Rogue's Hollow

by Jan Tilley

  Malachi turned and saw the bottle in his hand. He stammered on his words and tried to change the subject. “Mostly water, just to trick the travelers. Do you want to tally up the cash box or sweep?”

  Travis wasn’t buying into it. “Your shoulder’s been bothering you, so I’ll sweep, but only if you’ll tell me the truth about the angel blessing.”

  Malachi came around to the back of the counter, took out his reading glasses and opened the money box. “Shoo now, off with you… get to work.”

  Travis stood his ground. “No secrets, no lies, right Malachi?”

  Malachi tried to continue counting out loud to distract the boy’s attention. It didn’t work. He looked over the rim of his glasses and saw Travis waiting patiently with his arms crossed, refusing to move until he got an answer. He sighed and laid the bills back inside the box. “Sometimes I hate this honesty pact we have. Okay, you got me. It’s Angel’s Trumpet. But, just a touch. Not enough to actually hurt anyone.”

  Travis laughed. “Seriously, dude? You’re getting people high with the amulets?”

  “I’m not doing it, they do it to themselves.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “Travis, I know I shouldn’t, but it works. I just put a drop or two on the amulet. If they get scared they take out the amulet and rub it for protection. A miniscule amount of the plant resin rubs off onto their skin and seeps into their bloodstream. The effects are very minimal, but they still see and hear things that aren’t really there. It adds to the fright.” Malachi picked up the bills and said, “You see, it’s a win win situation for us all.”

  Travis shook his head with a big grin on his face. “You sly fox. You never cease to amaze me, Malachi. What else don’t I know about you?”

  “The fact that I’m dog tired and you’re standing here wasting my nap time chit-chatting when you could be pushing that broom around.”

  Travis nodded and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get it done. No worries, Stumpy.”

  Malachi couldn’t help but smile as Travis walked away. It was nice to have someone to tell his secrets to. Someone that he knew would carry on the traditions that he’d worked his entire life to protect. It really did feel like he finally had his son back.

  Nineteen

  Winter came on fast and furious. Malachi always hated the wintertime. It was dark and lonely at the old mill. No tourists came to the store and with the exception of Roberta and Baxter, no one came to visit. But this winter was different.

  Malachi had Travis now and he’d settled into a pleasant routine. Up at six-thirty, he made some breakfast and got Travis up for school. For the first time in his life, Travis was on the honor roll. It didn’t come easy or natural to him. He studied every night and worked really hard to keep his grades up.

  Travis had actually gained some recognition at school and took great pride in his accomplishments. He felt like a much different person than the old Travis and kept his eye on the prize. Graduation was just over the horizon. And then he could be the full-time, co-proprietor of the Old Mill General Store in Rogue’s Hollow. He couldn’t wait. As hard as he tried to do well in school, he still didn’t like it. High school was nothing more than a gossip fest and he grew increasingly tired of the other kids’ immaturity. He was more than ready to move on to the next phase of his life.

  When Travis left for school, Malachi would tinker with little things that needed done around the mill during the day, such as a fresh coat of paint on the interior window sills, tightening old door knobs, and whatever else he could find to keep himself occupied.

  The only exception was the day when a new National Geographic magazine would arrive on his doorstep. On those rare days, all activity came to a grinding halt as he sat for hours, studying the beautiful pictures and stories from cover to cover, sometimes reading it two or three times. He would pause and go to his world atlas that hung on the wall with thumb tacks. Squinting through his glasses, he would painstakingly discover every place that they traveled in the magazine.

  Occasionally, Malachi got a bit stir crazy from being stuck at the old mill every day. Today was one of those days. It amazed him how exciting a simple trip to the grocery store could be when you’re extremely bored. Travis usually drove them to Doylestown, but on this occasion they went into Canal Fulton instead.

  As they meandered up and down the aisles, Malachi took his sweet time reading the labels. He enjoyed getting out of the hollow and wanted to kill some time. Travis was getting agitated, but held his tongue. He tried to imagine what it was like for Malachi, stuck out at that old mill, day in and day out. Even though the grocery store was a terrible bore to him, he patiently waited and allowed Malachi time to enjoy the break from his boring routine.

  While he was waiting in the baking aisle, Travis closed his eyes and took in the smell of the freshly baked bread. With a sigh, he imagined melting butter and fresh strawberry jam oozing down the sides of the steaming warm bread. He was snapped back to reality when a firm hand rested on his left shoulder. A deep voice followed, “Hello, son.”

  Spinning around quickly, Travis reared away from the large man with pockmark scars on his face and crooked rotting teeth.

  “How have you been, Travis?”

  Travis stood in shock. He had no words for the man. A look of fear and panic sunk deep into his face.

  Malachi watched the interaction closely, unsure who the man was. He could see how uncomfortable Travis was and decided to step in when his young friend began to nervously stare at the floor.

  His heart raced as he decided to introduce himself. “Hello, I’m Malachi Chidester. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “Malachi, nice to meet you. I’m Travis’s father, Doug.”

  Travis avoided eye contact with him and timidly asked, “When did you get out?”

  “About a month ago. I’ve been asking around for you. People said you were livin’ in another town, but no one knew where for sure. I didn’t know if I would recognize you, but I just knew it was you, son.”

  Travis nodded and continued to stare at the ground. “I live with Malachi now.”

  Doug looked at Malachi and crossed his arms across his wide chest in a judgmental stance. “Interesting. And just where is that?”

  Malachi chimed in, “It was nice to meet you, Doug. We’re in a bit of a rush and really must be going. Have a good day.”

  Doug bristled, “I would like to talk to my son, if you don’t mind.”

  Malachi stood between the two men and glared at Doug. “I don’t believe Travis has anything to say to you. Leave him alone, do you understand me?”

  “Who the hell do you think you are old man? That’s my son. I have every right to talk to him, whenever the hell I please.”

  “He’s eighteen. You have no rights to him and don’t ever insinuate otherwise.”

  Doug leaned in and smirked. “Big talk for such an old shit. He’s my son and I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”

  Malachi leaned in even closer, completely unaffected by his threats. “Listen to me very carefully you sorry piece of scum. Travis is a better man at eighteen years old than you’ll ever be. He’s making something of his life. All you’ve made of yours is a mess. Now go and lay in it and leave him alone!”

  Doug pointed a finger at Malachi. “Don’t fuck with me, old man.”

  Malachi grabbed Travis’s shirt sleeve and ushered him forward. “Come on, son. It’s time we be going now.”

  Travis pushed the cart, never making eye contact with his father.

  Doug yelled at them as they walked away. “He’s not your son, old man. This isn’t over. It’s far from over.”

  Malachi paid the bill and they hurried to Rosie, who was patiently waiting for them outside. “Come on, Travis. Let’s go quickly.” They tossed the bags into the truck bed and sped off out of town.

  Travis sat in the passenger seat staring blankly out the window. He was nervously shaking his leg and playing with his tongue piercing.
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br />   Malachi tried to reassure him. “Shake it off, son. Don’t let him get inside your head. He’s like a cancer. The only way to get rid of it is to completely cut it out of your life. And you must do that. He isn’t a part of your life anymore, Travis. Don’t give him any power over you.”

  Travis nodded and continued to stare out the window.

  Malachi pulled Rosie over into a parking lot and stopped. “Travis, look at me.”

  Travis looked over, hesitantly.

  “Look at me, son.”

  Travis looked into Malachi’s eyes. He saw a friend, someone he could trust. “I’m scared,” he said as his lower lip began to quiver.

  “Me too, but we’re in this together. He is a wicked man and he is not a part of our lives. You have made your own life, Travis. Don’t allow him back into it. He will ruin everything. It’s up to you to force him out. You’re eighteen. You’re a man. He has no rights over you. Now is the time when we must stand strong against evil. He is evil. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Travis nodded as a tear fell on his cheek. “I will. I’ll try really hard to be strong.”

  As hard as Travis tried, he couldn’t get Doug out of his mind. The nightmares were back. The memories of life with that monster plagued his dreams. He began to fear the dark again and look over his shoulder constantly. He knew that wasn’t the last they’d seen of him and that he’d be back. Doug never gave up that easy or took no for an answer. The memories of the abuse trickled into his every thought. He became so fearful that he could barely function.

  With his heart racing, he drove to school every day, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Doug would be there waiting for him. Travis wasn’t sure what he’d do or how he would react to seeing him again. He felt like a scared little boy, powerless over Doug’s control and his rage.

  Malachi tried to calm his fears. He took Travis out into the woods for target practice. They practiced every day after school. Once Malachi was assured that Travis was a confident shooter, he placed a handgun under the front counter and one in a bureau drawer in the living room. If Doug did show up at the mill, they’d be ready for him.

  Travis tried to keep busy at the store to take his mind off Doug. One night, after he’d finished his homework, he wandered into the store looking for a chore to tackle. He decided to reorganize the cluttered mess under the front counter. As he sorted through a stack of papers, he accidentally knocked over the bottle of angel blessing. It toppled over and spilled all over the floor. Travis cursed and desperately tried to clean it up. Picking up the soggy flower petals from the mess, a small amount of the liquid got on his hands. Malachi heard the crash and rushed in to see what had happened.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m such a damn klutz.”

  “It’s all good, son. I can make some more. We needed a fresh batch anyway for the spring tourist season. This bottle was getting old.”

  Travis thought for a moment and then replied, “Will you teach me how to make it?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll work on it this weekend. Now, go wash your hands.” Malachi was excited that Travis wanted to learn another tradition at the mill.

  Travis nodded and left the room. He went into the restroom and ran water over one of his hands, but curiosity took over. He wanted to see what it felt like so he allowed the solution to remain on his other hand. It wasn’t long before the buzz began to kick in. Travis grew increasingly calmer and for a while he forgot all about Doug. He didn’t have any hallucinations, just a nice comfortable high. Sleep that night was peaceful and for the first time in over a week, he wasn’t plagued by nightmares. He felt relaxed and almost invigorated the next morning.

  By the time the weekend got there, he couldn’t wait to get a little more resin on his fingers. It almost felt like a magic potion. He pestered Malachi all morning, anxious to make up a fresh batch.

  They worked together and plucked the largest blossoms from the plant, ones that were full of nectar, and placed them into a new glass jar. Malachi then topped off the jar with water from an old sulfur well behind the mill. Malachi placed the bottle into a pan of gently boiling water on the stove and allowed the concoction to slowly steep for about thirty minutes. It smelled horrible. But eventually the sulfur smell dissipated and the liquid from the flowers seeped into the water, turning it a lovely purple color. Malachi held it up to the light with an oven mitt and proclaimed, “It’s done. See that lovely color? You must give it time. It’ll let you know when it’s ready. That beautiful lavender color is unmistakable.”

  Carefully, he carried the bottle over and placed it on the window ledge in the sunlight. “We’ll let it cool, then it’ll be ready to go.”

  Travis smiled. “That’s it? That’s all you have to do?”

  “Yep, pretty simple, huh?”

  “Too simple. I can’t believe that just a few flowers will make up a whole jar.”

  “It’s some powerful stuff, Travis. This plant has had ages to perfect its potion. Plus, we don’t want to give folks too much, just a little taste.”

  “So, how much is too much? I don’t want to poison anyone.”

  “Just a drop or two is all that’s needed. Most of it soaks into the wood and leaves very little residual effects. But, that miniscule amount on the surface is all it takes.”

  Travis’s curiosity peaked. “Does everyone who touches it hallucinate?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ve done a little research on the plant at the library. It affects everyone differently. Some folks just feel mellow, but it really does get to some people though, mostly the smaller females. It doesn’t take as much to get into their system. Plus, they’re a little more skittish to start with.”

  “Is it addictive?”

  “If overused, folks might crave it, but I don’t think it’s considered addictive. We are definitely safe to apply it to the amulets, in small doses. But, then again look at Alexander, Ambrose, and Marcus. Who’s to say how much they were taking. Ambrose wrote in his journal that towards the end, they were even drinking it, full strength as a steeped tea. Can you imagine?”

  Travis shook his head, trying to act nonchalant. “No. I can’t.” But he could imagine it and secretly wondered what it would feel like.

  “Once it cools, we’ll cap it and then it’s ready for application.”

  “Just like that?”

  Malachi nodded. “Just like that. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

  His absurd sayings always entertained Travis and made him smile.

  The nightmares were bad that night. Travis was ready for another dose, just a small one, to ease his nerves a bit. When Malachi gave his approval, Travis gently carried the jar to the store and placed it carefully under the counter. As he knelt down, he opened the bottle and stuck his finger inside. He watched over his shoulder to make sure that Malachi couldn’t see him. Capping the bottle, he quickly stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked the juice off. Even though the sulfur still tasted nasty, he sucked off every bit of the residue. He nervously played with his tongue piercing as he waited. A grin began to creep across his face as it started to kick in.

  Travis had dabbled in drugs before and he’d swore that it was all behind him. Never again would he allow himself to be taken over by a substance. It was mostly marijuana that he’d messed with. It had made him feel weak, dependent on something and he despised that feeling. Although he did like the buzz it gave him. All his troubles seemed to drift away. But, then a whole new slew of troubles crept in. He didn’t want to go through that again.

  It was different this time. He had control over the angel blessing. It was just a plant, an all-natural beautiful flower. What harm could it cause? Yeah, Ambrose and Marcus got in trouble, but that’s because they didn’t know when to stop and they abused it. Travis knew that he could control his urges. All this crap going on with his dad, it was just too much. He needed a little something to calm his nerves and help him sleep at night. He was confident that he had complete control over the blessings.


  Twenty

  The winter months drug on for Malachi. It was so lonely all day at the mill by himself. He’d done it for so many years, lived out there in the boonies, all alone. There were times when he would go weeks, sometimes a whole month without seeing another living soul. But now he had company at the dinner table and a friend to converse with. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how he’d made it all those years in total isolation without going mad.

  Travis found himself dipping into the blessing bottle more and more as the dreary winter days stole what little sunshine he had in his life. When ‘the blessing’ would wear off, he’d find himself looking over his shoulder and waiting anxiously for Doug to show up. The pain and torture that man caused ate at his soul. He felt corroded on the inside from the evil that Doug instilled in him. For years now, he thought that he was over all that. But, as hard as he tried to shake it off, it gnawed at him and seemed to eat him from the inside out.

  When Travis went to town, it was only to go to school and then come straight home. If they needed supplies, they’d go the opposite direction, over to Doylestown and avoid Canal Fulton for anything but school. Neither of them wanted to take the chance of running into Doug. That was one person that they both were content living out the rest of their lives without ever seeing again.

  Travis whole-heartedly believed that ‘the blessings’ were helping him sleep better. He still dreamt, but it was never about Doug or the torture he inflicted on his family. Instead the ‘blessing dreams’ took him away to a make-believe place when he could forget about all the troubles from his real world. There was always a smile on his face when he awoke, which soon faded as reality kicked in.

  Malachi was so good to him, but he still felt a dark cloud following him everywhere he went. It took everything he had to focus on his grades and try to make it to graduation. Living at the mill with Malachi was the easiest life that Travis had ever known, but for some reason he still felt an incredible amount of stress.