Rogue's Hollow

by Jan Tilley

  Life took an easy turn that night. Travis was calm and friendly. The duo ate homemade ice cream sundaes and Travis even sat through an old episode of the Lawrence Welk Show with Malachi. It pained Travis, but he did it anyway. He felt that he could get through anything with the help of ‘the blessings.’

  Travis kept up his end of the deal and emptied the sap buckets every day after school. He actually seemed to enjoy the chore. As the week wore on, Malachi dreaded having to break the news to Travis, but eventually, over dinner that night he did it. “Son, I think our time is about over.”

  Travis slurped his spaghetti with a frown. Wiping his mouth, he replied, “I don’t understand. What’s over?”

  “The syrup. I see that the trees are getting ready to bud out. The sap will taste bad as soon as that happens. I think this should be our last week to make syrup.”

  Travis let out a big sigh and took a gulp of his Coke. The carbonated drink forced him to burp.

  Malachi looked up from his plate and glared at him.

  He knew what that meant. Frowning, he said, “Excuse me.” The news made him incredibly sad. “Can’t we go a little while longer?”

  Malachi shook his head. “As tempting as it is, we can’t do it. We have to know when to stop or we’ll be known as the bitter brothers.” He chuckled at his own joke and smiled. “Get it, bitter brothers. Because of the bitter syrup.”

  Travis nodded and held his straight face. “Yeah, I get it. I just don’t want to stop.”

  Malachi sat back, picked up his napkin with his stumpy finger and wiped his mouth. “It is fun. But, now we’ll have next season to look forward to. The anticipation is half of the excitement, isn’t it?”

  “I guess, but it’s just not the same. I’ve gotten used to this new routine and I really like it.”

  Malachi smiled. “You’re really good at it, too. I’m so proud of you. You boil that sap like a pro, son. We’re well stocked and after we finish up this weekend, we should have plenty to get us through the year.”

  “Can we boil for one more weekend?”

  “Sure. You can still gather the sap for a few more days. That will give us plenty to work on this weekend. But it’s gonna be stressful because surely the store will be getting busy.”

  Travis piped in. “I’ll plan on staying at the shack and you can tend to the customers, if that’s okay with you?”

  Malachi nodded. “Sure. That’d be just fine with me. We can trade off if you’d like to?”

  Travis shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Actually, I like it out there and I don’t mind being by myself.”

  “Okay, then. You get the shack, and I’ll mind the store.”

  Twenty-Three

  Saturday morning, Travis was up at the crack of dawn, gathering his supplies and heading off into the woods. Malachi tried to get him to eat some breakfast but he just grabbed a granola bar and a juice. “Here, at least take this lunchbox with you, Travis. I made you a sandwich and some snacks. You’ll get hungry up there alone all day. And please drink lots of water. Don’t get dehydrated.”

  He nodded. “Thanks. That’ll help. I’m looking forward to spending the day out there with nature. I really like it.”

  “Will you plan on cooling off the pot early enough so that you can be home by sunset? That’s a treacherous hill to drive the tractor down in the dark. Believe me, I know from my own personal failures.”

  Travis nodded and replied, “Sure thing, Stumpy.” He winked at Malachi, grabbed the lunchbox off the counter and headed out the door.

  Malachi shook his head and snickered, “Smart aleck kid.” Travis had a unique way of touching his heart, the way only a son could do.

  The store was busy all day, so busy that Malachi barely had time to take a break. When he did have a chance to catch his breath, he would wonder how Travis was getting along out there all alone at the sugar shack.

  Around mid-afternoon, a slew of customers came into the store. It was buzzing. Malachi tried to keep up with them and answer their questions, but it was overwhelming at times. At one point, there were several people all gathered around, inquiring about the syrup. They were quite impressed when they heard that it was collected and prepared right here in the hollow.

  As Malachi answered their questions about the process of making syrup from raw sap, he noticed a man wearing a ball cap and sunglasses. He was mixed in with the group, but yet hovering alone in the background. The man listened intently but never seemed to interact with anyone.

  It always raised Malachi’s suspicion when a person wore sunglasses indoors. Not only did it appear incredibly rude, but there must be something that they were obviously trying to hide. Were they drunk or high, or maybe they were missing an eye. That would be a shocking look. Momentarily, he wondered which group the man was with, but quickly became distracted by more questions about the syrup.

  Malachi made a point to try and greet or at least speak to every single person who came into the store, but this fellow left fairly quickly without purchasing anything. Malachi didn’t actually remember seeing him leave. He must have flowed out with the crowd when he wasn’t looking.

  It was hours later when it finally hit Malachi. Even though he’d put the man out of his mind, there was an unsettled feeling about the incident. His stomach did a somersault, followed by a wave of queasiness that shook his entire body. He’d finally put his finger on it; the lurking man was Travis’s father, Doug. Malachi talked to himself and kept saying, “Oh my, this isn’t good,” over and over again. What had he wanted? It was obvious that he was trying to camouflage himself and it had worked. Malachi had to assume that he was here looking for Travis. It made him anxious that Doug had figured out where Travis was living.

  He thought about it for the rest of the afternoon. Should he tell Travis that Doug had been there? Travis deserved to know. They would have to be very careful and watch their backs. “Better safe than sorry,” Malachi said to himself as he picked up the phone. He took a business card from his wallet and dialed the phone number it displayed.

  “Canal Fulton P.D. How can I direct your call?”

  “May I please speak with Officer Fischer?”

  An overworked sounding dispatch operator replied, “Officer Fischer is off duty today. Is this an emergency?”

  Malachi thought for a moment. “No. I wouldn’t say that this constitutes an emergency.”

  “I can give Officer Fischer a message and ask him to call you when he returns tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

  “That would be fine. Thanks for your time.” Malachi gave the operator his information, hung up the phone and shook his head, talking to himself. “Quit worrying, old man. Maybe he was just passing through and doesn’t even know that Travis is here at all.” But, as hard as he tried to calm his thoughts, his mind still ran wild and an uneasy feeling settled in. It was his duty to protect Travis now.

  The sun was setting low in the sky as Malachi began closing the store. The last straggler finally left and he anxiously turned the sign to ‘Closed.’ It began to grow dark and Malachi’s mind raced, worrying why Travis wasn’t home yet. He said that he’d be home by dark. Maybe there was some problem with the syrup that had held him up. Malachi just wanted him home, to know that he was safe and sound.

  Travis had the tractor at the shack to load the bottles and bring them back to the store. As the crimson sky turned to blackness, Malachi began to panic. He decided to hike up the steep hill on foot and check on him. He grabbed a flashlight and slowly made his way through the darkening woods.

  As he neared the shack he could see that there wasn’t any smoke billowing from the stack. Maybe Travis was done and just loading up the bottles. The closer he got he saw that the door was hanging wide open. He poked his head inside. The fire had burned out but there was still a full cauldron of syrup waiting to be bottled up.

  He stepped back outside and looked around. Maybe Travis went off into the woods to use Mother Nature’s restroom. He cupped his hands in front of
his mouth and yelled, “Travis!” There was no answer. He began to worry about his friend. Why would he have gone off and left the syrup unattended?

  Malachi grabbed a branch which he could use as a walking stick and began to trek off along the ridge looking for him. Malachi stumbled across the uneven ground searching for a clue as to where Travis had gone. His flashlight began to flicker. “Dang it! Perfect time for my batteries to peter out on me.” He whacked it against his hand and the dim light came back on.

  Malachi could see his breath in the mist as he stood still in the crisp spring air trying to decide which way to head next. Cocking his head, he thought that he heard a voice off in the distance. He turned in the direction of the sound, held his breath and listened intently. It sounded like Travis. He began to head down a narrow foot path through the woods.

  Struggling through the brambles and darkened tree branches, he forced his way in the direction of the voice. The sound was getting louder as Malachi forged ahead, eventually making his way to a small clearing.

  He scanned the area with his dim flashlight beam. Usually, he was very good with directions, but for some reason he was turned around and didn’t know exactly where he was. He’d spent his entire life on Silver Creek Ridge but now, for the first time, he felt completely lost. Craning his neck, he still heard someone talking. Slowly, he walked forward following the sound. As he squinted his aging eyes, a shape began to appear off in the distance. He was still unable to tell for sure if it was Travis. He didn’t want to take a chance and walk up on a stranger out here.

  As he inched closer, his flashlight went out on him again. He banged it against his open palm, but it was no use. Luckily, the ridge was lit up pretty well on this particular night by an eerie full moon. It took him a few minutes to get his night vision, but when his eyes adjusted, he was surprised how well he could see into the darkness.

  He was getting closer to the voice. At first Malachi thought it was Travis, but the nearer he got, it sounded different. He walked slowly and cautiously in the direction of the sound. There in the distance, he could barely make out a faint shape. The figure was still talking and walking around in circles, flailing its arms around, deep in conversation.

  “Travis, is that you?” Malachi said with nervous hesitation.

  The figure’s arms fell to his side and he stood frozen with his back to Malachi. As his heart started to race, he watched as the man slowly began to pivot and turn towards him. Facing the figure in the darkness, he inched closer and was grateful to see that it was Travis.

  “Malachi, what are you doing here?” He spoke calmly in a monotone voice.

  “Travis? I was going to ask you the same thing.” Malachi banged on his flashlight until a faint beam illuminated Travis’s face. He barely recognized him. There was a wild look in his eyes, his hair was standing up everywhere and there was black coal soot smeared on his cheeks. “Are you okay, son? Why aren’t you at the shack?”

  Travis turned completely around and faced Malachi. “I had some other business to tend to.”

  “What other business? I thought you were tending to the syrup.”

  Malachi shined the faint beam from his flashlight around, searching for what could have taken Travis away from the shack. Travis stepped aside and Malachi’s light came to rest on the huge rock lurking behind Travis. Hesitantly, he asked, “Is this the mine shaft opening?”

  “Yes, it certainly is.” Travis began to slowly pace around Malachi with his hands folded in front of him. “Are you aware that they buried Ambrose and Marcus alive in this mine shaft?”

  “Yes, of course. We read that in The Book of Truth. Why do you ask?”

  “Do you know how long it takes a person to starve to death, Malachi?”

  “A week or two maybe, but the dehydration is probably what killed them.”

  Travis held out his hands, palms up and said, “How vain of us to think badly of them when they were actually the victims here.”

  Malachi snapped. “They were murderers, plain and simple. And they’re long gone and dead now. I say good riddance to them.”

  Travis stopped pacing and shook his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, making a disapproving sound. “They might be dead, but they’re very much still with us.”

  “Poppycock!”

  Travis stood in front of Malachi and furrowed his brow. “Maybe you’re not enlightened enough to hear them, but they speak to me.”

  Malachi grew uncomfortable with the conversation. “Do they now? And just what do they say when they speak to you?”

  Travis’s eyes pierced into Malachi when he spoke. “They tell me all their darkest secrets, the things that you neglected to share.”

  Malachi took a deep breath and tried to figure out where to go with this discussion. He had never seen Travis like this before. “Son, I think it’s time we head on home.”

  Travis began to get agitated. “I’m not done here yet! You interrupted our conversation. Why don’t you head on home and I’ll see you back there in a bit.”

  “I’m not leaving without you, son.”

  “Well then you’ll just have to wait.” He turned his attention back to the rock and began mumbling something that Malachi couldn’t make out.

  He stood by quietly, trying to make out what Travis was saying, but it just sounded like gibberish. Finally he reached a breaking point and chimed in. “Travis, that’s enough. It’s time to go now. I insist.”

  Travis stood determined with his back to Malachi. “So, they tell me that you have a little secret of your own, Malachi.”

  “I have no secrets from you, Travis. You know that. This is crazy talk.” He grabbed Travis’s arm and tugged at him firmly. “It’s time to go, now!”

  Travis pulled his arm away and angrily replied, “Then why don’t you tell me about Maggie?”

  “What about her. She was killed in a house fire. You know that. It’s no secret. Come on, please, son. Let’s go home.”

  Travis slowly turned around facing Malachi. “Okay then, tell me about Mikey Sampson.”

  Malachi stepped backwards with a look of pure shock. His eyes searched Travis’s face for answers, but he was met with a cold blank stare. “What about him?”

  Travis’s eyes grew wide and he began to grin. “You tell me, Malachi.”

  Stammering on his words, he replied, “He’s the kid that started the fire that took my friend Maggie’s life.”

  “And why don’t you tell me what happened to little Mikey?”

  Malachi skirted the question. “This is nonsense. It’s dark and cold and I want to go home.” Nervously, he banged repeatedly on his flashlight trying to make it work.

  Travis snapped at him, which made Malachi jump. “Tell me the truth, damn it!”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Pacing around him, Travis continued, “That’s okay. You don’t have to say a word. They told me all about it.”

  Malachi turned and watched him pace in circles. “Told you what?” He assured himself that there was no way anyone possibly knew what happened to Mikey.

  Travis stopped directly in front of Malachi and stared into his eyes. “They told me that you killed him.”

  Malachi took a step back and bristled. “I most certainly did not!”

  “Oh wait, you’re right. My mistake. You just helped cover it up, your grandpa was actually the one who killed him.”

  Malachi could feel his heart pounding as he swallowed hard. How could Travis have known that? Malachi and his granddad were the only two people who knew what happened to Mikey that night. They both swore to never tell a living soul what had happened and they’d both kept their word. He reared back, closely inspecting Travis’s face. “How do you know about that?”

  Travis smiled. “Because they told me. They said that you were keeping secrets from me and that I shouldn’t trust you. I guess they were right after all.”

  Malachi extended his hand to touch Travis and he pulled away. “That’s not
true, son. I promised that I would never lie to you and I have kept my word. That was a long time ago and it bears no purpose to speak of it now. I swore to my granddad that I would never tell another soul what happened.”

  Travis crossed his arms over his chest, cocked his head and glared at him. “And all this time, I felt bad about what I had done. Turns out that you’re no better than I am.”

  Malachi hung his head. “I’m not a bad person, Travis.”

  “And neither am I.”

  “I never implied that you were. I tried to help you through all your troubles. I never condemned you.”

  Travis placed his hands on Malachi’s shoulders and looked at him with consoling eyes. “I appreciate you so much for being there for me. I really do. But now, I need you to tell me what happened to Mikey.”

  Malachi looked at Travis and began to break down. “It was an accident. Granddad and I were working at the sugar shack when Mikey showed up out of nowhere. He started bragging about smoking behind Maggie’s house and starting the fire. He said that he didn’t mean to, but then he laughed about it and said that she deserved it because she wouldn’t give him a kiss. Granddad sent me to get more wood. I went outside and when I came back in, Mikey was on the floor. Granddad said it was an accident. That he turned real fast with the boiling paddle and hit him in the head with it. He didn’t mean to do it and I believed him.”

  Grabbing a handkerchief from his back pocket, Malachi wiped his nose and tried to catch the tears that began trickling down his cheeks. “There was blood, so much blood. Granddad told me that people like that always got what was coming to them. They didn’t deserve to be around us good folks.

  “Maggie was my friend, my best friend. Mikey was just the hollow bully. No one liked him. But I didn’t want him to die.” Wiping his eyes he tried to explain himself. “Granddad told me that it was Mikey who killed Maggie. He was sorry that the boy got hurt, but it was just a horrible accident. We drug the body outside and watched as he squirmed for a few moments and then he lay perfectly still. Granddad said that he was gone and that there was nothing we could do about it. That’s when he told me about the Angel’s Trumpet and the history of our ancestors.