Purgatory Road

by Samuel Parker

  As he crested the ridge, he saw in the starlight a dry creek bed running off into the distance a hundred feet below him. He gazed with wanting eyes at the former home of a running river. His mouth yearned for just a taste of liquid, anything to beat the heat he was feeling.

  He started the descent into the valley, recalling the hunting expedition with Boots. Yes, he would have even welcomed the old man into his company right now. The loneliness of this adventure, and the uncertainty of how it would turn out, made Jack long for a guide. Someone to lead him home. Anyone.

  His thoughts jolted when his foot slid out from beneath him. The rocks below broke away and he clawed at the ridge wall. Kicking and scratching, Jack fought against the mini rock slide, trying to get a foothold but found none. He slid, and tumbled down.

  Rolling, he could feel rocks hitting every part of his body. His back, his face, his back again. Jack slammed into the valley floor and laid spread out, his face in the dirt. It felt as if he had been beaten with a pillowcase filled with bars of soap. He tried to lift his head but couldn’t, the fatigue and the beating had taken all his energy. He simply closed his eyes and passed out.

  51

  Molly got up in the middle of the night to grab some water. She filled a glass from the hand pump, took a sip, and turned around. Boots sat across the dark room staring at her. He seemed to look right through her. She felt exposed, examined. Like she had when the old man had found her in the cave. His stare made her feel uneasy.

  “Dark night,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you sit a bit, keep me company.”

  She thought he could sense her apprehension, but he motioned to her to sit on the couch across from him, and she crossed the room with short, deliberate steps. She settled down, doing her best to occupy as little space as possible. Boots just stared at her from his chair, his eyes penetrating her skin. She felt as if she was being weighed and measured, her heart judged right before her.

  “You know, I thought you’d be the one to go running off in the night.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you.”

  “Well . . .” She paused. “I think we both know where that got me.”

  Boots smiled. “Yeah. But still, you got that fire burning in you. That wanderlust. Every day you stay here, safe, I can’t but think you’ll forget the mess you were in a little bit more and more, begin thinking that now you’re smarter. Won’t get duped again. Head right back out there toward the west.”

  Molly swallowed hard. He was right. When she was rescued from the cave, she wanted nothing more than to run back to her mother’s arms. Now slightly removed from immediate danger, her thoughts started drifting again to the excitement of LA and all the dreams she thought it held. She was as those on a ship who pray to the heavens when a hurricane hits, but then pull out the jet skis when the waters calm.

  “Maybe I’ll just stay here.”

  “Naw, this ain’t no squatter’s camp. Just a place to stop, sort things out, then move on.”

  “Works for you though.”

  Boots sighed. “Yeah, works for me.”

  She took another sip from the glass. “So you think I should go back home?”

  “Doesn’t really matter what I think, now, does it?”

  Molly thought about the question.

  “I can’t make you go back. I can take you only so far. Columbus is much too far to walk.” He chuckled. “You have to decide to go back.”

  “Is this the point where you tell me that when I’m older, I’ll understand?”

  “Naw, I ain’t going to lay that on you.”

  “Good. I get tired of that.”

  “I can imagine.”

  She relaxed some more on the couch. Her nervousness releasing as she realized that Boots wasn’t going to pull the “Grandpa” talk on her. She drank some more water and cleared her throat. “I’m afraid to go back.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Bad stuff happen there?”

  “No, it’s just . . .”

  “What?”

  “Admitting to myself that I was wrong. That I’m not strong, that I’m not who I thought I was.”

  “There are worse things to realize in this life.”

  “I don’t know if I can cope with it. It’s embarrassing, the thought of going back.”

  “Ain’t nothing to feel bad about, Molly. Worse will be waking up one day, years from now, wishing you had gone back. Bad thing about mistakes: you keep making more by not fixing the first ones.”

  “I didn’t think it was a mistake . . . until I hit Vegas.”

  “I’m sure you thought it was wrong the whole way, deep down. You just kept pushing it down till it all got out of control.”

  She exhaled slowly, exorcising the thought from deep within her. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

  They stared at each other across the dark spaces.

  “I have never been as scared as I was in that cave, Boots.”

  “I can imagine.”

  She stared at her hands, which had begun healing back to their teenage smoothness. They shook every time she thought of Colten. Boots walked over and sat next to her, taking her hands into his. His old, calloused palms encapsulating hers.

  “There is evil in this world, Molly. You’ve seen it now. You stared into its eyes. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of. It changes the way you see the world.” Boots seemed to drift in thought as he said the words. “Going home ain’t mean you’re broken, ain’t mean you’re not who you thought you were. It just means the world ain’t like you thought it was.”

  Molly looked at the old man with tears in her eyes.

  “But you’re just as strong as when you left home. Stronger now. Wiser. Place to use that ain’t found out west. Naw, way to be strong is to go back home. That will prove how strong you are.”

  He gave her hands a gentle squeeze, and then wiped the tear that rolled down her cheek. He stood and walked slowly out the front door into the night.

  Molly remained on the couch as Boots’s words floated through her soul.

  52

  The next morning Boots led the mare out of the stable and brought her around to the front of the cabin. It was early, the sun just starting to shine over the east. Laura walked out onto the porch clumsily, as she had not been able to sleep all night.

  Boots climbed up onto the saddle and looked down at the tired woman before him. “You should get in and get some rest. I’ll be gone awhile. Time to go get Jack.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “Naw . . . the horse can’t pull us all, and I’m thinking Jack won’t be up for walking once I find him.”

  “Are you sure you can find him, Boots?” Laura clasped her arms around her waist. She had cried herself dry. “Are you sure he is going to be okay?”

  Boots didn’t say anything as he led the horse away from the cabin.

  Laura watched him disappear into the east. She stood there waiting as if the old man would turn and give her an answer.

  53

  Jack could see the shimmering forms through his eyelids. The dancing shades of horror, twisting and turning over the hot sands and rock, like magic water over the dry creek bed. The heat was unbearable, and he thought of only water. A few hours earlier he had attempted to climb down the shallow ravine in hopes that the river bed might hold some moisture. Now he was here, exhausted and battered to the point of immobility, waiting for death. And death seemed to be unfolding in the distance like a cabaret dancer enthralled in a sensual dirge.

  He could see them more clearly now, the shapes of shadows peeking back at him. They grew in number each minute, straining their necks at the human wreckage before them, jostling each other for a better view.

  The whispering breeze.

  The canyon walls began crawling with shades. The rock bands of tans and reds slowly morphing into darker hues of black as the crowd flowed into this sandstone theater. Ja
ck could feel his heart quicken but could not move. He could feel the swirling commotion around him, gathering, intensifying, but was unable to respond. The shadows grew more agitated as they began to fight with each other.

  Jack strained to push himself up but only managed to make it to his elbows. The shadows paused in their swirling to watch him. He gave a small grunt as he reached out with his right hand, grabbed some earth, and pulled himself forward a few inches. It took every ounce of energy he had in him. The sun had done its work . . . he was completely exhausted.

  Wincing in pain, he threw his left hand out and tried to pull himself a bit more but could not. His body slumped and his consciousness hung by a thread. In a whirlwind of a thousand voices, the shadows’ laughs rushed down the canyon walls like water over a dam.

  Then stillness. Nothingness.

  “Hey, Jack.”

  A cool air drifted over his body while stale air filled his nose, suffocating.

  “You’re in a bit of a pinch, aren’t you? Miles away from nowhere.”

  Jack lay without movement. He was too tired and too scared to move, as if playing dead would keep the bear from devouring him. He could feel a presence kneeling next to him. Then he was being shoved, rolled onto his side. His eyes fluttered open.

  The man from the cabin. The midnight visitor.

  “Don’t feel like talking much, huh? That’s okay by me. You don’t seem like the kind of guy that had anything of substance to share anyway.” The man stood and stretched his back. “What are you doing out here?”

  “J-j-just . . . want to g-get home.”

  “Naw, you don’t want that.” Seth’s face twisted into a sneer. “That’s what y’all say. I want to go home. You’re out here for a reason. You just haven’t figured it out yet.”

  Jack forced his eyelids to stay open a sliver, just enough to see him. Seth was visibly becoming bored with the conversation as he walked a couple steps and sat down on a rock.

  “I’ve been out here a long time, Jack. I’ve seen plenty of people just like you. What? You think you’re unique. Huh? Yeah, I guess you all do. You ain’t nothing, Jack. Nothing. You all come running from something, something bigger than you, and then you come out here and think you are bigger than you are. Yeah, that must be it. You think you’re something bigger than you are.

  “Probably think the world spins around you, don’t you, Jack? Think you’re at the center of everybody’s mind. When you going to get it, Jack? You ain’t nothing. Ain’t even worth me coming out here messing with you. Almost a waste of my time.”

  Jack closed his eyes and gripped the ground.

  Scared.

  Anticipating something but not knowing what.

  Intimidated. He knew the man could take a rock and smash his head, and he had not the strength or courage to even lift his hands to ward off the blow. He was five years old, hiding under the blanket from the boogeyman.

  Fear is the acute sensation of hope leaving the body.

  “There was a guy much like you awhile back. Came out here mountain climbing, though the fool knew nothing about no climbing. Arrogant. You know what that fool done? Fell and broke his back. Stuck up there in the rock and nobody knew he was there. Just sat there for days blinking up at the sky, spitting his own blood out of his mouth. How do you think he felt then, Jack? Probably pretty small, huh?

  “Yeah, ain’t had much fun when we found him though. Ain’t much fun when they got no hope left, when they beg you to end it all right quick. Can’t find no joy in that.” The man drifted off into a sick remembrance, then jumped back with a laugh.

  “Hey, Jack, what you think went through his mind when that rope snapped? I’ll tell you what probably happened. Fool got stuck up in a tight spot. Dangled there for a while. Too scared to go up higher, more than likely . . . didn’t know enough how to get back down. Probably got hungry, night coming on. Bats start flying around his head. Maybe hitting his legs. Wind pick up and get up under his skin. He lost hope real quick, more than likely. Thought he could cut that rope and end it real fast. Probably reached down into his boot, grabbed the knife that was on him, put it up over his head, and cut that line.”

  Seth’s gaze drifted off as if he was seeing the memory play out before him on a distant screen. He soon snapped back to the present and looked down at Jack. “Problem is, fool wasn’t high enough to kill himself. Only broke his back. Came near to folding in half. Yeah, can’t have too much fun when that is all you’re given.”

  The hot sand filled Jack’s nostrils as he remained motionless on the ground. He thought if he kept his eyes shut, the man would leave, disappear, stop existing.

  “So what say you, Jack? You just going to lie there and play dead or are you going to give us something to work with?”

  “I haven’t done anything to you,” Jack whispered, but the sound was further muted by the rock his face was half buried in.

  “What’s that?”

  “I haven’t done anything to you.”

  “Haven’t done anything to me? Come on, Jack, didn’t I say this ain’t about you? Get that through your mind . . . this ain’t about you! You’re nothing.”

  “I’m not going to fight you.”

  “You have to have a little bit of spine in you. Something inside that thinks you might get out of this. Something that you’re clinging to.”

  Silence. The man spit and the dry earth hissed.

  “Pathetic. You really got nothing, huh. What about that sweet thing you drove in here with. I bet she’d put up a good fight . . . unless of course she pegged her hopes on you. If she did, she’d probably beg me to end it right quick too.”

  Laura. Jack’s thoughts returned to her, mixed with the horror story relayed to them by Molly. Was this the man who kidnapped her? Had kept her hidden away and came within minutes of strangling her? Jack’s rage began to build as he thought about Laura in that situation. He could feel blood flowing through his limbs, his adrenaline began pumping.

  “Ahhh . . . so she does mean something to you,” the man said as he stood up and looked around. “So where is she, huh? Did she fall down this canyon wall too?”

  He walked around, peeking behind the rock he was just sitting on.

  “No . . . she’s not here is she? You left her. You left her behind.”

  Realization dawned on the man.

  “She’s back at Boots’s place, ain’t she? Wow, Jack, that’s something. I can’t say I’ve seen that happen before.”

  Jack could feel something move, subtle, as if an invisible hand began pushing the watching shades back up the ridge and sweeping them away. He looked up at the man, whose gaze was fixed on the western sky.

  “Got to be moving on, Jack. You’re not worth my time. But thanks for the news about your woman.” He bent down and patted Jack on the head like he would a dog. “Yeah, I think that might be the best news I heard in awhile.”

  Jack could hear the man’s footsteps wander off as he was left alone on the valley floor.

  54

  “Get up, you got work to do!” Seth shouted as he walked into the cave, appearing as if out of thin air.

  Colten got to his feet and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his nicotine-stained fingers. It was dark except for a sliver of light from the roof crack. It was easy to lose a sense of time in here, one of the perks he found when he had first discovered it. Unfortunately he had not planned on having the effect work him over.

  “What time is it?”

  “Doesn’t matter, I got a surprise for you.”

  “You found the girl?” Colten blurted, almost dropping the lighter as he prepared to get his morning fix.

  “No, but I think I found something that will make a good replacement.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a place not too far from here. There’s a woman there, abandoned. Left alone.”

  “Out here?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’d you know this?”

  The man walke
d out of the cave and Colten quickly followed. “How’d you know this!”

  “Just take it and use it. You don’t have much time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The man spun on his heels and stared at Colten. His black eyes breaking the will of the homicidal maniac. Colten’s legs felt weak, like he did when he was ten and his old man would start whipping him.

  “Do you need an explanation for everything?”

  “No.”

  “All right. It’s enough to know that the old man who owns the cabin is off on a pointless errand. The woman is there. All you need to do is drive down there and pick her up. You can do that now, can’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  The man started walking away again toward the two-lane down the mountain.

  “But what about the girl? Are we going to find the girl?”

  “Consider her lost. You had your chance, you blew it.”

  Colten stood motionless, a worker given a list of instructions but not knowing how to turn the machine on. “So how do I find the place?”

  “Just start driving,” the man replied as he disappeared from view. “You’ll find it soon enough.”

  55

  “Where you think you’re going, Jack?”

  Jack struggled to open his eyes. A combination of thirst, exhaustion, and blinding sunlight made this almost impossible. It took him awhile to get his bearings. It must be midday, and he was lying on his stomach eating dust, staring at a pair of old cowboy boots.

  “That was pretty stupid there, Jack, coming out here all by yourself,” Boots said as he squatted on his haunches, pouring a small stream of water from his canteen over Jack’s cracked face.

  Jack worked to lift his head off the ground enough to capture some of the water in his cheek.