by Aiden James
Ruth offered to take Jillian on a tour of the old house, but she declined. David assumed it had nothing to do with a lack of curiosity, as more likely either deference to Ruth’s arthritic condition or an instinctive aversion to the general spookiness, accentuated by dark oak paneling throughout the house.
“Let me get that for you, Auntie,” he offered, when the teapot and tray lay empty.
At first reluctant to accept his offer, which he understood was rooted in her strict upbringing as a southern hostess, she allowed him to take the items into the kitchen. When he returned, the three females were engaged in a lively discussion. He sat down this time next to Jillian, content to listen to their girlish banter about the similarities between their upbringings, despite a span of three generations in different American regions. It brought a pang of guilt when time came to gather his wife and kids to resume their trip to Chattanooga’s airport.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take these up to your room for you, Auntie?” he asked for the third time, when she declined both his and Tyler’s offer to take her suitcases upstairs. He’d even tried to sneak Tyler past her with the heavier suitcase, but she blocked him with the walking cane she used when inside the house.
“Yes. Just leave them here in the foyer. I want to go through a few things I brought home from Denver and Gatlinburg first,” she explained, motioning to both suitcases. “It’ll work out better that way.”
David nodded, and then the kids each gave her a warm hug.
“I really wish our time together wouldn’t have been so… ‘eventful’,” said Miriam, her eyes tearing up. Ruth nodded in agreement, forcing a warm smile through her own tears. “We will make up for this, and soon.”
“Let’s not go so long without seeing each other,” added Ruth, and then reached out for her.
The two women held each other tight, both seemingly reluctant to be the first to let go.
Ruth motioned to David to come nearer, and when he did, Miriam stepped back from her, dabbing at her eyes with her coat sleeve.
“Auntie… I’m so glad things are different between us now,” he told her, feeling overwhelmed by several emotions, most good, though regret for past grudges still hovered nearby. “We’ll do this again.”
“Yes.”
That’s all she could muster, her voice choked with emotion. He held her, ever the strong and stoic one, while her shoulders shook. Miriam drew close again, her loving arms draped around them both, followed by the kids.
The old saying, ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’ always made him wonder. What the hell does that really mean anyway? It certainly could never apply to a moment like this.
Just sorrow. Nothing sweet about it.
And a sense of wrong that could be right, if a different choice, or path, taken.
After loading the Voyager and pulling out of the driveway, David couldn’t shake the feeling another terrible mistake had just been made.
***
After regaining consciousness in his hospital bed, John accepted David’s invitation to come to Denver in the spring, during the kids’ school break in early April. The blow to the back of his head and shoulders required nearly thirty stitches to close, but all in all, his doctor told David and Evelyn that he would fully recover, and be released in a day or two. She also planned to come along in spring after Miriam’s invitation, to keep a protective eye on her grandfather. It just depended on Hanna’s health, since the trauma she suffered while imprisoned by Teutates would linger for awhile…possibly years.
The specialists they talked to at St. Joseph’s hospital in Knoxville were cautiously optimistic for a full recovery after Hanna’s memory improved last night. Badly dehydrated and malnourished, her vital signs continued to strengthen as well. The last thing Evelyn heard from the medical staff was they would release her sister soon after John, if no setbacks.
As for what happened in Cades Cove, no one talked about it. Other than helping Butch and the Knoxville detectives complete the necessary paperwork, there wasn’t a single mention of Teutates and his murdered victims. Better, in this case, to let sleeping dogs lie undisturbed. Especially true after the five survivors witnessed the demon’s physical demise, its burning corpse smoldering near the blood-drenched altar, only to be attacked again by the entity in its preferred form.
David knew in his heart that he’d never forget the yellow eyes glaring from within an immense ink-like shadow hovering behind John when the lawmen opened fire on it. The collapse of the temple, or whatever the structure was, immediately followed. John later told him from his hospital bed what the temple originally looked like when he and Butch arrived yesterday morning, which was a far cry from the huge pile of rubble now sitting in the middle of the ravine. David recalled how even the cops lamented about not having a camera handy to capture a photograph after the dust settled, as proof of the immense glistening structure before its destruction.
After he and Butch rescued John and the deputy named Chris assisted Evelyn in helping Hanna and Miriam escape the deep chasm that opened up in the earth, the detectives and the lone trooper helped carry everyone out of the ravine, using the available snowmobiles and an all-terrain truck that made it to the ravine after Butch called for backup help. In the midst of destroyed scaffolds and walkways set up by UT’s archaeology department in November, Teutates’ temple that had lain hidden beneath the ravine for untold centuries would again be nothing more than a rumor, if that.
But prior experience told David that the demon’s fury was likely far from over, it’s lust for vengeance still unsatisfied—made worse by how its re-emergence ended. Not talking about it wouldn’t keep the thing from coming back again someday….
“Hon, you can go now. The light’s green.”
Miriam’s tone as gentle as her touch, she brushed her fingers against the back of his white-knuckled hands that gripped the minivan’s steering wheel. He hadn’t moved for nearly a minute, drawing not only her attention but the kids’ as well. Not quite a quarter mile away from his ancestral home in Chattanooga, the house he grew up in and that now belonged solely to Ruth Gaurni’er.
David’s eyes blurred and his shoulders began to heave, growing more and more volatile until all at once a terrible cry erupted from his throat. He sobbed uncontrollably and Miriam threw her arms around him, pausing only to look in the rearview mirror, to make sure that any other automobiles could maneuver safely around the minivan.
After that another blur… his wife insisted on him exchanging seats with her and then drove back up the street. The hands of his three children comforted him, massaging his sore shoulders…back up the driveway, where Miriam parked.
He insisted on going up the steps alone. Ruth answered, and for the first time in years he told her he loved her. Loved her all this time. A love regrettably buried under bitterness and unresolved anger.
David wasn’t sure how the words came out, but his aunt understood…and accepted. They embraced, holding each other tight…tears flowed freely from both. She hadn’t even begun to unpack—her long winter coat draped over the suitcases. Ready to go…to leave the only home she’d ever known.
Once back inside the minivan, a joyful cry erupted. The kids pleased, Miriam too. Aunt Ruth would extend her stay in Colorado after all. Possibly permanent, her nephew and his lovely wife assured her they would take care of any loose ends surrounding a move into the other upstairs guestroom on LeClair Drive in Littleton, including the sale of one modest craftsman located in southern Tennessee.
One haunted modest craftsman, that is.
***
He watched them leave. All the way down the street. Then, certain the driver of the maroon minivan wouldn’t be coming back a third time, he closed the sheers in the upstairs bedroom. His granddaughter’s room.
Time to change things, after so many years. It would be his room again…the one he died in. His house. He’d fix it up to suit just him and the cocker spaniel he heard rummaging around downstairs.
Bi
lly Ray Hobson smiled. He turned away from the window and moved slowly through the bedroom, adjusting his tan fedora to hide his glowering eyes while his heavy boots caused noticeable creaks in the upstairs floorboards.
Time to go downstairs and teach that damned little dog a new trick.
Chapter Forty-one
Under a full moon, the Harvest Moon since the first one in October, a pair of hydro-electric sport vehicles traveled along an old dirt road, overgrown with dying grass and weeds. Several hours after curfew, the Great Smoky National Park sat deserted. The meadow facing the John Oliver Cabin seemed especially eerie under the moon’s bright glow. Perhaps coasting with the headlights off, moving past two police patrol cars near Cades Cove’s entrance, also had something to do with that.
We’re unwelcome?
“I think the old ravine is up ahead!” Jason Pierce called back to the other vehicle, a modern SUV by Honda.
The Jeep convertible he drove led the way. His deep brown eyes danced mischievously, and his boyish smile further confirmed his impishness.
Who gives a flying fuck if we’re welcome or not? At least this should be interesting…let’s see if Polly and Ed freak out once they see the place where all those people died!
“Sh-h-h-h!! Not so loud, ya’ll!” hissed Stevie O’Guin in response. He shot him a bird and pointed toward the empty road behind them. “Just in case those bastards decided to follow us, man!”
He dimmed the headlights, though not as much as earlier, when they were on the main road moving through the cove.
“Dude, frigging chill!” Jason responded, laughing. He and Stevie had been roommates for three years, and high school buddies before that, currently attending the University of Tennessee in nearby Knoxville on baseball scholarships. “And unless you want to fall into a ditch, I suggest you keep the lights on until we’ve parked.”
Four couples. Jason and Dianne Crowe, his steady girl since his sophomore year, sat in the front. Brunette and pretty, Dianne seemed to share his enthusiasm and intrigue in exploring a so-called ‘haunted ravine’, her green eyes sparkling in the dash’s illumination.
Shikara Khan and T.J. Wallace snuggled in the backseat. Always up for a good time, neither cared one way nor another about ghosts, haunted places, or anything else that dealt with the supernatural. A beautiful native of Pakistan, Shikara abandoned her Muslim tenets as a freshman, while T.J. adhered to just enough of his Southern Baptist roots to stay out of trouble with his parents, living in Jackson, Mississippi. Like Jason and Stevie, T.J. came to UT on an athletic scholarship, in his case football.
Inside the Honda, Stevie sat with his latest girl, Stefanie Torain, whose warm brown eyes and flawless ebony skin brought comparisons to Tara Banks, the model from yesteryear. A little on the heavy side, all Stevie cared about is the girl was a total freak—at least what he told Jason. Behind them sat the nerdy pair in the group. It took losing a bet on last week’s Homecoming game for Ed White to agree to do this, and Polly Chambers only agreed to come along since Dianne was her roommate, and wouldn’t give her a moment’s peace until she said yes. Both blue-eyed blonds repeated the mantra of ‘it’s not good to dabble with the devil’. But Jason knew better… two goddamned pussies afraid of their own shadows.
Hell, a good scare might help ‘em loosen up a bit, ya know?
A large ‘Keep Out!’ sign soon appeared in the Jeep headlights’ beam. The sign attached to a rusted barbwire fence extended beyond the halogen lamps’ reach.
Chris said it’d be like this, man. Dark and desolate… and ain’t nobody else around. He told me and Stevie right after the NFL draft that his dad and mom almost died out here a long time ago…. ‘Never saw him drunk like that, man, and the dude never talks…but he did that night. Some demon called Teutates wanted to kill his folks and their friends…the motherfucker already killed a cop and some other people—including an entire family.
“We’re here!” Jason announced, unfastening his seatbelt while Dianne did the same. Shikara and T.J. had already removed theirs once they drove across the meadow. “If you’ll grab the beer, T.J., I’ll get the wood for the fire.”
“Sure, man. I’ll get it!”
Meanwhile, the Honda parked right beside them. Stevie and Stefanie climbed out of the vehicle, their eyes trying to see into the thick darkness that shrouded the area beyond the fence.
“How can it be that dark in there when the moon is so bright?” Stefanie asked her man.
She looked up at the brightened sky above, and then back toward the darkness, thick and ink-like. Stevie shrugged his shoulders, the look on his face one of disinterest, like it wasn’t a big deal. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her near. An effective distraction for the question unanswered, she smiled and looked up into his face. He winked.
That’s where the ravine is, man! This ought to be fun…some real fun for a change! And maybe the girl ghost Chris told you and me about, Stevie, will be here. The one that got her face bashed in by some crazed rapist when this place was just a ‘lover’s lane’ long ago, and who walks around in a bloody blue gown… Do you remember the chick’s name, Stevie-boy?... Something like Alice or Allison….
Allie Mae.
For some reason, the instant the name appeared in Jason’s head a chill ran along the bottom of his spine, racing up its length before moving across his shoulders. He shivered.
Get a grip, man. You don’t want to end up like those weenie-lovers crawling out from the back of the Jeep, do you? We sure the fuck don’t want that to happen, right??
Once Ed and Polly picked up the cooler and brought it around to the front of the Jeep, Jason pulled a pair of wire cutters from inside his letter jacket. Directing Stevie to hold up one of the flashlights they brought, he cut through several wires before anyone else could react.
“What the hell did you do that for?” asked Ed, worriedly. The “Keep Out!” sign fell to the ground with a loud clang. “We could go to jail for the destruction of public property!”
“And who the hell is going to know, unless ya’ll tell ‘em?”
Cocky to a fault, Jason waited for another rebuke to come from the group. When it didn’t, he picked up the wood waiting at his feet and moved through the fence. Soon, everyone else joined him on a rock ledge at the top of the ravine. Now all the girls murmured about the surreal darkness before them, where for some reason the full moon’s rays couldn’t penetrate.
“This is really spooky,” Dianne whispered to Jason, pulling her coat tighter around her as if embraced by a deep chill.
Like the other guys, he paused to comfort her before getting started on a fire.
Everyone dressed in jeans and sweatshirts, most also wore some kind of jacket as well. Jason noticed that all of the other girls pulled their coats tighter. Hot natured, he noticed the temperature became a tad cooler once they moved through the fence.
The darkness seemed to lesson, allowing their flashlight beams enough penetration to see what was here. The rest of the fence formed a corral roughly the size of a football field. It really didn’t look like much of a ravine to him, as a grass covered hill with boulders and other debris sticking out of it rose up in front of them.
Another thing supporting Chris’s tale that night. Some sort of temple used to be here….
“Hey, let’s get a fire going.” He picked up several hickory logs and arranged them in the center of the ledge to where a quick blaze would be possible. “Once we get it going strong, we can crack open the beer and cook us a little feast.”
A slight breeze moved through the treetops, drawing everyone’s attention, the girls moving closer to their men and Dianne nudging him to hurry up. The fire became a roaring blaze, and to make sure it stayed that way, he and T.J. brought more wood—enough to last several hours. By then, the girls had set up blankets around the fire, to where they all could lounge comfortably. Plenty of beer to go around, and hotdogs and bratwurst ready to roast.
“This is sweet!” enthused T.J., his
smile radiant within his ebony skin.
“So fucking sweet, indeed!” echoed Stevie, leaning toward the fire with a hotdog skewered on a coat hanger.
His rich Irish heritage, a full head of red hair framing his freckled face and deep blue eyes, seemed enhanced by the fire’s glow.
“Good deal,” nodded Jason, glancing around him. The females and even Ed seemed pleased, or at least hungry, each with a hotdog or brat ready to roast. “After we’re done eating, it’ll be time for some exploring. The place is supposed to be haunted, so why not check and see if that’s true or not?”
“Haunted? You didn’t say anything about this place being haunted. No wonder it’s been giving me the creeps!”
At first, Stevie didn’t take his girlfriend’s anger seriously. But when Stefanie retreated to the edge of the fence after laying her uncooked hotdog down atop the cooler, he pursued her.
“Baby, come on!” he pleaded. “It’s just some story that Chris told me and Jason last spring. Just a story, like anything else. Boo!!”
He added a nervous laugh in trying to sell her on this.
“Chris? You mean Chris Hobbs??” she asked incredulous. “The football player?”
“Yeah, the quarterback-of-the-future for the Giants,” he agreed. “We all got drunk as hell and he told us a wild tale about this place. That’s all it is.”
Jason held his breath. If someone asked if big bad Chris ever came out here, he’d have to lie and say he did. Fearless in football games, especially when a critical victory was on the line, Chris refused to even consider the idea of coming out here.
