt warm, and she thought it tingled a tiny bit – like a vibration.

  “I know you’ve been waiting for this,” Reed said with arms open and a frat boy smile. “You didn’t have to marry my loser roommate just to get a kiss from me, baby. All you had to do was ask.”

  Christy rolled her eyes but laughed at the familiar joke. She kissed their best friend and then hugged him tight.

  “Thanks, Reed,” she said.

  “For what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

  “For always being there for him,” she whispered in his ear. She knew that kind of thing embarrassed Ben terribly.

  Reed looked down at his feet for a moment and arched his eyebrows. When he looked at her again she saw perhaps the first serious face he had ever worn in her presence.

  “You got it all wrong there, sis,” he said, his voice a low conspiratorial whisper as he cut his eyes over at Ben who hugged Emily and laughed at some joke. “That man of yours is the best friend I ever had, and he’s the one takin’ care of me.”

  The words and Reed’s soft genuine voice touched something in her, or maybe it was just the surprise at hearing any of these men show real feelings, and she felt her eyes well. “Truth is I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that crazy Cajun.”

  She hugged Reed again, and he patted her uncomfortably on the back.

  “I love you both, sis.”

  He had never called her sis before today, and now he had done it twice. She liked it a lot and hoped it stuck.

  And, then Reed headed off toward the makeshift bar they had arranged on the expansive deck a short wooden path away from the gazebo. Walking the plank they had called it at the retirement ceremony, and the memory made her laugh. She watched Reed a moment, worried about the obvious limp, and then looked over at her husband. His eyes caught hers and sparkled.

  Then, Amy was shrieking congratulations in her ear and bouncing up and down and the moment left. But she kept it with her while they drank, laughed, and ate the little wedding cake Ben had insisted they buy.

  Amy got pretty wrecked and for a while Christy worried she would hook up with Reed (and with some guilt she worried mo
re that it would suck for Reed than for her friend). Other than that, she took away only happy memories of an afternoon with their closest friends in the world. She had never put much stock in the magic wedding day thing. To her it seemed more like the kick-off for the really good stuff – the life together. So many of her friends had wrapped themselves in the fairy tale of only that first day, and that always seemed kind of sad. So, she felt genuine surprise that this had been the happiest and most fulfilling day of her entire life.

  A great start to the long life she intended with the man she cherished.

  Chapter 19

  He loved these men, but not as much as this woman. He realized he really wanted to be alone with his wife and tell her all the things the day had meant to him. Ben grinned at the thought. He must be with the right woman if she could make him look forward to talking about feelings.

  He watched Reed slow dance with Amy, and they both stumbled around the uneven deck. No one else danced. They had some music playing, but it had been meant as background noise only. “Mood music,” Christy had called it. That didn’t seem to bother either of their drunken friends as they shuffled around the deck to David Gray’s anything-but-dance-music sounds. He saw that each had a handful of the other’s ass cheek. Ben took a sip of red wine (he couldn’t remember what kind she had told him it was) and leaned over to his new wife.

  “Please tell me that is not going to happen,” he whispered as they watched their friends. Christy giggled.

  “Oh, God, I hope not,” she whispered back. “That would be a tough couple of weeks for all of us.”

  He laughed and looked closely at her smiling face. She felt his gaze and looked over, one eyebrow up.

  “What?” she asked and sipped her own wine.

  “I love you so much,” he said. He couldn’t believe how easily those once difficult words now came.