by Jan Tilley
Travis swigged his Coke and thought for a moment. “I do kinda recall that name. Every year on Memorial Day, my Mom makes me go with her to the family plot at the graveyard to lay flowers on Holly’s grave. I think I remember seeing that name on one of the big markers. It was the biggest one in our area, like he was our founding father or something. Yeah, smack dab in the center of the plot. Marcus Edington, I do remember seeing it. ”
Nodding, Malachi grinned at him. “Small world isn’t it. Our relatives were friends hundreds of years ago, and now you and I meet and become friends.” He took another sip of his drink, and continued, “Actually, Marcus lived here with my relative, Ambrose. Isn’t that strange? Our families were friends decades ago, and we didn’t even realize it.”
Travis became curious and asked, “What’d they do here? Did they run the mill?”
Malachi nodded, as he leaned back and rocked in his squeaky wooden chair. “Yeah, they did. They were kind of an odd bunch, if I do say so myself.” He looked off into the forest and grinned. “They didn’t believe the same as other folks. They were rebels who took over running the mill and started their own religion. They called it The Awakening.” He stopped rocking and became lost in thought.
Travis felt his leg begin to nervously twitch, as he waited for Malachi to snap out of his trance. “How many of them were there?”
Shaking his head, Malachi replied, “Around a dozen. Five of those were considered the elders. Both of our relatives were in that group. They made the rules and formed the new church, right here, on this land.” As his chair began to rock and squeak again, he spoke quietly. “Most of the women didn’t like it out here, so they had a big community building in town. They all lived together and raised the children, while the men stayed out here at the mill and worked. Times were hard back then and jobs were scarce. These men were grateful to be able to earn a living and provide for their families. They ran the woolen mill here, but they also had a seasonal maple syrup camp and made bricks in a kiln they built up on Silver Creek Ridge.”
Travis looked around. “I wonder what it was like back then.”
“It was hard work, just like we should be doing.” Malachi grinned and slapped his knee. “Now, let’s get back to it.” He stood up, finished his root beer and glanced around. “The place is looking real good, Travis. It looks like someone really cares about it. You’re doing a fine job. I bet our ancestors are really proud.”
Twelve
By late October and the duo had fallen into a comfortable routine. Travis had reached a point where he wasn’t spending that much time at home, so his Mom had moved out of their apartment in Canal Fulton and into her boyfriend‘s house. She and her new boyfriend felt that since Travis was eighteen, he was an adult and should make his own way in the world. She seemed happy to be freed of the responsibilities that came with parenthood. This gave Malachi the extra nudge he needed to open his home to his young friend on a full-time basis.
Malachi embraced the opportunity to have a housemate again. But in private he was appalled. How could a mother just move on like that and abandon her son? Yes, he was legally an adult, but he was still a child in so many ways. He was desperately trying to finish high school and get his diploma. There were many times when Travis had wanted to walk away and quit school. Malachi refused to allow it. Travis would be the first member of his family to receive his high school diploma, and this was a task that Malachi was determined to help him accomplish. They were almost half-way thru his senior year. It took a lot of dedication on both their parts, but it was a goal very much worth achieving.
Even though he loved his young roommate, the new arrangement did put some extra burden on Malachi. He had a decent amount of money set aside, so living with someone who ate like a horse was something that he could handle. They were more than able to live on his social security check and what income they got from the store. Through the years, he had seen several opportunities to make smart investments and had jumped on them. In a small strongbox under his bed were stocks in several gas wells and a collection of gold coins dating back to the eighteenth century. Every year he bought a new coin to add to the collection.
In the old days, when he was bored, Malachi would get out his jeweler’s loop and carefully inspect the old coins. The detailing of the old coins was such a work of art. But there was no time for doodling anymore. He and Travis were on a mission to breathe life back into the old mill.
Money wasn’t necessarily a burden for Malachi, but driving back and forth into town twice a day to get Travis to and from school was a massive drain on his energy. Rogue’s Hollow was outside of the Canal Fulton school district, so there was no bus route available to them. Malachi made the trek twice a day and never gave Travis a hint that it was a hardship on him. He feared that might be all the ammunition Travis would need to give up on his schooling and he was not going to give him an excuse to quit.
Early one morning as Malachi returned home, he gave his girl Rosie a gentle pat and sat down on a bench beside her. He talked to her as though she were a real person, a friend sitting there right beside him. “Old gal, you’re a racehorse. I know this doesn’t bother you a bit, driving back and forth every day. But, it’s starting to wear on this old man.”
With a heavy sigh, he put his hands on his knees and thought for a moment. “I’m gonna have to pass over the reigns, Rosie. Travis is doing so well. He’s come back around and is focused again. He has done everything that I’ve asked of him. Tomorrow I will reward him by allowing him to drive you into town, alone.” He stood up and gently stroked her crimson side. Whispering to her, he said, “Take good care of him, Rosie. Try to keep his young ways under control and keep him safe. He’s all that I have left.”
Malachi meandered into the store, turned the sign on the front door to ‘Open’ and slowly looked around. He nodded and smiled as he inspected all the work they’d put into the old mill. The place really looked good. It was clean and well stocked. Travis was doing a fine job and Malachi was more than pleased. Not only did it make his old heart swell to have his young friend’s companionship, but he felt like he was changing Travis’s life; giving him a future and a career. He was leaving a legacy, which for a long time he thought wasn’t going to happen. This pleased Malachi greatly and drew a smile to his creased aging face, making his blue eyes sparkle as he tried to imagine what the future might hold for Travis.
It was a slow day at the mill store and only two tourists wandered in for a look around. Some folks spent lots of time in the history room and some just took a brief peek. The current pair was very curious and asked lots of questions. Malachi enjoyed spending time with them, explaining the pictures and showing them old literature about the mill and the history of Rogue’s Hollow.
They were eager to purchase an amulet, which he generously sprinkled with fresh angel blessing from under the counter. The female held the treasure close to her chest and thanked Malachi for the protection.
After they left, he went back into the history room and closely inspected the photographs. Most of them didn’t indicate names, but there was one that did. Carefully taking it down off the wall, he removed the old photo from the frame. Fumbling in his pocket, he took out his reading glasses and flipped it over to look at the names printed on the back, wondering if one of the men could be Marcus Edington. His stumpy finger moved across the names and came to a grinding halt when it reached the man’s name. Turning the picture around, he lined up the name with the body. The identified man had an ominous face. He looked so angry, like he could rip your head off. None of the men were smiling; it was unheard of in that era. But, beyond the straight face, the man’s cold eyes sent chills down Malachi’s spine. As hard as Malachi searched, he couldn’t see any family resemblance to Travis at all.
Flipping the sign around, he closed up shop and made the twenty-minute haul into town to pick Travis up from school. He wondered if he should share the photograph with him. It was his ancestor after all, but the man looked dark and
mean and Travis was in a fragile place right now. As Malachi remembered from his own sadness, it was harder to stay on the lightened path than it was to walk in the darkness. In the light, there are expectations and sometimes it can be difficult to live up to them. He didn’t want to do anything to trigger Travis back to the dark side. He refused to let it win and take his friend away.
When Travis came out of the school, Malachi was sitting in the passenger seat. Travis walked to the passenger side window, looked at Malachi with confusion and said, “What’s up?”
Malachi winked at him. “It’s your turn now, son. Hop in, you’re driving.”
Travis didn’t quite understand what was happening and stood frozen in time. Squinting, he tried to absorb what Malachi had just said. Finally, his face lit up and he wasted no time, quickly jumping into the driver’s seat, almost afraid that Malachi might change his mind. He looked over at Malachi. “Are you sure about this? Rosie is your baby.”
Malachi handed him a set of keys. “Put these on your carabiner. I think it’s time that you get an additional responsibility. If you prove to me that you will take care of her, you may drive Rosie into town, on your own.”
Travis grabbed the keys and stared at Malachi. “Seriously? You’re not playing some trick on me are you?”
“Nope. No game, son. This is the real deal. I think it’s time. Be gentle with the old gal. She’s not a pup that you can roughhouse with.”
“Yes, sir. I know that. She’s a classic. I never thought that you’d let me drive her, ever! And I get my own set of keys, too?”
“Yep. Don’t lose them.” Malachi fastened his seatbelt and smiled. “Well? What are you waiting for? Let’s ride!”
Travis squirmed in his seat and slid the key into the ignition. He turned it slowly and fired her up. “Awesome!” He was grinning ear to ear as he looked at Malachi and said, “Sweet!”
“Indeed she is. Now fasten that buckle and let’s hit the road.”
Travis had driven his mom’s old piece-of-crap car before, but nothing like Rosie. He sat up straight and focused intently, like he was driving a Porsche. Malachi watched him out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t his style to hover, but this was his Rosie that he was entrusting to someone else for the first time ever. He couldn’t help but grin as he watched how nervous and excited Travis was.
On the ride home he gave Travis pointers about her little quirks. “Rosie is like a temperamental woman. You have to do it her way or she’ll let you know about it.”
Travis nodded and absorbed every word that he was told. This was a big day for him. He had never been entrusted with anything in his entire life. Now he was given a job, a business and permission to drive the greatest truck ever built. This wasn’t a good day for Travis, it was a great day! He couldn’t stop smiling. He felt like he was king of the world.
Thirteen
Halloween weekend was always the biggest event of the year at the Old Mill General Store. The shelves were stocked and the amulet bucket overflowed. This was one time of year when everyone wanted to purchase a sacred amulet. They felt like they needed all the protection they could get.
Malachi took great delight in warning them of the evil that lurked in the darkness at Rogue’s Hollow. The area was legendary and folks came from all over, especially at this time of year. Everyone wanted a little scare at Halloween.
Travis was smiling all the time and seemed to have found himself again. The duo were ready for the flood of tourists headed to Rogue’s Hollow this weekend in search of chills and thrills.
The first of the visitors began to trickle into the store. Malachi greeted them warmly and showed them around. One small group of teenagers wandered around the store, giggling at some of the old time treats. Malachi approached them with his warm, friendly disposition. “Morning, young people. Welcome to the Old Mill General Store. Where strangers are just friends we’ve yet to meet! How are we doing today?”
A polite young man smiled and replied, “We are having a blast. Is this your place?”
“Indeed it is.”
“This stuff is amazing. I have no idea what some of this even is, but I love it.”
“Why thank you, young sir. What brings you folks to Rogue’s Hollow on this crisp Hallow’s eve?”
“What else? We’re looking to be scared out of our wits and heard this is the place to come.”
One of the young girls nodded. “My mom grew up in Canal Fulton. I’ve heard the legendary tales of this area for so long that we just decided to jump in the car and see it for ourselves.”
“Staying in the area or just passing through?” Malachi asked with genuine curiosity.
“My aunt still lives in Canal Fulton so we’re staying the night with her.”
The young man chimed in, “Figured we’d get a jump start on where to go and what to see while it was still daylight out. Our plan is to come back to the hollow at midnight, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous Rogue’s Hollow ghosts.”
“Sounds like a good plan. You don’t want to get lost out here, especially at night. I suggest you check out the old witch’s house. That seems to be a Halloween favorite.”
Malachi talked them into purchasing a few sacred amulets and sent them on their way. As they left, Malachi closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.
Travis had watched the entire scene with a grin on his face. When he saw Malachi’s reaction, the smile drifted away with confusion. “What’s wrong?”
Slowly opening his eyes, he looked at Travis. “I’m old, that is what’s wrong. I just don’t have the energy to keep up with these young people anymore. They’re going to want a show and I just don’t have the strength to oblige, especially at midnight. Heavens, why does everything have to happen at midnight?”
Travis’s face lit up with a big smile. “I could do it. If you tell me what to do.” He nodded like an eager pup. “Seriously! I think it would be fun.”
“Son, it’s a lot of work. And if you get caught, our cover is blown for sure. If folks know that one thing is fake, they’ll think everything about the hollow is a hoax and we‘d lose a lot of business.”
“I’ll be real careful. Teach me, Malachi. I want to help.”
Malachi sat silent for a moment, lost in his own rambling thoughts. His back was against the wall and he didn’t feel like he had much of a choice. If he was going to pass over the reins, he’d have to pass them all. “Okay, Travis. We’ll work on a plan this afternoon.”
Travis slapped his hands together and excitedly said, “Yes!”
As dusk began to fall, Malachi helped Travis gather up his gear. The plan was to focus on the old witch’s house. It was located at an isolated bend in the road and was an easy target for thrill seekers. The old place had stood vacant for well over twenty years. It was locked up tight as a drum with no-trespassing signs clearly posted. But that didn’t stop folks from creeping around in the darkness and peering into the dirty windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the witch’s ghost.
Malachi had heard scads of rumors about the old witch, who in actuality was just a sweet old gypsy lady they called Miss Renay. She enjoyed telling fortunes and reading tea leaves, but meant no harm to anyone. She was incredibly misunderstood by outsiders.
Several folks had shown up at the general store over the years clutching pictures they’d taken at the witch’s house. You could clearly see an image staring back at them through the windows. Malachi had spent his entire life in this old hollow. He was well aware that strange things are known to happen here. He was still friends with his dead childhood friend, Maggie, for heaven’s sake. Anything was possible. But, personally he’d never seen hide nor hair of Miss Renay since her passing. He felt that she was at peace wherever she was now.
Once a week, Malachi stopped by her house to check on things. Many of the windows had been broken out over the years. Like a good neighbor, Malachi cut sections of plywood and boarded up the damaged panes. Each time he’d shake his head in frustration and mumble, �
�Why doesn’t her daughter just sell this place off?”
But he knew the truth. Miss Renay’s daughter was raised there and had been constantly embarrassed by her mother’s ‘odd ways.’ When she became a teenager, she moved out of the house and lived with her aunt down the road. Kids can be brutal with their name-calling and she wasn’t strong enough to stand up to them. The last Malachi had heard, she was some big-wig in Cleveland and had told folks back here to just let the old house rot to the ground. It made Malachi sad to think that so many people were horribly misunderstood in Rogue’s Hollow. As his mind wandered, he wondered what folks actually thought of him.
Travis and Malachi had devised a plan, on paper anyway. It was up to Travis to implement the details and pull it all together. Over grilled cheese sandwiches and bowls of spicy chili, he could hardly contain himself as the two conjured up ways to scare the teenagers.
Malachi knew that old house inside and out. He also knew about the hidden doorways that adjoined many of the rooms and the secret passage in the kitchen that led outside to an old fruit cellar in the back yard.
As darkness began to creep across the sky, the pair drove over to Miss Renay’s and set the stage for the big show that night. This was old hat to Malachi, but it was exciting and new to Travis. He giggled like an anxious little kid with every prank they prepared.
When everything was in place, they headed back to the mill, waiting for darkness to consume Rogue’s Hollow. As hard as Malachi tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes open past eleven. He dozed off in his recliner as soon as Travis left, trekking off to the haunting site.
Travis’s nerves were tested as he wandered through the woods with nothing but a small flashlight. Forest noises at night could bristle the hairs on a tough guy’s neck and Travis didn’t claim to be tough in any way. He continuously looked back over his shoulder, certain that he’d heard footsteps creeping up behind him.
