Blackwater Lights

by Michael M. Hughes

  All the best,

  Denny

  NSA—the National Security Agency. But what could the NSA have wanted with a bunch of preadolescent kids?

  And then it hit him: his uncle Bill, who had persuaded Ray’s mother to let him go on the camping trip, had worked for “the government.” And that’s all he ever said—that he worked for the government. Never any details. And the NSA was headquartered in Fort Meade, not too far from Baltimore.

  It was too bad Uncle Bill had long ago rotted away and died in a run-down nursing home. No answers there.

  The cat meowed, a thin and plaintive whine. It sat in front of the kitchen closet, looking at him with its pathetic eyes.

  “All right,” Ray said. He opened the door. Stacks of canned tuna lined the bottom shelf.

  “I see. Hungry, are we?”

  The cat looked into his eyes and cried.

  Ray reached in and grabbed a can. The cat weaved against his legs as he opened the tuna, rubbing the side of its head against his ankles, pirouetting and crying. It attacked the food as soon as he put it down, gobbling the shreds of fish in seconds. Ray filled a bowl of water and set it next to the food. It lapped up the water—slap slap slap—until nothing was left but a thin puddle.

  He called Ellen at the diner. She had worked an early morning shift and was getting off after lunch, and she wanted to take him to see the Hand.

  Chapter Thirteen

  William sat in the backseat of Ellen’s truck. “Why are we going all the way out here for a picnic?” he asked.

  “I want to show Mr. Ray something cool,” she said.

  Ray leaned back. “Ray—you can just call me Ray.”

  William smiled. “Okay, Ray.”

  Ellen turned. He wasn’t used to seeing her outside of the fluorescent lights of the diner, and in the sunlight she seemed to glow. She’d let her hair down, too, and it blew about in the wind. “It’s such a nice day. We can park at the reservoir and hike to the Hand.”

  “I heard it’s scary,” William said. “Kids at school say teenagers go there and light fires and do drugs and stuff.”

  “It’s not scary. It’s kind of nice.”

  William shrugged.

  They pulled off at a gravel parking lot next to a spillway. The water rushed loudly over concrete and down into a concrete-lined culvert. Ray grabbed a soft cooler out of the backseat and William jumped out of the car.

  The anxiety began building the minute they walked through the opening in the trees. At first Ray dismissed it. His breakfast wasn’t sitting well, and he was sweating. Ellen didn’t seem to notice, and William was having too much fun running ahead of them along the trail. But after about fifteen minutes, he noticed his entire body shaking. Ellen reached out and took his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  She frowned. “Your hands are clammy. Do you want to go back?”

  He shook his head. “No. How far are we?”

  “About ten minutes or so. It’s right over the ridge up there.”

  “You guys are too slow,” William yelled. He was far down the trail and waving.

  “Let’s go,” Ray said.

  His anxiety mounted as they approached the ridge. Ellen kept glancing at him. It felt as if he was approaching something terrible, like a horrific car accident or a gruesome murder scene. He wished he hadn’t eaten such a greasy breakfast because it seemed like it might come back up. And his lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air.

  William reached the ridge before they did. “Wow,” he shouted. “Mom, this is cool.” He disappeared over the hill.

  “Wait for us,” Ellen yelled after him, but it was too late.

  Each step toward the top of the hill was torture. Ray had once run a marathon, a few years after he’d graduated from college, and he’d been fine until the eighteenth mile, when his body began to rebel, his legs cramping up, his feet going numb, and his breath catching in his throat. He’d bailed out and vomited along the roadside next to a flower vendor, who promptly grabbed his bucket of roses and moved elsewhere. His body was rebelling similarly now, and his intuition was screaming for him to stop, just stop, turn around, and run in the other direction.

  He reached the top of the hill.

  “Are you okay?”

  He wasn’t okay. Not at all.

  “Ray?”

  He’d been there before. Five angular, jutting pillars of rock, in a rough circle, like a giant hand pushing out of a shallow grave. The hand of a stone monster, or a rocky skeleton, bone gray and spotted with green moss. William stood in the center of the stones, and it looked as if the fingers would close around him, crushing him.

  Ray’s knees buckled and the cooler dropped from his hand. He felt a rushing sensation, as if the hand were pulling him, drawing him into its cold grasp.

  He’d been in that circle, with the other children, under the stars. They’d been chanting something, strange words, over and over, holding each other’s hands tightly. The memory was so vivid and electric and terrifying it was almost as if he were there again.

  And then came the light—blinding, painful light.

  Ellen’s face materialized above him. She was saying something, but he didn’t understand her words. Then William’s face, pale with wide eyes, moved into his vision. He tried to sit up, but Ellen held him down.

  “Is he gonna be okay, Mom?”

  He closed his eyes. They still burned from the light.

  After a minute he opened his eyes. Ellen was wiping his forehead with a wet paper towel. “I think I can sit up,” he said.

  She helped him right himself. He immediately crawled to the edge of the trail and vomited. After the heaving stopped he pulled himself away from the steaming mess and put his head against Ellen’s leg. “I think I’m all right now,” he said. Ellen gave him a travel bottle of mouthwash from her purse, and he washed out his mouth and spat into the dirt.

  “Can you walk back?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  William was quiet in the car. Ellen held Ray’s hand as she drove, squeezing it reassuringly and watching him with a nurse’s eye.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said.

  “Don’t worry. Are you feeling better?”

  He nodded. “I think maybe I ate something bad for breakfast. Food poisoning.”

  She gave him a quick glance.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you, William.”

  William looked out the window. “It’s cool.” He was quieter than usual, still spooked.

  With every mile they drove away from the rocks Ray felt the tension and fear draining from him. When they turned back onto the four-lane highway, he even began to get hungry. “Let’s have a picnic somewhere else,” he said.

  Ellen lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. It looks like it might rain, but I want to have some fun before it does. Right, William?”

  William shrugged. “Sure. As long as you’re not gonna barf again.”

  After a picnic in the municipal park, they piled back into the truck just as rain began to splatter against the windshield. No one had spoken about the earlier incident.

  “I’m going to drop William off at my sister’s,” Ellen said.

  William groaned. “Can’t I stay with you guys?”

  “I told Aunt Peggy you were coming over.”

  “I hate it there,” he said. “All she does is watch TV.”

  Ellen narrowed her eyes. She was cute when she was angry, her eyes squinty and her cheeks pushed out. “You can get some writing done. Ray and I have some talking to do.”

  Talking to do?

  William crossed his arms and stared out the window.

  After they dropped off William, Ellen drove away from her sister’s house and stopped at the end of the road. “I’d like to make you dinner. I don’t know how much longer you’re going to be around, and I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can before you leave.” The winds
hield wipers squeaked. “I’m sorry if that’s too forward, but that’s just the way I am.”

  He laughed. “I like you the way you are. Yes, of course I’ll have dinner.”

  She smiled and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “One more thing. While I’m on a roll. I want you to kiss me. Before I have to kiss you. Because you can’t seem to take a hint to save your life. So, please. I’m old-fashioned like that. Be a gentleman and do it.”

  He kissed her. Her lips opened, and he slid his hands behind her back and pulled her closer. They kissed hard. Before long they were as close to each other as the shifter allowed.

  She pulled away first. “Let’s go back to my place, shall we?”

  “Only if you promise more of that.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “I don’t promise. You have to earn another.”

  “I’ll be on my best behavior, ma’am.”

  She pulled his hand from her thigh and placed it on his lap. “I certainly hope that isn’t the case.”

  “You’re a great cook,” Ray said.

  “I know. Glad you liked it. I learned everything from my mother, and she learned it all from Julia Child.”

  Her kitchen was small but bright and tidy. William’s robot battle sketches hung on the walls and the refrigerator. “I really like William.”

  “He thinks you’re the bomb.” She stretched out the word. “Except for the puking thing. He thought you were invincible before that.”

  Ray laughed.

  “I’m really happy you showed up at Doris’s. I knew you were special right off the bat.”

  Special. Lily had called him that, too. “I’m no more special than anyone else. But I do feel especially lucky that I met you.”

  She stood, hands on her hips. “I think these dishes can wait until tomorrow.”

  “I agree. I can think of some other things I’d rather be doing.”

  She stepped behind him and slid her arms around his chest. She whispered in his ear, “You may proceed with that other kiss now, sir. I’ll take it from there.”

  Rain and wind rattled the bedroom windows. Ellen propped her elbow on the pillow and kissed Ray’s forearm. Her face and chest were still flushed from their lovemaking. “What about the last girlfriend? How long ago was it?”

  “We broke up a little over a year ago,” he said. “We were together for five years.”

  “Why didn’t you get married? You didn’t want to?”

  “She didn’t want to.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Lots of reasons. Different goals. Her lifestyle was a little too fast for my taste. And she didn’t want kids.”

  Ellen leaned closer. “Neither did I,” she said. “Not then, at least. Not when I got pregnant. But now I can’t imagine life without William.”

  “He’s a great kid. Really sharp. And I can see where he gets it.”

  She slid closer. The smell of her skin made him want to never get out of bed. “You wanted to have children?”

  “I didn’t think I did. Didn’t think too much about it, really. But then my sister’s son got leukemia. He was really sick.”

  Ellen kissed his arm again. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “He’s okay now,” Ray said. “Beautiful boy. And lucky. When I was his age, it would have been a death sentence. But he had good insurance—my sister’s a public-school teacher, too—and he got excellent treatment. He’s almost sixteen now. No more cancer.”

  “And that changed you.”

  “Yeah. We don’t have a big family, so I went to see him a lot in the hospital to relieve my sister. He was amazing—even during the worst of his chemo, he kept our spirits up. Being with him was like therapy for the rest of us. And it made me start thinking about what I wanted.” He blinked and rubbed his eyes. “And I didn’t just want to be around kids. I get plenty of that teaching, I can assure you. But at the end of the day, they all went home to their families, and I went home to a house with just me and Lisa. She was always working on her art, and I’d grade papers and plan my lessons, and I realized we were both getting older, and one day it would be just the two of us in a big, empty house. I didn’t like that picture.”

  “So what was she like? Your girlfriend?”

  Ray sighed. “Fun. She was an artist. A painter. Big, wild abstract canvases. I think she always hated the fact that she was stuck in Baltimore with me. Most of her good friends lived in New York. She moved there after we split up. I know she’s happier.”

  “I went to New York once,” Ellen said. “With my cousin. We stole my aunt’s credit card and took the bus from Morgantown. We spent all day at the Harley-Davidson Café because it was the only place we could find that took Discover cards. I was grounded for three months after that.”

  Ray laughed.

  “So that’s the thing that broke up your relationship? Kids?”

  Ray stared at the cracks in the ceiling. “Yeah. Among other things. But I didn’t want to miss out on having a family.”

  “Well, I can tell you’d make a great father. You have a gentleness about you. And you really listen to William. Most adults just ignore him.” She stroked his hair.

  He kissed her hand. “What about William’s father?”

  Her expression flattened. “It’s a long story. And not a good one.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “We knew each other in high school. And hated each other’s guts. But he was a really sweet guy. When I finally learned that sweet guys were better than jerks—and you’d be surprised how long that took—we got together. Things got serious really fast. But then he joined the army after 9/11. Nothing I said could stop him—he wanted to fight. I got pregnant right before he shipped out to Iraq, so that was the end of my nursing school days. He came back on leave and we got married.” She wiped at her eyes. “He was gone for a year and a half, came home, then deployed again. When he came back the second time, he was a different person. It was like somebody I didn’t know just showed up inside his body. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Wouldn’t touch me. He was a stranger. And William didn’t understand it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ray said.

  “William tried to break through. He really did. But Steve—my ex—he’d seen too much in Iraq. Felt too much. He needed help, but he was too ashamed to ask for it, and the nearest VA hospital is hours away. He just withdrew from us. I tried, for William’s sake, to help him. I tried to stay cheerful and be the good wife, to try to help him remember who he used to be. The man I loved. But he wasn’t that person anymore and couldn’t pretend to be. And I couldn’t pretend, either. He agreed to a divorce, no contest.”

  “How did William take it?”

  “Like every kid does. He was devastated. His world fell apart.” She shook her head. “He loved his father, or the person he wanted his father to be. But he’s a smart boy. I think he understands that it’s not Steve’s fault. I think he understands that the things that happened to his daddy are the problem.”

  “He’s perceptive,” Ray said.

  “I call him gifted. I trust his instincts more than my own. Which is why I knew you were okay. He took a liking to you right away. He doesn’t do that with just anybody.”

  “He’s lucky to have you. Really lucky.”

  She sighed. “It’s hard. Even with his father helping out, we barely make ends meet. I feel bad bringing him to work, but sometimes I can’t afford not to. I wish I could get back into nursing, but it’s not going to happen. At least not until he’s grown up.”

  Ray kissed her, his tongue lingering. He slid his hand under the sheets and down across her stomach. “You can be my nurse. In fact, there’s something I need you to take a look at. Right here. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  “Hmm,” she said. “Looks a little swollen. Let me have a closer look.”

  Thunder woke them both.

  Ellen pulled herself against him. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” she said sleepily. “I’m worr
ied about all this poking around you’re doing. And after what happened to you at the Hand … that really scared the crap out of me.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said.

  She buried her face in his chest. The silence was awkward and charged. He wanted to say so much more, and knew she did, too. But it was too soon. Saying too much could jinx it. The whole thing had happened so fast.

  “I wish you could stay here all morning, but you should probably go soon. My sister will be bringing William home. It might be a little weird for him.”

  He got up from the bed, then bent over and kissed her forehead. “I’m going to run to the library later. I forgot I was supposed to meet up with Denny for a drink last night, but some sexy little wench got me so worked up I forgot all about it.”

  “That poor guy. Now he’s really going to hate me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll apologize and buy him dinner to make up for it.” He pulled on his shirt. “I’ll call you in the afternoon.”

  She gave him a sharp look. “Damn straight you will,” she said.

  When he got to the library Denny wasn’t working, so he left a note with the assistant librarian. He stopped at a pay phone—the town still had at least one of those, thankfully—and called Kevin’s house. Nothing. Maybe he was on his way from the airport. At least he’d be home soon. He left a long message on Denny’s answering service, apologizing profusely and promising to treat him to a dinner at the restaurant of his choice. He hoped the librarian wasn’t deliberately avoiding him.

  He listened to the local radio station on the ride back to Kevin’s. Heavy rain in the forecast for the next few days, with possible flash flooding and warnings for those who lived near rivers. Great. He’d seen on Denny’s map how close Kevin’s house was to the Blackwater River.

  He still smelled Ellen’s floral perfume. They’d jumped on each other like lonely, affection-starved people. Which was what they were. And he couldn’t kid himself—he was falling for her. Hell, he’d already fallen. But how would they see each other once school began and he had to go back to teaching? Six hours from Baltimore to Blackwater every Friday night and six back home on Sunday nights? Impossible. He’d had a few long-distance relationships, none of which had endured more than a handful of months. If anything lasting was to come out of their possible relationship, one of them would have to move. With William in school and her sister and father living in Blackwater, it wasn’t like she’d want to be the one to uproot. And even if there were teaching jobs nearby, which was doubtful, there was no way in hell he’d want to live in this—what was the word Denny had used? This far too Fortean town.