Rogue's Hollow

by Jan Tilley

  It made the kid uncomfortable. He nervously shifted from one foot to the other, and finally said, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Malachi smiled, and leaned against the counter. “Travis, I’m the end of the line here. When I’m gone, this old mill will shrivel up and die.”

  Travis shook his head. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Gotta face the facts, my friend. I’m sixty-six years old, and I’m not getting any younger.” He put a hand on Travis’s shoulder, and said, “Is there any chance that you would consider taking over when I’m gone?”

  Travis reared back. “What? No, I don’t even want to think about it, let alone talk about it. Malachi, you’re the closest thing to family that I have. I know that my mom loves me, in her own way. But she’s living her life for herself. She never really thinks about me. You’ve been the one to help me through a lot of hard times.” Shaking his head, he looked away. “I don’t even want to think about you not being here.”

  “I’m not planning on going anywhere any time soon. But when the time does come, many years from now, would you consider it?” Malachi’s piercing eyes bore right into Travis as he anxiously awaited his answer.

  Travis shook his bangs and rolled his tongue around, playing with his piercing inside his mouth. “You mean like live here and do what you do?”

  “Exactly. You would take over as the proprietor of the Old Mill General Store. Would you be interested?”

  “How much would it cost?”

  Malachi smiled. “Nothing. I would leave it to you. It would be yours free and clear.”

  “For free? For real?” Travis said with confusion in his voice.

  “Yep, for real. Actually, we could add your name on the deed now, so that you don’t have a headache with the probate court later on.”

  Travis’s eyes darted to Malachi, then back to the sizzling bacon. Finally, he looked at him, and asked, “Are you messing with me or are you serious?”

  “I’m absolutely serious. We can get all the paperwork done and finalized as soon as you’re eighteen.”

  “I’m already eighteen,” Travis said proudly.

  Shaking his head, Malachi asked, “Well, I had no idea. Congratulations. When was your birthday?”

  Travis looked away and his face drew a blank gaze. He stared at the bacon and numbly replied, “I turned eighteen the day after Junior died.”

  Malachi stood silent, taking it all in and thinking how horrible that must have been. What a way to celebrate a special day. He looked at Travis and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  Focusing on his task, he never looked up, but slowly began sharing his feelings. “It was awful, Malachi. I just knew that I was gonna get caught. I’d be tried as an adult and spend the rest of my life in prison.” Looking over at Malachi, he shrugged. “It was a pretty crappy birthday.”

  “Did your Mom do anything special for you?” Malachi could see that he was sad, but he wanted to draw as much information out of him as he could. Travis was pretty closed up these days emotionally, so he was utilizing every opportunity that he could to reach inside and connect with him.

  “Mom had to work. But she left me a couple of presents on the dining room table. I got a new pair of Nikes and some t-shirts.” He glanced over at Malachi with eyes mature beyond their years, and said, “She tries.”

  Malachi hung his head, feeling like he had failed his friend. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t know what to do after the accident. If I just showed up at your apartment, I thought it might raise suspicion. And how would I explain my visit to your Mom? I was so confused. But I am genuinely sorry that I wasn’t there.” Malachi’s offer took on even more weight with the heaviness in his heart. “Let me make it up to you. Can I give you this old mill? You could even move out here and work full time with me, after you graduate. If you want to, that is.”

  Travis grinned and nodded. “That would be pretty sweet. I never thought I’d have my own business. I figured I’d end up at the textile factory or bagging groceries for the rest of my life.”

  Malachi smiled. “Then its official. You will be my successor.” He picked up a wooden spoon, regally stood before Travis and tapped him gently on each shoulder. “I knight thee, King of the Old Chidester Mill.”

  Travis laughed and took a bow of pride. He was hit by a wave of emotion and began to feel like maybe there was some purpose for his life. He had a future to look forward to. This was the first stroke of good luck he’d ever received.

  Over breakfast they talked about changes they’d like to make at the store. Travis had some really solid ideas about what customers might want to see, especially younger people. Malachi knew that this was the right decision. His old heart swelled as he watched Travis light up, making plans for the future.

  With new enthusiasm, Travis jumped up from the table. “Can you handle the dishes, Malachi? I want to get back to work on scraping the rest of the outside, so we can get a fresh coat of paint on her before winter sets in.”

  Malachi nodded. “Yes, you go, son. Please be careful on that old ladder.” Travis took off in a flash. As Malachi sat and finished his tea, he couldn’t help but smile. He felt like he also had a future again. He finally had someone that he could count on to be there and help out. This would be a great partnership for them both.

  With the dishes neatly stacked on a towel to dry, he focused and went right to work. He opened his closet and pulled out a small metal box which held his important documents. Sitting back down at the kitchen table, he creaked open the strongbox. Inside it were a few old savings bonds, the title to Rosie and his deed to the mill. Norma had signed it over to him the year she passed away, after she was given her cancer death sentence. Malachi touched his mother’s signature, remembering how hard her life was. She was a good mother, always there for him. Much different than Travis’s mom. That woman couldn’t seem to be bothered with her own son. What a shame for a mother to turn her back on her flesh and blood like that.

  Things would be different now. Malachi wanted to show Travis what it meant to truly be there for someone, to be a family. And just maybe, Travis would find the perfect gal. This old mill needed a family in it again. The sound of laughter had echoed through the old building at one time. It deserved to feel that love again. Malachi couldn’t help but smile as he thought of Travis raising a family here. This was the right thing to do. With a heavy heart, he whispered, “I miss you Mama. I hope that you’re proud of me.”

  As he scribbled down notes to take to the attorney’s office to change the documents, he realized that he didn’t even know Travis’s last name. Malachi shook his head and mumbled to himself, “How can that be?” Had Travis told him and he’d forgotten? He wracked his brain, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it.

  He walked outside where he found Travis ten feet up on the ladder, scraping away. Malachi smiled as he looked around. The paint flakes floating in the air made it look like it was snowing. “How you doing up there, son?”

  Travis looked down and his face lit up with a huge smile. “Grand and dandy.”

  Malachi couldn’t help but notice how happy he was. “Hey, Travis. Have you ever told me your last name? For the life of me, I can’t recall it.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think it ever came up. It’s Edington. Travis Edington.”

  Malachi nodded. “Nice, solid name. Thanks. I was getting the paperwork together, and realized that I didn’t have that one vital piece of information.” Stepping back so that he could see better, Malachi smiled, “You’re doing a fine job, Mr. Edington. The place is really coming around.”

  Travis’s face lit up. “Why thank you, Mr. Chidester. This is hard work, but fun in a strange way, too. I can see the progress.” He’d never taken on a project this big in his entire life. But it was different now. He had a vested interest in the old mill and that made him work even harder. It was his responsibility to see that the work got done properly. Malac
hi and this old mill had saved his life and gave him a real future to look forward to. Travis vowed to do everything in his power to live up to Malachi’s expectations of him. And, for the first time in his life, Travis had high expectations for himself, too.

  Malachi squinted into the rising sun. “Do you need anything, Travis?”

  “Nope. I’m good here. Thanks.”

  “Well then, I’ll get back to my paperwork. Holler if you need anything and please be careful up there.”

  “Will do, Stumpy.”

  Malachi shook his head and grinned as he walked back inside. He plopped down at the kitchen table and wrote out the name, Travis Edington. He rested the pen on the side of his head, as though that helped him think and repeated to himself, “Edington. Travis Edington. That last name sounds so familiar.”

  He laid his pen down on the table with the books and carefully maneuvered the staircase down to the cold, dusty cellar. Just out of curiosity, he had to check the book. Cobwebs hung from the doorway which he brushed off with an old broom handle as he entered a room that was pitch black. His heart raced as he frantically grasped into the darkness searching for the pull-chain to turn on the old light fixture that hung down from the musty ceiling. This room always gave him the creeps. He pulled the chain and then grabbed the light trying to steady it from swinging back and forth. It illuminated strange shadows onto the walls.

  Cobwebs were thick and hanging low from the exposed wooden plank ceiling. The mortar on the brick walls was crumbling into powder. In the middle of the room sat an old wooden table made of thick boards. The wood was taken from fallen trees in the forest behind the mill. His grandfather had built the massive table when Malachi was just a mere child. Slowly he ran his hand along the dusty wood grain. He could almost hear his grandfather’s voice and the way he talked to Malachi as he built the table. “Son, this wood belongs here. That big old walnut tree lived its entire life on this property. I’m going to build a massive table that no one will ever be able to remove from this room. Short of some fool taking a saw to it, the tree will remain with this old mill forever more. Just as it should be.”

  A smile curled up the corners of Malachi’s mouth as he remembered his granddad carefully sanding the rough wood down to a beautiful smooth finish. He followed the grain with his hand and made his way around the back side of the table as the light bulb continued to gently sway, casting ominous shadows onto the walls.

  Malachi came around the corner and stopped at a dead halt as he saw two green eyes staring at him in the flickering dim light. He stepped back quickly and slammed against the crumbling brick wall. Standing frozen with his back to the wall, a large black cat emerged from the shadows, hissed at him and leapt out a broken window that led to the back of the mill.

  He grabbed his chest and took a few deep breaths trying to calm down. Sweat beads formed on his forehead which he wiped off with his handkerchief. He shook his head and said to himself, “I’m getting too old for a scare like that. Why do cats seem to have devil eyes?”

  Malachi took another deep breath and refocused his attention. Glancing around, he spotted what he’d come down here for in the first place. He walked over to a large shelving unit bolted to the old brick wall and pulled a large wooden box off the top shelf. Slowly, he opened it and carefully removed a bulky, leather bound book. He cringed as he lifted it with his tender hand. Brushing dust from the cover, he sat down at the old walnut table and stared at the historic book for a moment. It was tied closed with cracked, wide leather straps. On the front cover an inscription was carved into the leather which simply read, The Awakening.

  It was the sacred book that the religious reformist group kept when they inhabited this area, over two hundred years ago. Malachi’s great-great grandfather, Ambrose Chidester, was a founding member of the group, which was more or less a cult.

  Malachi sat and stared at the cover, almost afraid to open the sacred pages. He closed his eyes, laid his hand on the well-worn leather and whispered, “Forgive them of their deeds.” Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around the dimly lit room, glancing over his shoulder. It always gave him the creeps down in the cellar. Just the thought of what took place on this land decades ago sent chills down his spine.

  Gently, he opened the heavy cover and carefully placed his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. With great caution, he leafed through the pages, turning each with care until he found the exact one he was looking for. It was the page that listed the group’s membership. His index finger stump ran down the column and came to rest on a name, Marcus Edington. He was listed as an elder in the discipleship, as was his own great-great grandfather, Ambrose. Malachi stared at the name in disbelief and thought to himself, Could it be possible?

  Just then, a hand rested firmly on his shoulder and a voice said, “Malachi.” He was so surprised that he jumped up, knocking his chair backwards onto the dirt floor. A cloud of dust filled the air and his glasses flew off his face as he turned around. He stood trembling in a fighting stance, arms raised with his eyes wide, nervously trying to make out the figure in the dimly lit room.

  “Whoa, Malachi. Calm down.”

  “Travis?” he questioned, trying to catch his breath.

  “Yeah. It’s just me. I didn’t mean to startle you like that. I yelled for you upstairs, but couldn’t find you. I saw the cellar door open and came on down. Sorry to scare you.” He picked up Malachi’s glasses off the dirt floor and handed them to him as he nonchalantly looked down at the book on the table. Squinting in the dim light, he tried to read some of the fine print.

  “Thank you, son. I’m sorry that I reacted like that. When you’ve lived alone as long as I have, it startles you when someone walks in on you.”

  “No problem. What are you doing down here?”

  Malachi stepped in front of him, quickly closed the cover and placed the heavy book back into its holding box.

  Travis craned over his shoulder trying to see it. “What is that? That’s a cool old book. Can I see it?”

  He turned away from Travis and snapped, “No, absolutely not. It’s private family history.” He closed up the box and nervously turned to face Travis. “Now, what did you need me for?”

  Travis shook his head. For a moment he’d completely forgotten what he’d come down for. Then he nodded, “Oh, yeah. Hey, do you have any caulk? I found a couple of small gaps around one of those second story windows that might try to leak. I thought maybe I should caulk it before I throw on a fresh coat of paint.”

  Malachi lifted the heavy book and placed it back onto the shelf, ushering Travis from the small room. “I believe that I have a tube in the maintenance room over here. It might be old and dried up though, let’s check.”

  Travis followed Malachi to a room filled with tools and pieces of broken mill parts, just waiting their turn for repair. He found an old caulk gun, with half a tube still engaged. Squeezing the trigger, he grimaced as he exerted extra energy. “Nope. Dry as a bone.” Fighting with the tool, he removed the old tube and continued, “I’ll get some in town the next time I run in. Would that work?”

  Nodding, Travis replied, “Yeah, that’d be fine. Thanks.”

  Malachi ushered Travis up the narrow staircase and back into the mill store, desperately trying to steer the discussion away from the book. “Hey we’ve got a broken window down there that’s going to need replaced. Seems that unbeknownst to us, a feral cat has also been calling this old mill home. Are you about ready for a Coke?”

  Travis wiped his forehead. “Sounds great. It’s getting pretty warm out there. I saw some extra glass panes out in the shed. I’ll get that broken window fixed this afternoon.”

  Malachi grabbed a small key from under the front counter and handed it to Travis. “Here, son, take this. Then you can open the pop machine whenever you want and grab a cold one.” He scowled his wrinkled face and said, “Just don’t lose it. I only have two keys. You and I each have one now. Actually, here,” he said as he handed Travis anothe
r key. “Take this spare front door key as well. Just in case you might need it. Do you have a good key ring to keep these on?”

  Travis shook his head and pulled out a tiny ring from his pocket, with one lone key on it. “Not really. All I have is a key to the apartment, so I never really needed anything fancy.”

  Malachi laughed. “Fancy, schmancy. You don’t need anything fancy. You need something sturdy.” He fumbled through the desk drawer and pulled out a carabiner, still in the wrapper and handed it to Travis. “Here, use this. It will help you get organized. Organization is vital to business management.”

  Travis’s face lit up. “Cool. I’ve always wanted one of these. I just never had anything to carry on it.” He smiled at Malachi and said, “Thanks. This is awesome.” He cocked his head and smirked. “Do I get a key to Rosie, too?”

  Malachi threw his hands in the air. “Oh, don’t even go there. You have to earn the right to touch my girl. That will take me a bit longer.” He smiled at Travis, admiring the way he was taking hold of his new found responsibilities.

  Travis nodded. “I understand.” He placed his new keys on the shiny red carabiner, hooked in onto his belt loop, and smiled at Malachi. “Thanks for all this. It really does mean a lot to me.”

  A warm smile crept across Malachi’s face. “Everything in due time, my friend. You make me proud, son.”

  Brushing his shaggy hair from his face, Travis nodded shyly. “I’m doing my best.”

  Placing a firm hand on his shoulder, Malachi smiled. “That’s all anyone can ask for.” He tried to reassure the nervous kid. “You’ll do just fine. Now, how about we get that nice cold soda pop?”

  Travis used his new key and opened the machine, exposing the carbonated jackpot. He grabbed a Coke and smiled at Malachi. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Laughing, Malachi reached for a root beer and said, “Smart aleck!”

  The two sat down on old rocking chairs that rested on the front stoop of the mill. Curiosity was eating at Malachi as he slowly sipped his sweet treat. “Travis, have you ever heard the name Marcus Edington? It appears that he was friends with my great-great grandfather. I was just curious if he might be a relation to you?”