Aspen Vale: A Tale of the Gone

by Lopeman, Kenneth

  Jake barked a laugh. “He’s a good man. He raised three good children.”

  “You haven’t done so bad yourself. Seth came and visited me last night. Talked to me for a while, while Tom sat in the corner and snored. And how is Katie?”

  “She’s a spitfire, like her mother. I don’t know if she knows you are about to make the journey.”

  “Just as well,” said Mother Harper. “She’s still small, and she’ll get enough exposure to Lord Jezias when you burn me.”

  Jake hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll have to explain to her that you weren’t really Mother Christmas. I think that will hit her the hardest.”

  Mother Harper cackled at that. She had played Mother Christmas for years, that aspect of the Mother that would come in the winter and give gifts, to remind her children that she loved them. Katie had clung to that, just sure that Mother Christmas didn’t live in the North like the stories said, but right there in town. “She’s a sweet girl,” Mother Harper said when she stopped chuckling. “You tell her Mother Christmas said so.”

  Jake nodded, overcome for a moment. He sat down in the chair Tom had been in, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. Mother Harper reached out a hand and squeezed his knee. Jake wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mother,” he said. “I came here to comfort you.”

  “Don’t think another thought on that, Jake Larkin. It’s nice to know that so many people will miss me. Makes me think that maybe I did something right.” She patted him on the knee, and then leaned back into the bed. “Jake, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Jake didn’t hesitate. “Anything,” he said.

  Mother Harper took a deep breath, and looked toward the nightstand. That meant Jake couldn’t ignore what was on it any longer. “Tom isn’t sure he can do it. Go through with… closing the way,” she said. “I was hoping, if he’s not able to do it… As close as you were to my Tom, it was like you were another son. Would you be able to?”

  Jake tried to speak, but found he couldn’t. She was offering him a great honor. But looking at the hammer on the nightstand, alongside that thick metal spike, he couldn’t help but remember how hard it had been for him to perform the closing on his own parents. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, Mother Harper. If Tom can’t do it, I will.”

  Jake could see some of the tension ease from Mother Harper. “Mother be blessed. I would rather Tom did it, but if he can’t, I want a loved one to start my journey for me. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Tom. He’ll be relieved, I’m sure.”

  Jake nodded, overcome. They spent some more time talking, mostly about the trouble that he and Tom had gotten into as teenagers, until Mother Harper told him she was feeling tired. He nodded, falling silent as she drifted off to sleep. Later, he wouldn’t remember most of what was said that day. But he’d remember the look on her face, so peaceful and carefree. Making sure her breath was slow and even, he quietly slipped out the door.

  As soon as he entered the hallway, the sound of snoring filled the hall. Looking into the next door, he saw his friend Tom sprawled out on his bed, fast asleep. Smiling, he closed his friend's door and walked into the living room. His wife and son were still talking quietly to the Harpers. They all looked up as he came into the room. “Mother Harper?” asked Fran.

  “Sleeping,” said Jake. “I came to get Tom, but I think his vigil finally caught up with him.”

  “That’s alright, Mr. Larkin. I can stand vigil for Granny till Dad wakes up,” said Abby. As she stood, he saw Seth gazing at her adoringly, though he immediately looked down at his shoes when he saw his father noticing. Not that Jake could blame his son. Abby had Tom’s red hair and skin tone, and was rapidly growing into womanhood. She smiled at Seth as she left the room, which brought color to his son’s cheeks.

  Thankfully, Tommy Jr. didn’t notice the effect his sister was having on Seth. And when had Little Tommy gotten so big? It didn’t feel right to call a boy with that much of his man’s size “little,” even though he was still dwarfed by his father. In fact, he looked almost exactly like his father had at seventeen, right down to the tangled mess of red curls on his head. Feeling old, he sat down on the other couch with a sigh, next to his wife. “Are you OK, hon?” she asked him.

  He was just opening his mouth to answer when Marty Martinez came to the Harper’s door. “Sorry, Captain, I know you’re busy….but the Mayor is at the door asking for you.”

  Jake cursed under his breath. “Tell him I’ll be right there, he said.

  Beth let out a sigh. “Can’t they even let you alone for a vigil?”

  “Apparently not,” Jake replied, getting up with a groan. His legs still ached from the day before, yet another reminder that he wasn't as young as he used to be. “I’ll be right back.”

  When Jake got to the door, Mayor Townsend was already waiting for him. “Ah, Jake. I heard about Mother Harper, and I knew I’d find you here.”

  “Mother Harper was dear to me. It is the will of Lord Jezias that a person’s loved ones stand vigil when they begin their journey,” Jake said, his voice hard.

  “And I do not presume to thwart the will of the Lord of Death,” said Townsend, drawing an x on his chest to ward off the ill omen. “But you did promise to meet with the Kenoshan today, and he’s being very insistent.”

  “He can insist all he wants. Don’t they stand vigil in Kenosha? This comes first.”

  “Actually, apparently they don’t worship the Three in Kenosha. He calls himself a Chris Tan, whatever the hell that means.”

  “Christian.” Jake cursed softly before going on. “It’s what the Jezzites down there call themselves. There is a large sect of them in Jefferson Valley, clinging to ancient rituals. Why would they send someone so backward to entreat with us?”

  “Good question. Why don’t you ask him? And we still need to know what happened at Three Ponds.”

  Jake put a hand to his forehead. “Look, Bill, I know this is important to you, and almost certainly to the Jezzite. But not today.”

  “Yes, Jake. Today.” Now the mayor’s voice turned hard. “The Kenoshan has made us wait long enough with his insistence that he had to talk to you personally, and the Council needs to know why he is here. You are Scout Captain, and you have a responsibility to this valley, that you can’t put off whenever...”

  Jake drew himself up to his full height. Suddenly he was glad he had not shaved; Beth had always told him that the beard made him look fierce. ‘I’m only going to say this one more time, Mr. Mayor,” he said, heaping the title with scorn. “Mother Harper is making her journey. I am standing vigil. If the Kenoshan has a problem with it, he can go home and leave us in peace. And if you have a problem with it, Townsend, you can damn well try to do something about it. And don’t ever insinuate that I don’t do my job again. When have you ever done anything for this valley that didn’t involve pressing your lips to someone’s ass?”

  Townsend, to his credit, did not cower. Instead, he drew himself up looked Jake in the eye. “I am the elected leader of the people, Scout Captain Larkin. You take direction from me. Not the other way around. It isn’t as if YOUR mother is passing.”

  “You want to leave, Townsend,” said Jake, his hands balling into fists. “Right now.”

  “Just because you’re a fighter doesn’t mean you can bully me into letting you have your way,” Townsend spat. “You have a responsibility to the people of this town, a responsibility you accepted when you accepted the rank of Captain. I am asking you for a few hours of your time. You are being unreasonable and, quite frankly, you are not acting like someone who should have the authority you do.”

  Intellectually, Jake knew that Townsend was at least partly right. He was emotional; the last week had been hell, and even coming home had proved to be no relief. He knew that he should be more diplomatic with the Mayor, no matter how much of an ass he thought Townsend was being. Unfortunately, that information did not get to his hand before it had plowed into the mayor’s soft belly. Townsend let ou
t a groan as his breath escaped him, just in time to see the other fist heading toward his face. The mayor closed his eyes….but the punch never arrived. When he opened them, he saw Hernando Martinez holding Jake’s wrist. “No, Captain, you don’t want to do this,” he was saying.

  “The hell I don’t, Jake replied. “He’s had that coming for a long time.”

  Marty didn’t argue the point. “We must keep Mother Harpers vigil in peace,” he said softly.

  Something about the way he said it calmed Jake, and he dropped the arm. Giving Townsend a baleful glare, he leaned back against the wall just outside the door, letting the anger drain out of him. Even as it left, though, a deep emptiness seemed to fill him. Jake sat down hard on the snowy ground and burst into tears, unmindful of the cold. Marty sat down with him and put an arm around his shoulders, while the mayor tried to straighten himself out. It looked like Townsend was going to say something more, but a quick shake of the head from Marty warned him not to. Instead, the honorable mayor turned and left. Jake didn’t even notice.

  Seth Larkin stepped back into the Harper’s small apartment, and back to the couch where his mother was sitting. “I think Dad just punched the mayor,” he announced.

  “Your father did what?” asked Mother, incredulously.

  “Seriously? And I missed it? Damn,” said Tommy.

  Mother gave his friend a look before standing. “You boys stay here,” she said, before sweeping past Seth and out the door. Seth shook his head at Tommy before sitting down. His friend, for his part, seemed unrepentant. That was generally the way with Tommy, though; speak first, don’t think after.

  “I don’t think your Mom likes me, Lark,” said Tommy once Mother had been gone awhile.

  “She likes you plenty,” said Seth, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s just all bothered by the kak that’s going on. Dad coming home late, your grandma getting sick, now Dad punching the mayor…”

  “Was it a good punch? Did he lay him out?”

  “I didn’t exactly see.”

  Tommy made a disappointed noise. “Oh, well. It’s still a good story.”

  Seth just shook his head. He knew his mother would have been mortified to hear his friend talk like this while Mother Harper was preparing for her journey. Tommy had always been irreverent, making jokes where they probably shouldn’t be made. “It’s rud, you know,” Seth said to him.

  ”What is?”

  “It’s alright to be sad. No one is going to think less of you.”

  Tommy snorted. “What? I mean, sure I’m sad, but it’s no big deal, right? People die all the time. We give Jezias his due...”

  “LORD Jezias,” Seth interjected.

  Tommy went on as if he hadn’t heard Seth speak, “…and then we all get on with our lives. I don’t know why people make such a big deal of it. And don’t go getting all soft on me, Lark. I already have a sister. I don’t need another one.”

  Seth sighed and leaned back into the couch. He knew Tommy well enough to know that this was all for show. But Tommy had a temper. If Seth called him out on it, Tommy might decide it was alright to grieve. He might also treat him to the same gentle courtesy his father had just given the mayor. “Do you think your Dad will be alright?” he asked instead.

  “What, the old man? Sure. Nothing will get him down for long. He was like this when Nate died, too. It’s sort of like this is Nate’s vigil for him, not just Grandma’s.”

  Seth nodded. Nathan had been several years older than Tommy and Abby, and had no interest in hay farming. Instead, he had gone to the Ranch, and had been working as a cattle hand. No one had stood a vigil for Nate Harper, though. They had been out with the herd when a freak spring storm had hit, causing a stampede. On the steep slopes of the Ranch’s grazing pastures, there weren’t a lot of places for stampeding cattle to go. They hadn’t found what was left of Nathan Harper until two days later. The Ranchers performed Nate’s ceremony, such as it was.

  “Besides,” Tommy continued through Seth’s reverie, “we really don’t know for sure Grandma is going to die. She’s a tough old bat. She put up with my old man, didn’t she? She’ll pull through.”

  Seth nodded, but didn’t say anything. He had sat vigil with Mother Harper. There was a… smell… about the room that didn’t leave much room for doubt, at least in Seth’s mind. He had thought about asking her about it; no one knew more than Mother Harper. But he didn’t want to seem rude, either. No one liked to be told they stank, no matter the cause. It was clear that Mother Harper would soon die, if not to this sickness than probably the next one. But if Tommy wanted to fool himself a bit longer, Seth wasn’t going to contradict him.

  After a long silence, Tommy spoke again. “So, are you still up for it?”

  Seth shrugged uncomfortably. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea. If Lord Jezias IS coming for your grandmother…”

  “He’s not. And even if he was, Granny will give him such a hard time he won’t notice us.”

  “He brought the world to its knees, Tommy. I’m pretty sure he can split his attention.”

  Tommy snorted. “You’re backing out. I knew you would.”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “Fine. You win. But we wait till we know your grandma is better. Or till a day or two after Lord Jezias claims her. Deal?”

  Tommy chucked, shaking his head. “Fine. I can live with that. I’m gonna get some air. Join me?”

  “Nah. I don’t want to see what my dad is doing to the Mayor out there. You go on though.”

  Tommy nodded and headed out the door. Seth waited a few moments, to see if he would come back. Then he got up and made his way to Mother Harper’s room. He opened the door slowly, making sure he wasn’t interrupting any conversation between the sick woman and her granddaughter. As it happened, Mother Harper was still sleeping. Abby looked up at him and smiled. Seth’s heart skipped a beat. Even in the flickering light cast by the fire in the sick room, the sight of her made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

  “Hey, Seth,” she said, clearly not noticing. “Did you want to take over? I just got here; I’m good for a while.”

  “Sure… I mean, err, no, you can stay. I mean…” Seth paused, running a hand through his hair nervously. “I… maybe I can sit vigil with you? At least for a while. Keep you company, you know, while Mother Harper sleeps.”

  Abby Harper smiled again. Her eyes seemed a little puffy, and her smile was slow and strained. “I’d like that. Pull up a chair and sit next to me.”

  Seth grabbed the chair on the other side of the room and sat next to her. Being so close to her, though, he was suddenly struck by the thought that maybe this wasn’t so good an idea. He tried to think of something clever to say, or sympathetic, or profound….anything but the silence. But every time he thought of something to say, it seemed to slip out of his head. So he folded his hands into his lap and looked at his shoes.

  “Do you think she’s dreaming, Seth?” Abby asked suddenly.

  Seth looked over to her. She seemed unaware of his discomfort; her eyes were fixed on her grandmother. The young man mentally cursed at himself. This isn’t about you, he reminded himself. Quit acting like it is. “If she is, it doesn’t seem to be a bad dream,” he replied. “She seems so peaceful. She must be dreaming of a happy place, a happy time.”

  Abby looked down. “I hope so,” she said quietly, her breath catching. Seth was suddenly glad he hadn’t said anything earlier; any words of his would be woefully inadequate. It was several minutes before she spoke again. “Thank you for helping us stand vigil, Seth. You’re a good friend to my brother.”

  I’m not here for your brother. The thought came to him unbidden. He shook his head; he had come here for all of the Harpers, especially Mother Harper. At least, he hoped he had. Abby must have interpreted his head shake differently, though; she took his hand in hers. For a moment, Seth’s heart seemed to stop beating. “Yes, you ARE a good friend, Seth. I’d like to think of you as a friend, too. Is that alright?”


  “It’s…yeah, it’s rud, Abby. You can think of me as anything you want. I like you a lot. You’re…” Seth trailed off. Oh, Mother, why did I say I liked her? Seth started casting around desperately for something to complete the sentence other than what he was going to originally say.

  As it turned out, he didn’t have to. Abby gave his hand a squeeze and put her head on his shoulder. Cautiously, he leaned his head to rest on hers. Surely Lord Jezias wouldn’t mind if he comforted a friend in her grief. He wasn’t profaning the vigil. And if he lost himself in the smell of her hair… well, hopefully the Lord of Death wouldn’t notice.

  Chapter 4

  Jake grunted as he swung the axe. Thankfully, the wood was dry; it had been kept inside with the hay. One thing every Aspenite knew; you had to have wood on hand that would burn. It was easy to freeze to death in the high mountains. It was said that the piggies had been able to heat their homes without wood, using some kind of gas. It was one of the few stories Jake believed. It was ridiculous how poorly equipped many of the old houses had been for winter. The houses on Heather had all had fireplaces installed long ago. But Jake had been inside the houses of the Ruins, and could see the way that the people had lived. Most of them had a fireplace in the great room, sure, but what about the other parts of the house? And some of those fireplaces hadn’t even had suitable chimneys, but instead were filled with fake wood and a metal bar with holes poked into it. Jake had no idea what the piggies did with such a thing, but he figured it had to be purely ornamental.

  To Jake, fire was no ornament. It was life, and it was death. With so many people sharing sleeping quarters, one nasty fire could displace a good portion of the town. That had never happened in Aspen Vale, but it was a constant danger. If something like that did happen, the only place for them to go would be to either go to a different building, all of which were very full at the moment, or find a place in the Ruins that wasn’t too run down.