Hellbender (Murder Ballads and Whiskey Book 2)

by Miller, Jason Jack

  “Oh, yeah? What’d you do to deserve such harsh punishment?”

  Realizing it was a joke, she smiled, but quickly looked away. “A lot of things, I guess.”

  I slowed as we came through the village of Thomas. Old company stores hemmed us in on one side, the Blackwater River on the other. The Miners and Merchants Bank was the only non-tourism-related business left on the whole street. Exiting town took us up still higher, through white pines and past the ball field where I played Little League. A pair of doe ate at the clover in left field. Canaan Mountain loomed high in the background; the spruce trees along the top were visible even from here. We passed the entrance to Blackwater Falls State Park and a chill fell upon us. It was so cold Alex dug for my fleece in the back of the Jeep.

  “Hungry?” I asked. But her reply didn’t matter. I was starving, and drifted to a stop in front of Sirianni’s. Almost like I’d followed the smell of garlic right to the front door.

  The old pizza place was exactly like I’d left it. Cherubs stared from the thin screen door—the angels of Parmesan, patron saints of pizza, floating in hand- painted clouds and swirls, implying this food was heavenly nourishment. Tonight the windows were cracked open to the insectless May evening, a reminder that up here frost was still a possibility. Old bluegrass played on the jukebox. The smell of baking pizza crusts pulled us inside.

  The low light kept visibility at a minimum, but there wasn’t much to see. A hodge-podge of memorabilia crowded the wooden walls: old ski team photos, the wooden plank with a donkey saying ‘No le hace’ in bold blue letters. There were whiskey ads, ski race posters, flyers for live music at the bars and resorts. An old heavy curtain was pulled shut across the other part of the dining room.

  A girl came out of the kitchen, flipped her phone shut and grabbed two menus from the counter. “Two?” she asked without even looking.

  “What the hell, Chloe?” I said.

  My cousin shoved her phone into her back pocket and her face scrunched up a little. “Henry? Oh, my.” She dropped the menus on the counter and hugged me.

  “You guys know each other?” Alex said with a tone just shy of rejection.

  I led the way to the corner booth in the very back. “What? Don’t you remember her from the funeral? Katy’s sister. Rachael’s their mom.”

  Alex nodded. As we sat down she said, “Sorry.”

  Chloe was a few steps behind us with menus and silverware. “You know, everybody was mad you just left like that. Don’t even get Pap started. Him and Jamie were fixing to come looking for you, but Katy said you needed time to simmer. You heard about Katy, and Preston and all that, right? You missed a bunch of stuff. I mean, what would’ve happened if Gram got sick or something, or your dad needed you. He’s been in all kinds of trouble and everybody else has been bailing him out. And Ben really misses you. He just gets back from his deployment, then Jane…then you disappear.”

  “Yeah, I get it, Chloe, I do. I just couldn’t be here after the funeral. Everybody should understand.” I flipped open my menu even though I knew what we were having.

  “Does Mom even know you’re back?” She flipped open her cell phone like she’d find her answer faster there.

  “No. Nobody does yet. I’m trying to keep it low-key.” Just then I scanned the room, like maybe I should still be hiding. “And I’m not staying long. I’m bolting out of here tomorrow so you don’t need to tell Rachael.”

  Alex raised her eyebrow, like the comment hurt a bit.

  “Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen. Do you want something to drink, or what?” She gave me a little glare. Probably a sign that she wasn’t entirely committed to laying on the same kind of guilt trip that Katy would’ve. “Henry.” She put her palms flat on the table and leaned over. “Why did you leave? Pap was afraid you were going to end up just like Janie.”

  I looked at her and all of a sudden it was January again.

  “Pitcher of iced tea. Make it half lemonade.” I flipped the menu shut.

  “Wet iced tea. Okay.” She put the pen behind her ear. Her green Make pizza, not war t-shirt was way too small. Her pants were so tight you could almost make out the individual numbers on the buttons of her cell phone.

  As she walked behind the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room, I looked at Alex. She wouldn’t return my look so I didn’t say anything until Chloe came back. She plopped the pitcher on the table between us. “I suppose you want to eat?”

  “Spinach salad, tomato for egg, extra garlic dressing on the side.” My usual order. “Do you want a pizza, Alex?”

  She ignored me. Speaking directly to Chloe, she said, “Let’s try feta and roasted peppers, artichoke hearts on half, please.” Alex addressed her very politely. Maybe more delicately than politely.

  “I was thinking pepperoni and onion.” I dreamt about this pizza for three months. Duff didn’t believe you could get a good pizza this far south. We spent many a night arguing about it.

  Alex wouldn’t budge.

  “Make it two smalls then. We’ll have pizza for breakfast.” Problem solved.

  “Disgusting,” Chloe said before turning to Alex. “It was very nice to meet you. You’re too pretty for him.”

  Chloe left to put our order in. The jukebox went through a pair of Loretta Lynn songs and Alex knew every word and quietly sang along. Chloe returned with our salad and set the bowl on the table as she finished a text with her free hand. Her other customers glared when she pulled up a chair and chatted while we ate. She filled Alex in on how she was the Winterfest Princess in Elkins in February and how she was probably going to be Homecoming Queen, too, how her friends were jealous at first, but now they weren’t. Then she casually mentioned her scholarship from Davis and Elkins, but she didn’t know if she’d take it or not because our Uncle Jamie, Ben’s dad, taught there. Besides, she said, she wanted to live in Morgantown.

  When Chloe returned to the kitchen, Alex said, “I think somebody really missed you.”

  “No. She had a crush on Ben. Everybody did. I was the dopey sidekick. But we were always on the same team. Katy, Chloe and me versus Ben and Janie. Boy, girl, boy, girl, plus it separated us by age. My aunt came up with it.” I took a bite of spinach, really just a charade to get more of the creamy garlic dressing into my system. “Hide and seek. Stuff like that. We never had enough people for kickball or anything. Ben taught Janie how to cheat.”

  “Will I have a crush on Ben, too?” Alex tried to get back at me for my rudeness earlier.

  “Better not,” I half-demanded, distracted by nostalgia. “But he falls in love real easy. Look here.”

  I pointed to hundreds of initials scratched into the painted surface of the wooden table, now covered by Plexiglas. “There’s Jane and an old boyfriend. Steven. What an asshole. He started all the shit with Lucinda and Jane. He’s the reason they had a falling out. There’s me.”

  “HR loves HC?” Alex traced the initials with her fingertip.

  “Yeah, high school.”

  “Here’s another one. HC plus LT.”

  “Unpleasant,” I said before taking another bite. “But not me. Harry Clark plus Lucinda Tasso. We met Lucinda’s dad today with Charlie. She was Jane’s best friend all through school. She used to stay over and everything. Then she got a crush on Steven who really liked Jane and that was it. Janie and my dad did an awful lot for that girl. My dad even got Eddie Tasso extra shifts at the mine, like at Christmas and stuff. Lucinda used to come up on Fridays after a football game and stay until Monday morning because she hated her homelife so much.”

  The reminder of today’s events knocked the smile right off Alex’s face. She forced it for a second, but it didn’t take long for it to disappear altogether.

  “Sorry.” I tried to take her hand. “See if you can find me on this picture. Hey.”

  But she wasn’t falling for my cheap distraction tactics.

  “HC + SD.” She turned her attention back to the table.

  “Iron
ically, that one isn’t mine, either.” I lied.

  “To quote Chloe, ‘Whatever.’” She poured herself more tea, then said, “Now, what did you want me to see?”

  “I’m in this picture. Jane is, too.” I reached behind her and tapped the glass in a frame that hung behind her head.

  “Canaan Valley Ski Team. I see Jane in the bottom row. But I don’t see you.” She twisted her brow.

  “Look again.”

  “This kid here?” She feigned scrutiny.

  “Yeah, that’s me, and that’s Ben next to me.” I tapped the glass with the handle of my fork.

  “That is not a great picture. You can’t even see your faces.” Alex laughed, then returned to her salad.

  “Yeah, Ben kept poking fun at the photographer’s accent. She was Finnish or something. We kept singing ‘Norwegian Wood.’”

  Chloe snuck up on us and interrupted, “That’s not you.”

  “Is too. And besides, how would you know? You were like, five or something.”

  “Whatever. Here’s your food.” She pushed our salad bowls out of the way with all the grace of a drunken raccoon. “Is there anything else you need?”

  But before I could reply she said, “I called Mom and told her you guys were here. She was pissed you didn’t call anybody, but said it didn’t matter. Just don’t make any plans for tomorrow night.”

  “Don’t make plans? Is that an order?” I crossed my arms.

  Chloe cut my snicker short. With her hands on her hips she said, “Seriously, you have to ask? Yeah, everyone’s coming over. And she said since I’m eighteen, I can drink a little. So don’t screw it up by running off again or anything.”

  “Thanks for the warning. And the compassion.”

  “I’m serious. I’m bringing my boyfriend and if something happens I won’t be able to see him until next weekend.” She pulled her pad out of her back pocket and flipped to our order. “Alex, would you like anything else?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Alex smiled.

  With that Chloe softened a little and returned Alex’s smile. I asked, “Can I get some napkins?”

  She rolled her eyes, stuck her pen behind her ear then left us. As the jukebox changed CDs—Weezer, “Say It Ain’t So’—I could hear Chloe talking on her phone, “I told him he should’ve called… I told him… No, he’s with a girl… And you said that Scott could stay over… You promised… Okay… Okay… Love you, too… Bye-bye.”

  Chloe bounded back up to the booth and dropped off the check. “No family discount?” I pushed the check back toward her.

  “That’s it. I just added in what I thought you were going to tip me.” She pushed it back and set my cup on it.

  “A little generous, don’t you think?” I picked it off the table and pretended to check the prices.

  “I gave you the table you wanted, didn’t I? Even though it’s way out of my way.” She lowered her voice, then added, “And I lied when that girl over yonder asked if it was you she heard back here.”

  “What girl?” I tried to peek around her.

  “That Tasso girl. She’s paying now. With Darren Lewis.” “This is bad,” Alex said bluntly.

  Darren Lewis had his shirt buttoned up to the top button. Purple bruises stuck out above his collar. He had his hat pulled low, but in the mirror over the counter I could see his black eye. He looked worse than when he left the bar last night. Like Charlie beat him with his pistol or something.

  Auburn hair fell in a pair of braids down Lucinda’s back. When I saw her face reflected in the mirror behind the counter my blood boiled. Lucinda wasn’t just some girl. My family had treated her like one of our own. With all the charm of a November wind, she told Darren to go get the truck.

  “Hey,” I hollered across the room. “What’s the fucking deal—”

  She took a step toward us and mouthed a few words, mumbling syllables that meant nothing to me. I maintained eye contact. No part of me was ever going to back down from her again. When she spoke, her eyes fell shut, like she was in a trance. The room got hot. I started to sweat and the lights dimmed. I thought I was blacking out and grabbed for the edge of the table. Cicadas rushed through the open screen door and windows, buzzing and pulsing like speakers in a Walnut Street club back in Morgantown. When my head dipped, I caught a whiff of the rest of the food on the table. Acrid fumes that made me gag as the food blackened in accelerated decomposition.

  Lucinda broke her trance and glared. Those brown eyes burned with a hatred I never thought possible in a person. Before vanishing into the glow of streetlights, she said, “You’ll either sink or float. We’ll find out. You want a witch hunt? We’ll give you a witch hunt.”

  In my head I prepared an explanation for Alex, but wasn’t even sure what I saw, or if Alex even saw the same thing. When I looked at Alex, she was turning blue.

  “Alex!” I leapt to her side of the table. Her hands flew to her purple lips.

  I lifted her from her seat and clasped my fists below her sternum, preparing to squeeze breath back into her.

  “That won’t help.” Chloe ran to my side and broke my hold on Alex’s chest. “Sit down.”

  “Chloe! I know CPR—”

  “Sit down. If you want to do something, hold her hand.” Chloe ran to the cooler and grabbed a pint of blueberries. I held Alex’s hand, helpless to do anything else. Her face reddened, her eyes begged for relief, but I could only sit there. “Chloe!”

  “Yelling isn’t going to make me move any faster, you know.” She grabbed a pitcher of water on her way back to the table.

  “Call 911.”

  “Henry! Chill. I got this.” With a spoon she smashed the blueberries against the side of the glass until only a purple paste remained. The sickly sugary fragrance of sunlight-induced sweetness, of ice cream stands making blueberry shakes on hot July nights nearly knocked me back into my seat. From the pitcher Chloe poured water and continued to stir.

  “Just a second, kitten.” Chloe plucked a hair from Alex’s sweaty brow. “What are you doing?” I said.

  “Shhh.” She wrapped the hair around her middle finger and made three crosses over Alex’s lips. Inaudible words flowed from Chloe’s mouth to Alex’s ear. Chloe pulled a silver coin out of her pocket, dropped it into the cup and tipped the purple liquid toward Alex’s gasping mouth. “Put the coin in your mouth, but don’t swallow it.”

  With a gentle brush of her pinky, Chloe wiped a bit of the juice that dribbled down Alex’s chin.

  Chloe’s whispers became more frantic as Alex emptied the glass. Her breathing hadn’t returned, so Chloe poured a little more water into the glass, swirled it then gave it to Alex to finish.

  With a scream and a rush of tears, Alex’s exhalation flooded the room. She spit the coin back into the glass. One of the guys from the kitchen came around the counter and stared. Chloe let Alex rest her head on her shoulder and calmed her with a quiet lullaby. It didn’t take long for Alex’s tears to wet Chloe’s shirt.

  “What was it, food poisoning?” I said.

  “No, it wasn’t food poisoning. Hush up, Henry.” She handed Alex her tea.

  Alex finally calmed down and began to drink without help. She sat back in the booth, still trembling.

  “Was it allergies?” I said.

  “For crying out loud. Keep your voice down.” Chloe snatched a fresh linen from an adjacent table and wiped Alex’s brow. “There, there. You’re all right now.”

  “Did somebody call an ambulance?”

  Chloe shook the coin from the glass and wiped it on her jeans before slipping it back into her pocket. “Men are so stupid. She isn’t sick, Henry.”

  Alex’s hand fell onto the table and I grabbed it. She smiled faintly with my touch. “What’s wrong with her then?” I said.

  With a clank, Chloe threw the spoon into the glass and cleaned up the scraps of paper, empty sugar packets and straw wrappers that littered the table. She stood up, sighed dramatically, then whispered softly in my ear. “Wh
at’s wrong is Janie’s old BFF put a drowning spell on her.”

  Chloe began to leave, turned as if there was something else, then said, “Guess you all don’t need a box.”

  FOUR

  When I woke up to shut the window, I realized I hadn’t really been sleeping all that well to begin with. Maybe it was just being back in the house for the first time. Maybe I’d been dreaming old dreams. It didn’t help that my dad hadn’t cleaned a lick since I left in January. First thing I had to do was put away the chairs and planks Katy and Rachael used for the Sitting Up with Janie. Three days and nights taking turns staying awake so the body was never alone. So evil spirits couldn’t drag it down to hell, or whatever. Guess that was why I had to flip all the mirrors back around too.

  I wrapped a quilt around my shoulders and ventured onto the porch. Sunlight was just beginning to crack Cabin Mountain. A shivering Alex, drawn either by the draft or by my absence, joined me on the creaking porch swing. She wore my baseball cap and one of my old hoodies.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” I said. “Bad dreams.”

  “About what?” I lifted my arm, an invitation to climb beneath the quilt with me. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Golden light in her hair made her look immortal. I knew she was anything but.

  “Okay. But we’re safe here. Didn’t you see the SATOR squares beneath the window?” I tried to hide my sarcasm.

  “Yeah. What’s that about?”

  “Protection. Magic. Rachael must’ve put them up after I left this winter. They’re meant to keep the devil away.”

  She began to cry. I pulled her closer. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  I held her for some time. She finally said, “The air smells sweet. Makes it easier to breath.” She shuffled beneath the heavy quilt, a butterfly net for all the smells that drifted about my old home.

  “Smells are better than photo albums,” I said, grateful to the subject change. “Like when I’m up in the Sods and I smell spruce I remember all the Yule trees we dragged down the mountain. Anytime I smell maple syrup I think of mom and Janie making buckwheats. Wood smoke—whatever. Dried wildflowers make me think of when my mom was still around.”