Blue Macabre

by J. W. DeBrock

  He turned his eyes to hers. Slowly he rose and came to sit on the floor in front of her, laying his head in her lap. She held his head and stroked his hair as he cried. “Why, Jen. Why. I can’t believe they’re both gone.”

  “I don’t have an answer, baby. It’ll get better. Time does heal.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry . . .”

  BOOM !

  They both jumped at the deafening thunderclap and the brilliance of the lightning. “Damn!” cried Chris. “That WAS close!” He wiped his cheeks with his palms and stood up.

  “What the hell was that?” called Karin from a distance, her voice muffled through the bathroom door. Jenny got up and went to the kitchen counter, looking out through the window over the sink.

  It was more than close.

  The lightning had struck near the north wall of Jenny’s house enclosing her guest room – the far end of the house, away from life and the warmth of the fire. When the bolt hit, the electrical outlet giving life to the computer arced. It sputtered and produced a single spark, which fell toward where the plug lay. It landed on the grounding finger of the plug. In the absolute darkness the screen of the monitor developed a faint glow, and ghostly letters took shape, tentatively stating

  pwrcon

  A second spark crawled along the cord connecting the monitor and tower. The screen intensified in color to electric blue and the word, insistent.

  pwrcon

  A third and final spark wound around the keyboard cable and the Enter key depressed.

  Chapter Two

  Washington State Trooper Andy Jackson returned home the morning after the storm, having been on duty nearly fourteen hours. He looked exhausted, and as he pulled up in his driveway beside his house on Silver Lake his face fell as he saw the lake had laid waste his recently acquired, precious-beyond-all-measure bass boat. He swore aloud as he got out of the cruiser and stepped up onto his deck.

  The storm had finally let up around five in the morning, and he’d had more than his share of wrecks and assistance calls. As if nature wanted to add “Tough Shit”, the weather was now crystalline, the sky bright and cheerful, resident ducks of the lake beginning their habitual morning rounds of the docks looking for handouts. A half dozen skirted the foundered boat as if it were a nuisance and hopped up onto his deck, quacking and squawking. Normally he would have fed them a bit of dry dog kibble, but this morning he irritably yelled “Fuck off!” They fluttered in panic to the safety of the water.

  He unlocked his sliding glass door to find his Cocker Spaniel, Trooper, waiting in a panic. The dog dashed between Andy’s legs and vanished, presumably planning a return before the next scheduled feeding. The smell that wafted from inside to outside of the house was unpleasant; Andy wrinkled his nose and glanced around for a pile. Opening the slider as far as possible, he turned away and stepped across the deck, leaning over the railing and peering into the water at the sunken boat. A couple of minutes later his eye was captured by a flash of color on the deck next door. His neighbor and a man he’d never seen had carried their coffee cups outside. The color that attracted his eye was a bright yellow robe she was half wearing. He sighed. As he watched, he saw Trooper bound up on her deck to the woman and be affectionately petted, although she ordered him to stay down with his muddy feet.

  Jenny perched in one of her deck chairs. “He belongs to my next-door neighbor, the state trooper. I haven’t had a chance to tell you about him yet.”

  Chris waved Andy a greeting and yelled, “Morning. Looks like the storm got ya. Need any help?”

  Andy yelled back, “YEAH.” He stepped down from his deck and crossed the yards, his boots squishing the soaked grass. Trooper bounded away from Jenny and danced around his feet. “Traitor,” Andy mumbled under his breath. As he neared Jenny’s deck a gust of breeze flirted with her robe and revealed a shapely leg that looked like it ended in something lacy. He averted his eyes as he extended his hand to Chris. “Andy Jackson, former boat owner.”

  Chris laughed. “Chris Rawlins, Jenny’s brother.”

  “Good to meet you. I’ve heard Jenny speak of you often.”

  Chris raised his eyebrows and looked at his sister. “Really?”

  Jenny gathered her robe together as Trooper licked her ankles. “Careful,” Chris said as he watched the pink tongue flicker. “That might be habit-forming.”

  “Ha,” replied his sister. “I haven’t had a chance to fill you in, but Andy and I have been seeing each other for a few months.” She went to Andy and kissed his cheek as he put his arm around her.

  “Oh.”

  “Trooper, HOME.” Andy pointed and the dog slithered off Jenny’s deck, waddling off with his tail low.

  “Minds good,” observed Chris. “Come on in.” They went into the house.

  Andy sat at the table as Chris brought another mug and the coffee pot.

  “What a night.” Andy rubbed his eyes. “I thought that rain would never quit. Pounding. Lots of lightning too. Did the power go out here?”

  “Oh yeah. Stayed off most of the night. Jen and Karin and I had a few too many by the old fire, and that helped ease the pain. I take it you were out all night.”

  “Mmmm – wrecks right and left. Finish one, and another was right behind it. I think I could sleep all day, and hopefully I’ll get to after I do something with that boat – any suggestions?”

  “If it were me, I’d bribe my lovely sister into using the winch on her car. I think it would at least help.”

  Both men watched as Jenny entered the room in well-filled jeans and sweater. “I heard that. Andy’s so good to me, he doesn’t even have to bribe me.”

  A sleepy voice filtered down from the loft. “Hey Andy, hey Jen, hey Chris.” They looked up and saw Karin draped over the log railing. “Kinda early for company, isn’t it Andy?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, Karin – even the laziest of us DO eventually have to get up and around. Are you going to come down and be sociable?”

  “Soon as I hear you put on another pot of coffee.” The floorboards creaked as she moved about.

  Karin came down the steps and grabbed her coffee, taking the chair next to Andy and giving him a peck on the cheek. “Any calls to the meat wagon last night?”

  Andy laughed at her. “That’s why we all love you – you don’t beat around the bush.”

  “Yeah, well, gotta have some kind of excitement around here.”

  Warm sunshine streamed in through the window. “Looks like a nice day after all. What do you think about hitting a few logging roads?” Jenny put her arms around her brother’s neck and hugged him.

  “Wow! You must be physic.” He cringed as Jenny slapped him, and laughed. “I mean psychic.” He smiled. “Let’s help Andy with his sunken treasure and then just do it.” He looked at Karin. “Wanna come?”

  She stretched and yawned. “I DO have the day off.”

  Jenny pulled her vehicle in beside the patrol car, as close as possible to the spot where the boat sat submerged in the shallows. Andy went inside to change out of his uniform. Chris unwound the cable from the winch on her SUV, and secured it to the steel eye on the bow. Once Andy joined him, they waded into the water together and positioned themselves on either side of the sunken stern, forcing the craft to come around. “Shit this water’s cold!” Andy shouted, laughing. “Start the winch, Jen!”

  She started the engine, and as she flipped a switch the winch whined to life and the cable jerked straight as the boat balked. She leaned out the window.

  “The lake may refuse to give up its dead!”

  The boat began to inch from the water as the winch continued to pull; the trolling motor on the bow pointed skyward. “MORE!” Chris shouted.

  He and Andy steadied the boat as it slowly began to emerge. The whole of it was soon visible, and Andy signaled Jenny to back off. He and Chris bailed the remainder of the lake from the hold, and re-secured the boat to the deck. Andy wiped water grass from the top of the motor and notice
d a few minnows flipping in silvery arcs across the floor of the craft.

  Jenny parked her truck at home and trotted back to join them. They stood admiring the boat, a slick blue figerglass beauty with elevated seats, large outboard, electric trolling motor, and plenty of stowaway space for gear. “It’s fantastic,” exclaimed Chris. “Looks brand new despite the water grass it’s growing.”

  Trooper, who had cowered in a corner during the screaming of the winch, took a flying leap from the deck and landed in the bottom of the boat with a thud. The boat rocked and splashed as he snapped at the minnows. “He loves to go out,” Andy said. “I think he likes the way the wind blows his ears back when we’re going fast. Crazy mutt.” Chris kneeled and reached to pet the dog, rubbing his ears affectionately. He cleared some dripping fronds from one of the seats. “I haven’t had it very long. Good thing my rods and tackle weren’t in it. Looks like I’ll be pulling those motors into the shop.”

  Chris asked, “How about a little fishing some time? It’s been a while for me and some fresh bass sure sounds good.”

  “You’re on. After my watch tonight, I’ve got a few days off due to comp time I’ve accrued. You know how the state hates to pay overtime. Right now, though, I’m gonna ditch these wet clothes and hit the sack.” He shook hands with Chris and was careful to not drip on Jenny as he kissed her. “Thanks again.”

  “Hey, JEN,” shouted Karin from Jenny’s door. “Want me to pack the usual?”

  “Be right there.” She turned to Andy. “How about dinner tonight? Chris is a fantastic cook, and if he’s up to it, we can charcoal some steaks.” She looked at her brother.

  “I’m game.” He squeezed water from his sleeves and pant legs.

  “Great – except, I have to work tonight, it’s my last shift. Tomorrow night works, though.” Andy turned to go and then paused. “If you guys do go up the mountain, watch it. I’ve heard there’s still a lot of ice above four thousand. I don’t want to get a rescue call for YOU.”

  Chris headed to his room, remembered something he’d meant to tell his sister, and wandered back to the kitchen where she was spooning cat food into Rebecca’s bowl. “Jen, does your computer stay on all the time? Some kind of sleep mode?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “I’m sure you’ll laugh. Last night when we finally went to bed it seemed like it was sort of glowing.”

  She did laugh. “Oh, right. I think YOU probably had the glow from just a little too much alcohol combined with natural gas.”

  “See. Knew you’d laugh.” He wrinkled his nose. “Phew. Got to get rid of the Shithouse-Door-On-The-Tuna-Boat smell.”

  The girls laughed and Jenny raised her voice as he headed down the hall to the bathroom. “Sure thing. The smell makes you even less tolerable.” She tossed the cat food can into the trashcan under the sink. It landed with a clink against beer bottles.

  From her vantage point on a nearby chair, Rebecca’s cat eyes followed his every movement beneath her half-closed eyelids.

  He turned on the tub faucet, relishing the thought of stretching out in the steamy water. As the tub filled he went to his room to grab clothes. He glanced at the computer he’d been ridiculed for and shook his head. He bent over beside the bed to pick up his boots, and as he straightened up was startled. A word flickered on the monitor

  pwrcon

  Amazed, he walked over and looked closely at what was becoming a brilliant blue screen. As he watched it blinked twice, hummed softly, and went black. He touched the top of the monitor, feeling it slightly warm. He reached to test the keyboard and as his middle finger connected with the ENTER key he yanked back his hand. A tiny spark and shock met his fingertip. Remembering his bath water, he picked up his clothes and glanced at the computer as he left the room. It was innocently dark.

  The plug was not in the wall.

  The metal frame of his wedding photo rested against the drive housing.

  He’d been soaking for a little while when Jenny rapped on the door. “What are you up to in there?”

  He smiled wickedly. “About nine inches.”

  She hammered on the door. “Dreamer. I suggest you quit playing with yourself and get ready to go.” She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing as she returned to the kitchen.

  Reluctantly, he stood in the tub and bent to let the water out. He reached for a towel and rubbed his skin vigorously. There was a full-length mirror on the back of the door; he stepped from the tub and watched himself as he continued drying off. Twenty-five years old, he was well-developed, in great shape. His head was loaded with handsome blonde curls, his frame lightly covered with coarse brown hair. He stood tall at six-four. The eyes that were reflected were light steel blue and had enabled many a seduction. He rubbed his genitals briskly with the towel. His penis began to swell, and he let it, stroking.

  Chris I just cant do that

  Come on baby

  No I cant

  Here let me show you

  Please dont make me do that

  Come on babe I promise it wont hurt

  Please

  Just hold that like this

  The cat sat on the hall side of the bathroom door, sniffing the moist air coming from underneath the crack at the bottom.

  He joined the girls in the kitchen. Jenny was packing an ancient wicker basket used by his family for as long as he could remember.

  Karin came in from the yard. “We better take some coats. You still have those blankets in the car?”

  “Yeah, still do. Cold out?”

  “It’s warming up, but it’ll still be cold up there in the snow, y’know!” She put her hand on Jenny’s cheek.

  “Yow!” cried Jenny as they laughed together.

  As they loaded up, Chris mentioned, “By the way, next time we go to town we need to get a surge strip for that relic you loosely refer to as a computer. It almost shocked me a while ago when I touched it.”

  She looked at him skeptically. “Oh, right, I guess it’s finally happened.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve lost your freakin’ mind.” She and Karin laughed.

  “Well, I don’t freakin’ think so.” He sat in the driver’s seat and patted the passenger side. “Sit here, Karin.”

  Heading East around the end of Silver Lake, they turned onto the Spirit Lake Memorial Highway, a scenic road named after the many casualties of the 1980 eruption. Chris recalled much of the roadbed had been rebuilt, the original buried under tremendous rivers of mud and pyroclastic flows. Lines still visible on surrounding utility poles testified to the magnitude of the scouring and flooding. Ten miles down the road they veered off onto a commercial logging road, crossing the north fork of the Toutle River via a replacement steel bridge, the original also wiped out by the mountain. Chris had spent a great deal of time cruising the area in earlier years. His dad had taught him how to drive by learning the old logging trails. He was very familiar with them; he knew which were mostly dead ends, which seemed to lead to the middle of nowhere, and which led you either where you wanted to go or at least to a civilized road. Bouncing and jolting over ruts and potholes, they skirted the edge of the blast area, decades later still in the process of natural reclamation. Chris and Jenny had grown up loving this middle of nowhere, reveling in such sensations as the sound of wind rustling through trees, water rushing over smooth stones, the snap of forest floor coverings underfoot. Jenny slouched comfortably in the back seat, the open windows rushed with fresh air. As they wound around the mountain, they passed a couple of deserted camping areas. “Let’s head further up – doesn’t look like it’s too bad,” offered Chris.

  He turned onto an old Forest Service road and stopped, putting the SUV in neutral and pushing the button for the 4-wheel drive. As Karin watched him, he suddenly gasped and grabbed the sides of his head. “What’s wrong?” She cried in alarm.

  The pain passed as quickly as it came. He stared through the windshield for a moment, then pressed on his eyelids wit
h his fingertips. Jenny watched him closely. “Chris?” she asked.

  “Ah, I’m okay . . . probably all that beer and chili last night.” He squinted from the surrounding glare bouncing off the ice and snow.l

  “You sure? You look a little pale.”

  “Ah, I’ll live. It’s nothing.” He reached over and patted Karin’s leg. She and Jenny exchanged glances, Jenny’s eyebrows raised. He completed the switchover to 4WD and resumed his trek.

  Further on, they began a steady climb – the higher they went the thicker the crystal frosting. He found the road slushy, but occasional slick spots tested his mettle as a driver as well as the 4WD’s maneuverability. He had been up and down this particular road many times frequenting a remote fishing lake. In the back of his mind he recalled a wide spot in the one lane road in which they should be able to turn around. Jenny squirmed in her seat as she watched the snow pack on the vertical side of the mountain mushroom to three, four, five feet. The laden branches of the fir trees melded into the snow surrounding their bases. The view from the passenger side window was inspiring, but they were winding very far up the remote back side of the mountain. The road was not even visible fifty yards behind due to its hairpin curves. Chris noticed he was having a little difficulty concentrating; his mind seemed to be wavering back and forth about how far and how fast they would fall if he ran off the road. Jenny reached from the back and clutched the sides of his seat. “Hey – let’s turn around.”