by Carey Lewis
“We also found a fault to your antennae. It’s picking up the frequency of the radio station nearby.” Deacon hit a button on the laptop. “This is the sound you hear,” Brooke said as Deacon hit another button. “We isolated the sound you were hearing through the TV and got this.” Deacon hit another button and the sound of the TV dropped out. They heard the call sign for a country music station, WCBY FM 98.
He watched the two of them gasp, like the air was sucked out of their lungs. Then the smiles came. Then the laughter as the stress left.
“So our house isn’t haunted?” Mrs. Miller asked.
“No, Mrs. Miller,” Brooke said. “Just old. A few repairs, you’ll think you were crazy to ever think that.”
Deacon looked over at Rodney, shaking his head. A missed opportunity.
CESAR WATCHED THEM COME OUT of the house. The blond family had tears in their eyes, kept hugging each other and the TV people.
“Can’t tell if that’s good or bad,” Huey said, both of them leaning on the fender again. Behind the Town Car was the short black woman with puffy hair, on the phone sitting in the passenger seat with the door open, her stocky legs hanging out. Behind her was Jeff and the Buick, standing there with his arms crossed glaring at Martina.
“You ask him he wants to go party?” Cesar asked.
“Said he’d have a drink or two.”
They watched the muscular guy coming off the porch, the camera hoisted on his shoulder, looking up at the sun. Guy was always looking at the sun, like he expected it to do tricks. Saw the other people in the crew coming out, walking around the hosts and the family. Deacon called over the sun gazer, started explaining something to him. Cesar guessed he wanted a shot of the family coming out of the house, seeing a brand new day.
“Don’t think the house is haunted,” Cesar said to Huey.
“No?”
“They look too happy.”
“Good for them,” Huey said.
Yes. Good for them.
“You going to ask to rent the bunker?”
Cesar didn’t answer. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He asks to rent the bunker, they say no, he’d have to leave the house alone. If the house was haunted, they’d probably move. Might be on the market for a year or two, farms didn’t go fast around here. The ones wanted a farm already had one.
He watched Deacon clear everyone off the porch. The family went back inside. He got behind the camera and yelled Okay. The family came out, smiling. The man took his woman around the waist, bringing her and the kid she was holding into his chest. Staring up at the sky and smiling like assholes. The other kids hugging their parents, looking up at them and smiling. Family of assholes.
Now they were coming off the porch, Deacon headed this way, talking to Dominic. Turning back to the house, Deacon talking with his hands, Dominic pointing to catch up. Calling to the family, seeing if the kids wanted to play in front of the house. Deacon gave them the thumbs up and came over.
“So is it haunted?” Huey asked.
“Nah, just old. Needs some repairs,” Deacon said.
“Repairs?” Cesar asked.
“It’s an old house, they do weird things. Can make you think it’s haunted. We’ve had a few of them.”
“How many repairs it need?”
“Good amount. It’s old. You guys okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Huey said.
“We’re just going to do the wrap-up then we can head out. That cool?” The TV guy asking permission.
“Whatever you need,” Huey said.
Deacon walked over to the Lincoln MKC, started talking to Martina. Cesar watched. He looked to the house and saw Brooke standing in the yard, having a smoke and staring at him. Cesar smiled at her and she turned away.
There was more talking. Deacon and the muscular guy pointing at things, Brooke coming over to get involved. Talked to the parents, the mom going in, the dad guiding the kids further along to get in the shot they had in mind. The mom came out with some toys, put them in the grass where Dominic told her to.
That’s when Rodney came over, said, “It’s a fucking shame.”
Cesar looked behind him, to the other side of the Town Car, saw Rodney taking a swig from a flask. He said, “I could’ve haunted the shit out of this house.”
“What do you mean?” Cesar asked.
“The house ain’t worth being haunted,” Rodney said, taking another swig. “It’s a great house.”
“Rodney, what the fuck you doing?” Martina yelled at him.
“Clinging to existence and trying to find a purpose, what you expect me to be doing?”
“Get your fat ass over here and show me where you got the rest of that stashed.”
“Fucking shame,” Rodney said as he walked away. “Could’ve been a great house.”
Cesar looked over to Huey who shrugged the encounter off, more interested in the filming. Cesar watched Rodney go over to Martina, covering the phone as she talked to him. Then she took the flask and took a gulp before handing it back.
Cesar looked at the house, watching them set the scene. Deacon asked Dominic if he was ready, him saying he was rolling. The kids played behind the hosts as they talked to the camera, gesturing to the house then walking forward.
He started looking at the house in a new way. Thinking of what Rodney said, the house he could’ve haunted. The house not worth being haunted. Could’ve been a great house.
Someone yelled it was a wrap and there was lighthearted clapping. The TV people talking amongst themselves, shaking hands with the family, saying their goodbyes.
Then Deacon came over. “You guys ready for that drink?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
PATTY’S ROADHOUSE HAD A DIFFERENT crowd, a different vibe, once the sun went down. Music and people inside could be heard from the parking lot. The mix of southern rock or country music with voices trying to be heard. The gravel lot full of cars and trucks, blue collar workers and kids, tourists passing by, getting their load on. There was a sign out front by the road there, lit up, Patty changing the saying every week or so. This week it said ‘Roadhouse or Road head? All the same at Patty’s’
Huey didn’t get the connection, standing in the parking lot, smoking a joint before going inside, Cesar giving Deacon his own joint all to himself. Huey was thinking maybe Patty needed help with the sign, started thinking of things he could come up with. ‘Roadhouse or Load House? Drinks two for one for the ladies,’ he thought.
“You sure you don’t want any of this?” Deacon asked, holding the joint up.
“That one I made special for you,” Cesar said. “Lighter strain from what we’re used to.”
“Don’t think I can handle it?”
“We see how you do with that one.”
Huey didn’t know Cesar had lighter strains. He knew he had different ones, everything Cesar grew was good, but he didn’t know any of them were lighter than another.
They finished the dope and started to the entrance, passed a guy pissing on a Ford. Cesar said, “Hope you don’t mind, got a friend coming to meet us.” Huey felt his good time slipping away.
Cesar led them inside, nodding to the bouncer, seeing all the girls in short jean shorts and tank-tops, the music blasting them in the face. The place was packed and rowdy, had a mechanical bull off to the side of the dance floor, the guys cheering the girls on. One of the things Patty put in that was different from the movie.
They grabbed a table in the middle, a cute blond wearing a cowboy hat and a red tank-top took their order before Deacon asked if there was a band playing, looking at the instruments on stage.
“You want to give it a go?” Cesar asked. Deacon laughed it off. “Where’s the next haunted house?” Cesar asked, taking more of a shine to the TV host than before.
“Don’t know. We’re on a break for a week, maybe a week and a half. Marty’s trying to figure it out.”
“That’s the short one right? I like that one.”
“She get
s shit done.”
The waitress came over, put three pint glasses on the table and the pitcher. Cesar told her they’d need another glass and pitcher, had a friend coming. She nodded and disappeared into the crowd.
“What you doing then?” Cesar asked, pouring the beer into their glasses.
“Not sure. Brooke’s going down to Myrtle Beach.”
“You joining her?”
“Wants some alone time. I booked Ma Bell’s for another night. Told Marty to say maybe I’m spending another.”
“You not going to the beach with the old lady?”
“Wants to get away from the show.”
“She’s a host too.”
“It’s what I told her.”
“We do business down there. Selling to all those kids wanting to party.”
“You do any good?”
Cesar smiled at that. Said, “What you think?”
Deacon picked up his glass and they clinked them together. Huey caught Cesar’s eye, something not right in it.
“You know we shooting a movie too?” Cesar said.
News to Huey.
“Oh yeah? What’s it about?” Deacon asked.
“They say do what you know right? We know weed. How you feeling right now?”
That’s when Huey saw Deacon’s eyes for the first time. Saw the distant look to them.
“Think I could go for the big boy stuff you think I’m not ready for.”
That brought a smile to Cesar’s face. He patted him on the shoulder, told him, “In a bit man, we just got here. There’s my friend.”
Huey watched Cesar stand up, wave over the crowd, getting Hector’s attention. Deacon stood up, waiting to be introduced. He watched Cesar take a few steps forward, put his mouth to Hector’s ear and whispered something. Brought him over to the table and made the introductions. They sat down again, Huey feeling weird watching people stand for Hector. Saw the look on Hector’s face now, not liking it one bit. Like he wasn’t here to have a good time.
The waitress was back, smiling at Hector as she put the glass in front of him, dropped the new pitcher on the table quickly when she heard Neil Diamond come on the stereo, screaming as she ran away. The entire place was singing along to ‘Sweet Caroline.’
“Would you look at that?” Cesar said, bringing the table’s attention to the stage. All the waitresses were up there, singing along to Neil Diamond, bringing people up with them from the crowd. Huey turned back to see Cesar dump a vial of clear liquid into Deacon’s glass. Cesar gave him a stone stare.
“This place is great,” Deacon said, turning back to them.
“Why we come here,” Cesar said, big smile on his face. He turned to Huey and the smile dropped. Huey looked into his lap.
“You tell him about the movie?” Hector asked.
“Man, he ain’t even have his first beer yet. City slicker trying to run with us. Got to get the man feeling good before we bore him.”
Deacon smiled, took a big gulp of his beer, said, “Tell me about your movie. Weed right?”
“You finish your beer, we’ll take a break, let you have some of the big boy stuff you understand what we’re talking about.”
Deacon finished off his beer, said, “Let’s do it.”
BACK IN THE PARKING LOT, Deacon with his own joint again. Huey figured Cesar laced them with something.
“So there’s these two crews selling drugs. The one wants to make himself better, get to the top. But the other, a skinhead gang, they don’t want them getting up. They want to keep them under, make sure they keep buying off them,” Cesar said.
“Drug business doesn’t sound too different than any other business,” Deacon said.
“Skinheads don’t realize these people they keeping down, they smart. They got dreams. See the future.”
“You guys are the ones trying to come up.”
“That we are. Skinheads go so far, they get one of ours popped. Scene we going to shoot, we get even with them. We rob them, show them we ain’t ones to fuck with.”
“Big gun battle? Two guys staring each other down?”
“Exactly.” Cesar was smiling. “See which ones got the bigger balls.”
“Sounds like a fun scene to do.”
“We was going to shoot it tonight but we had a man drop out. Everything set to go. Hey,” Cesar said, faking like an idea just came to him. “You want to shoot a movie?”
Deacon laughed. Huey looked at him, saw in his eyes he was gone. Saw him swaying back and forth.
“We give you a mask, no one knows it’s you.”
“You can’t credit me. Union finds out.”
“Man, no one finds out. We just need the body. You wave the gun around, shoot at a couple people, have a blast. Blanks in the gun, the skinheads wearing those blood things that explode.”
“Squibs.”
“Yeah, the squibs. Got those on already. You just pretend you John Wayne killing some Indians. That sound like fun or what?”
They climbed into the Town Car, Huey driving, pulling out from Patty’s. Cesar turned his head to the backseat, saying, “We doing that cheap hand-held stuff make it look real. Not going to be any cuts or anything like that. One go. You do a movie like this before?”
“Auditioned for some years ago.”
“Man, this the kind of thing they make the movies for. How you feeling?”
Huey looked in the rear-view, saw Deacon look up and smile. “You grow good weed Cesar.” The man was gone. Huey looked over to Cesar, saw the giant smile form on his face, the gold tooth sitting there off to the side.
“Give my man his piece Hector.”
THE TOWN CAR PULLED ALONGSIDE the shoulder of the road in front of the one story house, the faded white of the siding taking on a beige color. The house was in a lot that looked like the trees were cut around it, nestled in there like it was in a pocket. It was in the trees behind the house where Motley grew his weed. Had an opening back there allowed the sun to get in on the plants.
“They know we’re coming?” Cesar asked Hector.
“They’re expecting us.”
Cesar looked at Deacon. “Now you’re the new guy we just brought on our crew. This supposed to be a peaceful drop but we have tension there. The audience knows we’re going to be meeting up later, resolve our differences. But you’re the new guy and we don’t know what to make of you. You all twitchy and shit, start blasting away before we know what’s going on. But we got to get in the house first, know what we’re looking at before all that happens, understand?”
“The guy couldn’t make it tonight, he’s got scenes to shoot later on?”
“Yeah. Later on, we take him out for what you do in there tonight. Why you wearing a mask works out. You got it?”
Huey turned in his seat to look at Deacon, saw the smile on his face, getting to play gangster. “Yeah, got it.”
“Remember this is all natural. We got camera’s set up. I’m wearing one of them Go-Pros, body-cams like the cops wear. So’s Hector. We doing this in one shot, make it real as can be.”
“I got it. I know what I’m doing Cesar.”
Cesar smiled. Hector too. Both barely holding in laughter. He turned Huey now, saw Huey wasn’t having as much fun.
“Maybe I should stay with the car,” Huey said.
“You’re going to want some of this money, you better get your ass in that house and earn it.”
They got out of the car, walked up the dirt path leading to the door, patches of grass showing there used to be some on the property. Cesar and Hector led the way, Deacon behind them, Huey following. Cesar knocked on the door and it shook. Huey noticed the sign by the door telling him trespassers will be shot.
The door opened to Motley, a guy covered with muscles and tattoos. White tank top and shaved head, tattoos where his hair should be. Speed metal blasted from the stereo inside.
Motley looked at him, smiled at Cesar, condescending. Said, “Heard your Essay got picked up,” grinning to show the sil
ver lining his teeth.
“Don’t think you know anything about how huh?”
“Heard they got him near Dillon,” Motley said, pretty much telling Cesar it was him.
“You got our shit?”
Motley’s smile grew wider, he backed away from the door, letting them in. Brought them to a room to the left, had a couch stacked on top of another couch. “Stadium seating in this bitch,” he said, explaining it. There was a guy on the top couch, another two on the bottom, both wearing white tank-tops and camouflage pants. The room was full of smoke.
“Get See-Sar his shit,” Motley said. Huey watched the guy get up, the whites of his eyes tattooed black, leave the room through the rear. Huey looked down the hall to where the kitchen was, watched the guy go through it and down some stairs.
“I know you from somewhere,” Motley said, looking at Deacon.
“You don’t know me.”
“He’s the one does those ghost shows. The haunted houses,” the one on the top couch said, matter of fact, not giving a shit one way or the other.
“Oh shit,” Motley said, his jaw dropped. “You the one with the hot wife.”
“You can’t use that,” Deacon whispered to Cesar.
“What’s that?” Motley asked.
“I said you don’t know me fool.”
Motley started laughing, not sure what to make of it.
“Now you’re laughing at me?” Deacon was getting into character.
“Shit, you TV people are crazy.”
Huey looked at Deacon, saw him staring at Motley, clenching his jaw. Saw his hand start to go behind him, toward the gun in his belt.
“He’s going against script,” Deacon said. “Can you ADR the dialog?”
“ADR? What the fuck?” Motley looked at Cesar. “You wearing a fucking wire?”
“There we go,” Deacon said. “You take something don’t belong to you. Cops are staying out of this.”
Huey watched Motley try to figure out what was going on. He saw the guys on the couch, looking over at them now, the one on the bottom slowly putting down the Xbox controller. The one on top sliding his hand between the cushions.
