99 Souls

by Thomas Malafarina

  His name was David Ferguson, and like most locals, he was a regular at Maggie’s. He owned a local carpentry and handy man type of business servicing the needs of the area residents. His business was not making him rich by any stretch of the imagination, but he was surviving quite comfortably. He was also a senior member of the Ashton town council. If the woman had known this fact, then she would have understood why the restaurant patrons all seemed to respect him.

  He sat at his booth alone tapping his fingers and occasionally nodding to others and exchanging a few pleasantries as they walked by. He briefly made eye contact with the attractive young woman and nodded a greeting to her. She nodded back, but was visibly uncomfortable with the outwardly friendly gesture. She resumed her conversation with her companion.

  “City people,” Ferguson thought disapprovingly to himself.

  After a few minutes, a young waitress approached Ferguson’s booth to take his order. The name 'Jeanie' was embroidered on her uniform. She had long brown hair and large round eyes, which seemed rather weary for such a young woman. She appeared older than her actual twenty-five years, indicative of what obviously had already been hard life.

  Sighing with fatigue and mustering as much cheer as the mood of the morning would permit, Jeanie said, “Morning, Mr. Ferguson.”

  “’Morning, Jeanie,” Ferguson replied, “And what a busy morning you are having today.”

  “You are right about that.” Jeanie said, “It is good to see you again. Come to think of it we sure have been seeing a lot of you in here these days.”

  “Yes, I seem to be in here quite often.” Ferguson continued, “After all, Maggie’s is one of the best places in town to eat. And, I seem to be taking very few meals at home these days. Especially… since … well, you know, since my Mary passed.”

  Jeanie suddenly realized just how foolish she had been to make such a comment. Of course, he would eat out more. His loving wife of thirty-five years was dead, having succumbed to cancer after a year of agony. How could she have been so stupid and insensitive?

  Looking embarrassed Jeanie offered, “I’m so sorry Mr. Ferguson. I knew that…. Darn… I always say the wrong thing…I didn’t mean anything… by that… you… you know we love having you here.”

  It had been over six months since his wife had passed away, and Ferguson had learned to be understanding of people and their lack of ability to properly express their sympathy.

  “Not to worry at all, Jeanie my dear”, Ferguson comforted, “I’m still adjusting to being alone is all. Since Mary has been gone, I tend to work a lot more, eat more meals out, and slowly try to get used to being in that big old empty house all by myself. I had no idea how large our little house would seem with it being just me there, but it surely seems much bigger than I want it to. It will take some time I am sure, and in the meantime, your wonderful conversation is always appreciated.”

  Jeanie looked relieved to be off the hook. Then Ferguson asked, “So tell me, Jeanie. How’s your little one?”

  “She’s fine,” Jeanie said proudly, “And she’s not much of a ‘little one’ any more. Mr. Ferguson. Mary Anne is ten already. Can you believe it?”

  Ferguson appeared surprised. “I can’t believe you have a ten-year-old already. You look so young, yourself Jeanie.”

  Jeanie again looked embarrassed, “Well as you may recall I did get off to a bit of an early start; at fifteen.”

  Ferguson suddenly looked as though he might want to melt into the booth, “Well, now I guess that was my turn to say the wrong thing.” He laughed, “Well, don’t give it another thought, Jeanie. Why, in my day you would have been considered an old maid at fifteen.”

  He chuckled again then attempted to change the subject. “So then, how is that husband of yours?”

  “Charley is doing okay, I suppose,” she replied, “Since he lost his job when Bidler’s steel mill closed down, things have been a bit tight money-wise. Maggie has been giving me extra hours to help make up the difference, but things are still a bit strapped. And he hasn’t been in the best of spirits either. He spends way too much time sitting around and watching TV and a few too many nights down at the Hosie drinking with his buddies.”

  Ferguson said, “Yes, things are tough all over, Jeanie. I had to let my assistant, Steve Dublinsky, go last week. It is getting tough to make ends meet these days.”

  Jeanie forced a smile and asked, “Well then, Mr. Ferguson, what can I bring you? The usual?”

  “Sure. That sounds like just the ticket; scrambled eggs, potatoes and sausage,” He requested, “And can I have cream in my coffee today, instead of black?”

  “Will do”, Jeanie said as she jotted down his order on her note pad. She turned to walk away but Ferguson stopped her to see what he could learn about the events of the night before.

  ”So… Jeanie. I assume by all the buzzing going on in here, you’ve no doubt heard about what happened to Walter McKinley’s young boy, Jimmy at Coogan’s mine last night?”

  The waitress looked at him somberly, “Yes sir, sorry to say I did. It’s all over town already. You can’t go anywhere without hearing something about it.”

  “I believe that, for sure,” Ferguson said, “It doesn’t take long for news to get around, especially the bad stuff.”

  “That’s sad but true.” She agreed.

  Then Ferguson recalled, “Say Jeanie. Jimmy McKinley would have been a year of so ahead of your Mary Anne in school wouldn’t he?”

  “Yes, I believe Jimmy was in sixth grade. He went to the school at the Seventeenth Street School building. Mary Anne is in fourth, and since we live down below Ninth Street; she went to the elementary school down at First Street. Only the ‘up town’ kids go to the Seventeenth Street School below the fifth grade.”

  “That sounds about right.” Ferguson contemplated, “So what have you been hearing? Any details? It seems like a very strange situation.”

  Jeanie leaned over a bit for privacy “Well, I have heard. … Some… things… from … different folks coming in here.”

  Just then, a woman walked past the booth. It was obvious by her demeanor, that she was someone who was charge. She was Maggie Maloney, the owner of the restaurant. She was in her fifties and was a no nonsense businesswoman who watched over her restaurant like a mother hen.

  She said to Jeanie in a strict voice, “Jeanie, we got a full boat here today. We can’t waste time talking. We got much too much to do.”

  Jeanie was obviously concerned about being caught talking instead of working and said, “No problem, Maggie. I’ll get right on it.” With that, Jeanie scurried away quickly with Ferguson’s order.

  Ferguson looked at the restaurant owner and decided it might be best to try and smooth things over for Jeanie. “Sorry Maggie. It was all my fault. I was responsible for holding up that sweet girl. She was simply being kind by humoring a lonely old fool.”

  Maggie was cut from tough old Irish cloth and knew a line of malarkey when she heard one. She replied, “Lonely I’m sure. Fool definitely. But, since you and I are pretty close to the same age, Davie, I must to correct you on the use of the word ‘old’. And either way, Jeanie does have other customers to tend to without giving her undivided attention to our illustrious councilman David Ferguson, himself.”

  Ferguson lowered his eyes in an expression of mock admonishment, “Oh dear. Consider me thoroughly scolded.” Then he gave her a sly wink.

  “I have no time for your school-boy silliness today, Davie. Now I must be on my way”. Maggie returned his wink, moved off to greet a few more customers and then headed back toward the kitchen.

  Ferguson watched Maggie leave, and may have been studying her backside a bit more intently than he should have been. As he broke his stare, his eyes again briefly met those of the woman’s in the booth. She gave him a brief stern look as if to say “I saw what you were looking at you old pervert” then turned away and resumed her conversation.

  “She looks familiar.” He thought to h
imself. “Probably one of those reporters from the cities, come up here to see what they can find out.”

  In the midst of his thoughts, Jeanie returned with his coffee and breakfast. “Here you go Mr. Ferguson. Coffee, two sugars. And this time, with cream.”

  Ferguson took the opportunity to apologize to the girl, “Thanks Jeanie. Hey, Look. I am terribly sorry if I got you in Dutch with Maggie. I tried to smooth things over for you the best that I could. After all, you know. I do have a certain charm over her, if I must say so myself.”

  “Not a problem Mr. Ferguson.” Jeanie replied, “We’re just a bit busy, is all.”

  Ferguson recalled something else about his waitress. “Say Jeanie. I was just thinking. Doesn’t your cousin, Freddie run ambulance with the Hose Company? He didn’t by any chance; get the call last night, did he?”

  At first, Jeanie seemed reluctant to answer. She looked around to see if Maggie was nearby. She noticed that Maggie had just gone back into the kitchen.

  “Yes. Actually, he was on duty last night,” she whispered conspiratorially, “and he did get the call.”

  Unknown to Jeanie, the attractive woman was sitting within earshot of Ferguson’s booth and was starting to pay some closer attention to their conversation.

  Ferguson was extremely curious now, “So… what’s the story, Jeanie. What did you hear about this?”

  “Well…” she said cautiously looking around again then sat down in the booth across from Ferguson, and then began, “I have to be quick about this. Maggie is only so forgiving. … It was bad, Mr. Ferguson. Freddie said it was the worst thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. And he’s been called out on suicides, car crashes and just about everything.”

  “Yes no doubt, Jeanie,” Ferguson answered “I’m sure he’s seen plenty. I heard the McKinley boy was mauled by some kind of animal and was all chewed up. His own Mother could hardly recognize him, is what I heard. Is that true?”

  “Something like that,” Jeanie continued, “but not exactly. Freddie said it’s hard to say for sure what happened. The cops are trying to sort it all out. Freddie said young Jimmy’s body was found draped across two other boys who were unconscious but for some reason but not been attacked. You know Johnny Carter and Tommy Marchinsky?”

  “Bob and Alice Carter’s boy, isn’t it!” he questioned.

  “Yes. Johnny Carter. He is in the same grade as my Mary Anne. He’s a really sweet boy. In fact, I think they have a little crush going on between them.”

  “Yes... And um … I don’t believe I know the other lad,” Ferguson questioned.

  Jeanie explained “The Marchinsky boy, Tommy. I believe his dad passed away a few years ago from a heart attack and his Mom works over at the O’Reilly’s Knitting Mill. He has a couple older brothers. Apparently from what Mary Anne says, he and Johnny are good friends.

  “Freddie said the cops suspect that there were probably some other boys there who might have witnessed the incident but ran away. For one thing, someone called the attack in anonymously.

  “And another thing is that Jimmy McKinley was almost never seen with Tommy and Johnny. Jimmy is... I mean … Jimmy was, always seen hanging around with Bill Coogan’s boy, Billy.”

  Ferguson now looked exceptionally annoyed, “Coogans! It would figure that a Coogan would have something to do with this. And I don’t just mean because it happened at the Coogan’s mine either. That young Billy Coogan is just as bad as all the previous Bill Coogans. Bad blood, I tell you. Not one of them is worth the room they take up.”

  “That may, be true Mr. Ferguson,” Jeanie conceded, “and few if any people would disagree with you. But they do own most of the county and pretty much run everything in town.”

  Ferguson replied in disgust, “Yes, that may indeed be true, Jeanie, but just remember one thing… trash is still trash. No matter how you try and fancy it up, you just can’t polish a turd.”

  Jeanie chuckled.

  Ferguson apologized, slightly embarrassed again, “Pardon my French, Jeanie. It is just that anything that involves the Coogans seems to end badly. So tell me again about the McKinley boy. What do they think happened?”

  Chapter 4

  In the booth directly behind Ferguson, an old man in his late seventies was listening inquisitively. He was unshaven with a three-day growth of white whiskers, and a bald head encircled with a ring of unkempt white hair. As he continued to eavesdrop on their conversation, he began to get visibly agitated.

  Jeanine continued, “Well at first glance, they figured that a group of boys were fooling around at the old mine. You know how sometimes boys do from time to time. No matter how many signs you put up there, the daring ones keep coming back for the thrill of it or something. Anyway, for some reason Jimmy must have gone inside the mine. They think it was most likely on a dare since most kids, or adults for that matter, stay as far away from there as possible.... not just because it is unsafe, but you know… because of the legend and all… that was when it must have happened.”

  Ferguson questioned, “The attack? Maybe it was a wild cat or a bear. What do they think?”

  “They don’t exactly know”, she continued, “Whatever it was, the sight terrified the two other boys so badly that they literally…. collapsed…. mentally as well as physically. And whatever-it-was must have had to have enough strength to drag Jimmy’s body back out and for some reason pile it on top of the unconscious boys.”

  “Unbelievable!” Ferguson said with astonishment. He thought for a moment then said, “ … You know, I read somewhere that if you come across a bear in the woods and play dead, the bear will assume you are dead and will leave you alone and not attack you. You know…. Maybe it was a bear and when the other boys fainted the bear thought they were dead and just piled the dead boy’s body on top of them. It sounds very strange to me, but I’m sure stranger things have happened with animals.”

  “Well, it wasn’t just like the other boys had just fainted either, Mr. Ferguson,” Jeanie continued, “Young Johnny Carter is over at the hospital in Mountain Springs right now in some kind of coma or mental collapse. He just lies there and doesn’t move or talk or anything. Freddie said that this kind of thing could happen after a severe shock.

  “The older boy, Tommy was in the same condition for a while, and is finally starting to come around, but he won’t talk to anyone or say anything. He seems scared out of his wits. His mother is keeping a close watch over him at the hospital and won’t let him talk to anyone but the police about it. I have heard from a friend who works at the hospital that somehow he seems to have blocked most of it completely from his mind.”

  “I can see how that could happen,” Ferguson replied understandingly, “It might be kind of like shell shock that many of my classmates faced coming back from the Korean war, huh? Especially after witnessing someone being torn apart like that and realizing that you would likely be next. Christ, I think I would shut down too.”

  Then Jeanie said cautiously once again looking around, “And… well….”

  “What is it, Jeanie? What else?”

  The old man in the booth behind Ferguson continued to eaves drop, becoming more anxious all the time; his legs twitching in anticipation; his fingers tapping the tabletop causing circular ripples to radiate in his coffee cup. He seemed to be mumbling to himself as if repeating some sort of chant or incantation.

  A few of the other restaurant patrons began to notice the man’s increasing agitation, whispering their concerns to each other. This man was known around the town as Crazy Willie, as was his father before him. He was a local old codger and reputed alcoholic, whose father had been a miner almost eighty years ago in the days when the Coogan mine had flourished. He was a hermit who lived alone in a rundown shack of a house at the lower end of town. People were accustomed to seeing him shambling about town, mumbling to himself and often looking over his shoulder as if watching out for some unknown danger that might be sneaking up on him.

  Jeanie was feeling very
uncomfortable as she continued her conversation with Ferguson. She ventured another glance back toward the kitchen to see if Maggie was still out of sight.

  “I have to be very careful Mr. Ferguson. Jobs ain’t just growing on trees around here these days, as you know. And with Charlie out of work… If I rub Maggie the wrong way, I’ll be back emptying bedpans up at the old folks’ home up in Franksville.”

  She hunched over and spoke as quietly as she could saying, “Freddie said it was much, much worse than if that the boy had just been torn apart and chewed up or anything like that.”

  The young woman at corner booth was also paying increased attention to the conversation, temporarily ignoring her young associate.

  Ferguson was somewhat confused by what Jeanie was trying to explain to him. “What do you mean Jeanie? What could possibly be worse than being mauled by a wild animal and ripped to pieces, perhaps while still alive?”

  Jeanie explained, “Freddie said that Jimmy … was all…. Wasted… wasted away.”

  “Wasted away? What do you mean wasted?” Ferguson questioned in a tone that was a bit louder than it should have been, considering the close proximity of the other patrons of the restaurant.

  Crazy Willie overheard this exchange, which made him set up straight in his booth and listen even more intently. His fingers continued to tap the table more nervously than before. His eyes began darting back and forth agitatedly as the patrons nearby became more concerned. Willie was a loose cannon, tending to go off from time to time; and he was exhibiting unpleasant signs that he might do so at any minute.

  Jeanie continued, “Freddie said that the body had all of its guts removed and it was all shriveled up like a prune or like one of them old mummies or something like that.”

  Ferguson exclaimed in astonishment, “How in the name of God could that be….”