Red Ochre Falls

by Kristen Gibson

  Garrett offered up a plain white food bag on his desk. After he handed me a club sandwich with pickles, I took a few bites and practically moaned it was so good, or maybe I was just extremely hungry. Fear can make a person ravenous, right?

  He asked me point-blank what happened. I took a huge bite and smiled while contemplating what to say.

  “I was threatened by a lunatic.” I bit off another corner of the sandwich and chewed.

  A flash of hurt or anger crossed his face. His jaw tightened and he glared at me. He sat his sandwich on a wrapper and leaned forward. “I need to know everything.”

  “Everything?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Everything.”

  I filled him in on all the details I could remember about the super strong and scary guy. The way he easily grabbed and lifted me off the ground, and how I couldn’t see him because of his sneak attack from behind, and my absolute fear and inability to defend myself.

  As Garrett listened, his jaw clenched and a big vein popped out on his neck. I stopped, but he signaled me to continue. I explained that I offered the guy my bag, but he refused, and instead threatened me to stay out of other people’s business, or else worse things would happen.

  Garrett stared silently and let everything sink in as I finished. He looked angry. Maybe I’d said too much. Retelling the ordeal hit me hard and I started to cry. He came over right away and reassured me things would be okay.

  “Mattie,” he softened. “You’ve been through a lot today. You need to eat and drink something. When Millie gets back we’ll give you whatever pain reliever she thinks is best and we’ll get you upstairs so you can sleep.” He gave me a reassuring touch, but my body hurt so much I winced. He pulled his hand away and pushed my sandwich toward me so I’d eat. It smelled good, like fresh baked bread and deliciousness. I took a bite, but was so tired it took me longer to chew the crusty bread. I washed it down with a cold soda, and went for another bite.

  “You know, I’ve been in some pretty bad situations over the years, and I think I can help you through this.” Garrett pulled up an office chair and sat next to me. “If you’ll let me.” He looked hurt or maybe just tired, like me. My eyes drooped. I could have fallen asleep right there at the desk. When my head snapped back, I sipped some more soda and tried to look awake.

  “I appreciate it.” I was reluctant to feel anything about him, or his generous offer, because it would mean feeling pain, and I just didn’t know if I could handle more pain than I already felt. He probably offered help just to be nice, or because he felt guilty and wanted to reassure me. Probably nothing more would come of it, I thought.

  What he said next surprised me. “After you get some sleep, we’re going to hit the gym.”

  It didn’t make sense, maybe he worked out to let off steam. Judging by his massive arms he looked like he did it a lot. But, I was far from functional, in case he’d missed it, and not in the most physically capable condition. Going to the gym seemed like a really bad idea. When I gave him a look to that effect, he shook his head to indicate we were going to hit the gym even if he had to drag me there. Fine. Whatever he thought best, but only after I’d slept a very long time. Only, I didn’t know if I could sleep through phone duty.

  Phone duty was part of the work we did for the Mackenzie Family. As the answering service, we fielded after-hours business calls. All. Night. Long. And these business calls were not just, “Hi, thanks for calling. I’ll take a message,” mind you. These were death calls. Not from actual dead people, but from loved ones, nursing homes, physicians, caregivers and friends. These were some truly hard calls. I thought getting yelled at over the phone for late or burnt pizzas was bad, this was worse.

  The people who called us were in all sorts of moods, mostly sad, shocked, or crying. It’s not the time to fake a good mood (grinning wildly), “Hi there, how may we help you?” Here we needed to be serious and alert. You couldn’t give callers what they truly wanted—the return of their loved ones. It’s tough to deal with such raw emotion: regret, anger and sadness. Mom told me to listen and be sympathetic to callers because they probably lost somebody they loved.

  A funeral home gets all kinds of calls: calls about flower deliveries, caskets, obituaries, and people asking for viewing times and directions. The list goes on, but the most difficult calls are death calls. Sometimes a caller will get right to the point, but sometimes they can’t. You listen, let them grieve, and when it’s really bad, cry along with them. It happened to me once already.

  I hated death calls because it meant the end of a life. I hated that we moved here, and we had to be alert when most normal people slept. Mostly, I hated death. Spending a prime part of my life in a place of death sucked. But at least I had him…

  I must have looked ridiculous staring at Garrett, because he laughed. What? Did I drool? He smiled as I came back from la-la-land. I ended up there a lot more than usual. We ate quietly for several minutes. Shortly after, Millie opened the door.

  “All right, girl. I got what ya needed to get rid of that fiery pain. Here. Drink this.” She pulled a small vial out of her purse and handed it to me firmly. The dark blue vial must have been a little smaller than my finger.

  “Before I take this, I need to know if it’ll make me drowsy.” Millie laughed a big belly laugh and Garrett nearly fell off his chair. I took it as affirmation that the super pain killer, potion, or whatever she called it would knock me out. “If so, I’ll have to pass because it’s my night to man the phones.” I was too chicken to go through with it, so I milked it. “I promised mom.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got the phones tonight.” Garrett pushed the vial up toward my mouth. “Drink ‘da potion,” he tried do his best impression of Millie.

  I twisted off the black cap, did an air ‘Cheers’ and drank it down. My mouth puckered and I would have spit it out except Millie and Garrett were staring.

  They helped me upstairs to the apartment, it was the first time either of them had seen it fully furnished, but only partially decorated. We had more to do. A couple stacks of unpacked boxes sat in a kitchen corner near the table, but most everything else was put away. My legs felt heavier as we walked through the kitchen, past a table in living room and into the bedroom.

  The medicine hit me fast, but I was awake long enough to remember Garrett and Millie tucked me into bed. My body shivered when it hit the cool sheets then I crashed hard. I didn’t notice them leave.

  CHAPTER 9

  Sometime through the night I found myself dreaming of a grassy field. Along the edges of the green field were some hills, grassy knolls, which didn’t look like much at first. Once I stepped closer, they grew ten to fifteen feet around me. I heard a female voice nearby say something, but I couldn’t make out the words.

  I turned to find a young girl. She was in her late teens, or early twenties, and wore clothes of another era. She had on a long powder blue dress with a lacey white petticoat paired with white gloves. The girl searched for something. As I turned to face the direction she looked, I noticed a young native boy about the same age as the girl dart behind a tree. The tree was huge, and loaded with branches full of deep green foliage. As the wind picked up, sunlight glimmered through the leaves and hit the ground all around us. I looked back to the girl. She must not have seen the boy, or maybe he wasn’t what she searched for, because she kept looking. She threw her hands up and walked to the tree and sat down. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. My mouth opened wider, but no matter how hard I worked to make a noise, nothing came out. I tried harder to push out anything, even a breath, and panicked when my air supply cut off. My voice and breath were lost. I started to choke. I ran to the girl for help, but the scene went black before I reached her under the tree.

  I woke up choking and gasped for air. A coughing fit took over my body for a couple minutes until I realized my breathing was difficult because of an anxiety attack. I didn’t understand where the anxiety came from, except the weird dream, or the encounter I’d had
with Mr. Crazy. Slowly, and with some concentrated effort, my breathing regulated.

  As I sat up in bed, a huge sigh escaped. The day had started without me, my clock showed it was after nine, but I didn’t feel as much pain as I expected considering I got threatened and nearly crushed yesterday. I ran my hands through my hair and felt how desperately I needed a shower, but realized it was important to first find out how the business end of things went last night. I hit the office button and buzzed downstairs. Ryder answered.

  “What’s up?”

  “Um.” I didn’t know what to say. Did he know about what happened, or that Garrett covered the phones for me while I was passed out on Millie’s super-healing buzz-berry juice?

  “Phones?” was the most I could manage.

  “Garrett said he came in early,” Ryder told me. “So we’ve already got the phones. You know, you sound weird. Is everything okay?”

  Since Garrett covered for me, I tried to pull it together and act like everything was normal.

  “Yeah, just had a long day yesterday,” I said, and found a good reason for my call. “Hey, I’m in the mood for coffee and pastries. Just called to see if you know of any good places.” Whew, hopefully he bought it. I really was hungry, so it wasn’t far from the truth.

  “Yeah, there’s a place not too far from here. Come on down when you’re ready and I’ll give you the address.” We clicked off.

  I planned to check in with mom after breakfast, so I jumped in the shower and did my best to wash off the leftover fuzziness from heavy sleep. Who-knows what herbs and other assorted things Millie gave me to induce such rest and healing, but the pain was a tiny fraction of what it felt like yesterday. After a good cleanup, I got dressed in khakis and a t-shirt then motored downstairs.

  I needed some coffee, but the black stuff I saw in the pot downstairs looked and smelled like it had cooked for a few hours. Besides, I’d already asked Ryder if he knew of a good coffee shop. I walked past the dual burner coffee maker, some old news clippings hanging on the wall, and met him in the office.

  “Hey, I thought everyone was out enjoying the holiday weekend.”

  “Would be nice, except we got two in last night,” Ryder sounded miffed.

  “Oh.” I remembered nothing about last night except some details from my dream. “Why did you have to come in today?” It was Saturday of the holiday weekend.

  “See this calendar. We use it to divvy up evening, weekend and holiday coverage. It’s my weekend to cover family appointments.” Ryder pointed to a calendar pinned to the wall. It showed a lovely field of summery flowers, and the name Batesville Casket Company written at the bottom, the kind companies give their clients for the holidays and New Year. Each of the calendar squares had lines or names written in red. It was the same calendar Garrett used when he argued about holiday coverage several weeks ago, and the one mom showed me a few times since we’d been here, so I’d know who to call with questions and business emergencies.

  A typical end of day transition at the funeral home went like this: mom and I’d get an intercom call from downstairs, or get asked to come to the office; we’d review the client list; and get a business update before the office closed and everyone, but us, went home. We’d then answer incoming calls from a business phone in the apartment until the office opened up the following morning during weekdays, and for viewings, services, and special appointments on evenings and weekends. Each rundown included a quick bit about contacting them through the night or weekend, but the calendar was there in case anyone forgot. It was also on a server or the cloud, but not everything had gotten hooked-up, yet.

  These guys were on call, like doctors, and they were generally consistent, although Bert threw an occasional wrinkle in the calendar plans. I’d caught on to some areas of the business, but wasn’t totally clued in on why it was so urgent to hold meetings today. My hesitation must have shown.

  “We can’t have funerals unless clients or families make funeral arrangements. Since we have some new customers, I’m on the hook to help each family set up the funerals.”

  We heard a noise. “Sledge and Manny just brought in the second customer this morning, and Garrett’s taking care of the other preparations in the back room.” Ryder meant Garrett was embalming the bodies. It’s what they did to preserve them before viewings, funerals and burials. I’d learned Garrett embalmed bodies in addition to his normal funeral director duties. They hired Bert, a local embalmer they knew well, to help when business got busy. I wasn’t surprised Garrett was here, he’d offered to answer the phones, and I took the darn medicine before I asked any questions. Had he been here all night because of me? I felt bad it. Now, Garrett was taking care of Bert’s bodies—Bert left Garrett hanging last holiday, and was supposed to make it up this weekend—I wondered what happened to Bert.

  “Anyway,” Ryder continued. “We can’t wait to have the family meeting until Tuesday—while I enjoy my holiday weekend—it would push the funerals further into next week, and bodies don’t stay fresh for long.”

  I winced at the though of ripened bodies, because it’s what he implied.

  “Oops, didn’t mean to gross you out. It’s not too bad usually, but we are on a timeline out of respect for the dead and their families.”

  Just then Sledge and Manny came into the office laughing about something. When Ryder asked what was so funny, Manny spoke up. “I got a joke. Wanna hear it?”

  Ryder looked at me then we both looked at Sledge who shrugged. I thought his response meant ‘proceed with caution’, but before we could say anything, Manny told the joke.

  “There are these two funeral directors standing over a full casket prepping a body for burial. One funeral director sees the other tying the dead man’s shoes and asks, ‘Why are you tying his shoelaces together?’ The other director looks at the first and says, ‘So that when the Zombie Apocalypse comes, I’ve got a better chance at getting away.’ Hah-hah-hah!” Manny burst out laughing like a hyena and the rest of us laughed just hearing him.

  After a pause, Sledge stepped forward and nodded. He was dressed in heavy overalls and big black shoes.

  “Boss,” he said to Ryder. “Wanted to make sure we settle up before the holiday, if you know what I mean.”

  Ryder looked around and found a standard white envelope sitting on Hank’s desk. He picked it up and handed it to Sledge. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks,” Sledge responded as he peeked inside. “Appreciate the business.” He nodded to Ryder then spoke to me. “Got any plans for the weekend?”

  “Actually, I’ll be here. I’m answering phones while my mom is visiting grandpa.” I regretted it as soon as I’d said it.

  Manny stepped close to me. “Need any company?”

  Garrett pushed through the door, maybe he heard us laughing and wondered what was happening. “Off limits, Manny,” Garrett said firmly.

  Sledge grabbed Manny by the scruff of his shirt, pulled him backward and gave him a scary look.

  “Hey, c’mon, I was just kidding guys.” Manny looked at me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disrespect.”

  My lips tightened into a half smile as I accepted his apology. It still made me uncomfortable to think he knew I was going to be alone here for a couple days.

  “It’s just you’re kinda hot, and all,” Manny no sooner go the words out when Sledge slapped him on the back of the head and shoved Manny toward the door.

  “Look, he’s mostly harmless, just not the sharpest tool in the shed. We’ll get out of your hair now. Call us if you need anything,” Sledge said trying to recover. Garrett gave a nod and they left. We heard them bickering on their way out the back. Hopefully, Sledge was right and Manny was just awkward, not harmful.

  “He may have something with the whole shoe tying thing,” Ryder broke the silence. We laughed. “Okay, maybe not, but a little humor every now and then never hurt anybody.”

  Garrett seemed to loosen up a little, but tension remained in his shoulders even after we started j
oking about Manny’s Zombie Apocalypse.

  We talked briefly about the weather before Ryder mentioned the coffee shop. Somehow I offered to pick up coffees for everyone. It was okay though, because Ryder gave me cash to pay for all our goodies, and I really didn’t mind helping out. The phone rang and Garrett offered to walk me to my car while Ryder stepped into the back hall to take a phone call.

  “It’s his bookie.” Garrett smiled for the first time since he walked in on Manny’s inappropriate comments.

  I didn’t mind being considered kinda hot, but it wasn’t Manny’s attention I wanted. Besides, it was intimidating since I barely knew the guy, and he and Sledge came here a lot.

  Garrett sensed my uneasiness. “Look, you’re safe, he’s gone. I’ll have a talk with him, and it’ll be okay.” Muscles tightened in his neck, and I wondered if he really planned to talk to Manny, or do something worse.

  When we got outside by my car, Garrett’s eyes were trained on me. I didn’t think they could get more beautiful, but the sunlight made them glow. I blushed and looked toward the car.

  “I mean it. You’re safe here.” Garrett started to move forward until something stopped him.

  “Mattie,” Derek said. “I hoped to find you here.” He beamed at me then eyed Garrett. There was a brief stare down before I spoke.

  “Hi,” I responded, eager to break up the testosterone match. “I’m here.”

  “Good, are you free this weekend?” Derek asked.

  “I…um…”

  “Actually, she’s booked.” Garrett answered for me and I’m fairly sure he mumbled ‘forever’ under his breath.

  “I didn’t ask you,” Derek went beet read. He was noticeably ticked off as spoke to Garrett. “I asked the lady, if she was free this weekend.” He did his best to smile at me. “Mattie, are you busy?”