Callis Rose

by Mark Tufo

  Callis Rose

  Mark Tufo

  DevilDog Press

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by Mark Tufo

  Also From DevilDog Press

  Thank You

  Copyright © 2013 by Mark Tufo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  cover by Dane@ebooklaunch

  Created with Vellum

  To my wife...(I intentionally left this blank because there are no words that can express how much you mean to me.)

  To Katherine Coynor - Thank you for your hard work and your advice, no matter how bad I may react to it!

  To Paul Erickson - I always enjoy our many and varied topics of conversation. Thank you for your help with this book.

  To Joy Burke Buchanan - I definitely appreciate your introspection and insights on how to make this story that much better.

  Prologue

  My name is Callis Rose and I was six years old when I discovered I had a gi(curse)ft.

  Chapter 1

  “Mommy, that mean boy took my ball!” a crying waif of a girl wailed at her mother from across the playground.

  Mrs. Rose looked up to see the young hellion taunting her daughter. He sat atop the jungle gym, Callis’ red ball in his hands. He would lean over and show it to her, Callis would jump at it, getting frustratingly close before he would yank it up from her outstretched grasp.

  The boy, she thought his name was Jimmy Danners, had been bullying her daughter in one form or another for the last week; sometimes just an innocuous shove when no one was looking, or getting on the swing Callis wanted just so she couldn’t use it. But now she was fed up. If Jimmy’s fat bitch of a mother wasn’t go to say anything…then she was.

  She had no sooner stood up to give the boy a stern talking to when he did something completely unexpected. His body went rigid and she watched in horrifying slow motion as he teetered to the side and fell over, never bracing for the fall as he struck the ground. The crack of breaking bone was unmistakable in the crisp dawn air of Colorado in the fall. The ball rolled out of his hands where Callis merrily scooped it up and ran to go bounce it by the teeter totter.

  Jimmy’s screams of pain followed immediately after. Mrs. Rose thought it strange that she was at the boy’s side before his own mother, but the bitch was usually too busy avoiding the screams of Jimmy’s victims to realize that this time it was her own son doing the caterwauling.

  “What have you done!” Jimmy’s mother demanded as she got her immeasurable bulk up off the park bench and was hovering over her son’s prone form.

  “I can assure you nothing. I saw him fall and came over to help,” Mrs. Rose said, taking note that Jimmy’s mother was more interested in confrontation than comforting her obviously hurt son.

  “Get out of my way,” Mrs. Danners said as she rudely elbowed Mrs. Rose out of the way.

  “I can see where your son gets it,” Mrs. Rose said as she rubbed her arm, stood, and went to see how her daughter was doing considering the events that had just transpired.

  “Hi, Callis.”

  “Hi, Mommy. I’ve got my ball back,” a beaming Callis announced.

  “I see that. Did you see what happened to Jimmy?”

  “Who, Mommy?” Callis asked, tilting her head in a questioning manner.

  “The boy who took your ball. Did you see what happened to him?”

  “He gave my ball back,” Callis answered.

  Well not really, Mrs. Rose thought. He fell and you took the ball back.

  “Oh shut up already or I’ll break your other arm!” Jimmy’s mother yelled as she hefted the shrieking boy up onto his feet.

  Mrs. Rose was thankful they lived in the opposite direction of the Danner homestead. “You ready to go home?” she asked Callis as she watched the retreating forms of Mrs. Danner and Jimmy; the former whacking the backside of her son’s head every so often.

  She turned to look back at her daughter. “Are you hurt? You have a little bit of blood on your jacket.” Mrs. Rose leaned down to look her daughter over.

  “Am I hurt?” Callis asked, not overly concerned.

  “I think it’s a little bit of a bloody nose,” she answered as she grabbed a napkin in her pocket just for these occasions. She wiped Callis’ nose clean and stood back up when she was satisfied nothing else was going to fall.

  As they walked, Callis would occasionally bounce her ball; more often than not, she would miss catching it and have to go chasing after. Mrs. Rose kept a watchful eye on her daughter. Something was just not sitting right with her and she wanted to see if she could get any answers.

  “Callis honey, what happened with the ball?” Mrs. Rose asked. “With Jimmy I mean.” she added when Callis once again cocked her head to the side as if trying to figure out what her mother was talking about.

  “He took my ball,” she said with pouty lips. “But then he gave it back,” she said with a smile.

  “He didn’t really give it back, Callie, he fell and he hurt himself.”

  “Mommy I asked him very strongly,” she said with a very stern face, which Mrs. Rose found endearing on someone so young. “And then I had my ball back.”

  Mrs. Rose knew she was missing something but didn’t think she was going to get any closer to finding an answer.

  Chapter 2

  Callis was eight years old when the family went on its first camping trip together. Mr. Rose wanted to do it the right way, so he bought a modest Winnebago and drove it to Tennessee, more specifically, the Great Smoky Mountains.

  “Really Robert we could have gone someplace a lot closer than Tennessee,” Hope told her husband as they passed through Barnhart Missouri.

  “We could have, but we’re only going to have Callis around for a few short years and then we’ll wish we had done more stuff like this,” he said, trying to placate his wife. Part of what he said was true, but a big part was that Robert Rose had a crush on Dolly Parton. He had ever since he was ten years old, and now he finally had a chance to drive through Pigeon Forge and visit the Dollywood amusement park.

  “The South, though?” Hope Rose asked, letting her deep blue blood show close to the surface. She had been born to money in Boston and some ‘isms’ die hard.

  “I promise if I see anyone playing the banjo with their toes we’ll turn around. Fair enough?”

  She didn’t look too appeased.

  “This is the twenty-first century, hon, I’m sure no one will want to make us squeal like a pig,” he said, making reference to the movie Deliverance.

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “It’ll be fine, plus, if we make good time we can make it to Dolly...I mean the Great Smokies by tonight. I haven’t heard Callis in a while…is she sleeping?” he asked, quickly moving on in hopes that his wife didn’t ferret out his real reason for the long camping trip.

  “You do know Dolly is about twenty years your senior, right?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as a bloom of red climbed up the side of his neck.

  “Why, Mr. Rose, are you blushing?”

  “Go check on the girl.”

  “The
truth shall set you free,” she said laughing. She got up from her seat and went into the back of the RV. Callis had fallen asleep with her head on the small table. A few of her dolls were scattered about. Hope picked up her daughter and placed her in bed.

  “She’s out,” Hope said, sitting back down.

  “Remember what we used to do on long car rides?” Robert asked with a wistful gleam in his eye.

  “Yes I do, seems to me that was a little over eight years ago.”

  “I wonder what Dolly would say?” he asked, ducking in case Hope swung.

  “Probably the same thing,” she said with a smile.

  The trio spent the first three days of their vacation in Pigeon Forge before Hope gently reminded her husband of why they had made the trip.

  “I do not think your daughter is going to get much outdoorsy experience in this tourist trap,” Hope told her husband as he and Callis came back from a cotton candy stand.

  “You can’t get raspberry swirl cotton candy in the wild, Hope,” Robert said with a mouthful of the tasty treat.

  “And that’s another thing, I’ve probably gained three pounds since we’ve been here. I don’t think I could eat another fried anything. Haven’t they ever heard of baking down here? They even have a stand over there that has deep fried Snickers.”

  “Really?” Robert spun around.

  “Robert, it’s time to do hot dogs on a camp grill.”

  “Just one Snickers,” he pleaded. “When am I ever going to have another chance to try one of those? Whaddaya think, kiddo?” Robert asked Callis.

  She was still trying to figure out how to eat the sticky candy without getting it all over her face.

  “You just gotta dive in,” her father told her as he took a big bite of his; strings of spun sugar hung from his unshaven face. Callis giggled in delight, mirroring his actions.

  “Oh, and you’re teaching her manners now?” Hope asked.

  “Dad they have Twinkies, too!” Callis said, looking at the Frying Station sign.

  “Now they’re just being silly,” he told his daughter as she laughed. “It’s like a health food Mecca.”

  Even Hope wanted to check it out. She’d had a particular weakness for the golden sponge cakes ever since her youth. “Fine! One horribly bad-for-you snack…and then we’re going camping,” she replied.

  “That’s my girl!” Robert said as he kissed his wife—sticky lips and all. Robert’s stomach gurgled and grumbled the entire ride into the mountains. He sounded like an overworked washing machine, and his wife let him know it.

  A fog had settled into the campground by the time they got there, the source of the Smoky Mountain range name. They had eaten a marginally better dinner consisting of hot dogs and potato chips and were now preparing to make s’mores over a small campfire.

  Mr. Rose was in the bathroom. The third deep-fried Snickers he had was not sitting with him that particularly well. Mrs. Rose had gone in to check on him and to also get the marshmallows from the cupboard.

  The scream was unmistakable. She dropped the bag of marshmallows she had been carrying and ran to the front of the camper. She vaguely heard the flush of the toilet as Mr. Rose hastily finished what he was doing so that he could come out and offer assistance to whoever had cried for help. It was a woman and it had been close, not more than a campsite or two over.

  Hope was out the door first and stopped short, her hand clutching her chest as she saw her daughter standing still on one side of the fire and a large black bear on the other. Callis’ hand that was holding the large chocolate bar was shaking as she looked into the eyes of the bear.

  “Callis…honey…don’t move,” Hope said haltingly, as she forced herself forward. She took note that the bear was as still as Callis. Neither was moving, although the bear’s eyes were darting around wildly.

  “Damn,” her husband said from behind her. He nearly ran into her back in his haste to get outside. Something quickly snapped inside Robert’s head as he took in the scene before him. He ran past, grabbing ahold of the awning pole. He charged at the bear, which still did not move, although its eyes grew wide as it saw the crazy man running wildly at him.

  Gorge rose in Hope’s throat as she helplessly watched, nothing good could come from this. The pole bent neatly in half as Robert brought it down on the bear’s back. The bear paid as little attention to it as if a leaf had landed there.

  Hope watched as Callis looked over to her father; whatever spell the bear had been under was broken when Callis looked away. The bear turned tail and ran, never looking back as it did so.

  “AH!!!!!” Robert screamed, waving his now bent awning pole. “Callis, Callis, Callis, are you alright?” he asked, coming around the fire to check on his daughter.

  “There was a bear, Dad,” she said, slightly in shock.

  “I know, baby, I know,” he told his daughter as he dropped the pole and scooped her up into his arms. “I chased the big bad bear away.”

  Hope had watched the whole event. She didn’t quite see it that way. The bear almost appeared to be a statue, unmoving, although aware. She was just grateful her daughter and her insane husband were alright or she may have dwelled on it more.

  A clot of blood dropped from Callis’ nose in a whoosh. She teetered and her father had to catch her before she completely fell over. Hope cleaned her daughter up and got her into her bedclothes before giving her over to her hovering father so that he could tuck her in.

  “Oops,” Mr. Rose said as he put Callis on her bed, “I think that bear is still scaring the crap out of me.” He smiled lopsidedly as a small measure of gas escaped him.

  “I think it has more to do with the fry stand,” Hope told him as she sat down next to her daughter, stroking her hair. Sweat lined her daughter’s brow. “You alright, sweetheart?” she asked as she kissed her daughter’s forehead.

  “There was a bear, Mommy. I think he wanted my chocolate, but I told him he couldn’t have it.”

  “I’m glad he listened.” She hugged her daughter tight. “Maybe we should go back to Dollywood,” Mrs. Rose said loudly so that her voice would travel through the now closed bathroom door.

  “Yeah…okay…as long as we don’t eat anything fried.”

  “Deal,” she told him as she got up to shut the door to the camper, although, if the look in the bear’s eyes were any indication, he wouldn’t be coming around any time soon.

  The Roses did spend the next couple of days in Pigeon Forge but headed home two days earlier than planned to a ‘more civilized’ area of the country.

  The encounter had scared the family and they wanted to be back among the more familiar. The legend of Robert’s encounter grew with each telling. Hope figured it would soon be a pack of grizzlies and he had slain them all with a sword as he did fancy ninja moves, but the fact remained that her husband, without thinking, had put himself in harm’s way to protect their daughter. Whether he played any true part in it she wasn’t sure, but she was also not going to begrudge him his valiant role in the epic “saga” as he liked to portray it to anyone that would listen.

  Chapter 3

  The next time Hope thought there might be more to Callis than meets the eye, her daughter was a few weeks shy of her ninth birthday. Janet, Hope’s friend from college, was coming to visit. She lived in Florida with her husband Jack and their son Coleman. Hope loved her friend with all her heart; her husband on the other hand was a pompous ass. She had met the man only twice, and he had slyly hit on her both times, knowing full well that she and Janet were best friends. Jack was overly cocky and loud, two unfavorable traits that he seemed to have passed on to his eight-year-old son in spades.

  Coleman was a terror. He demanded everything and very rarely did he take ‘no’ for an answer. Hope doubted very much that anything had changed since she had last seen him eighteen months ago.

  “At least Jack isn’t coming,” Robert said as he was putting on his tie, preparing to go to work.

  “I feel horrible,
I can’t wait to see Janet, I just wish she wasn’t bringing the crazy kid with her. Remember…he gave Callis a black eye the last time? Hit her on the side of the head while he was swinging her doll around?”

  “I remember,” Robert said as he cinched his tie a little too tightly. “And then the arrogant prick Jack said that maybe Callis was a little too old for dolls, and if she didn’t have them out she wouldn’t have got hurt. I wished I’d kept that pole from the bear attack, I would have used it on both of them.”

  “You’re horrible,” she told him laughing.

  “At least it’s just the one day. Gee, I sure do wish I could take the day off and watch Coleman.”

  “Not funny, Mr. Rose.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.” He kissed her and left.

  “It’s just one day,” she said as she watched her old friend pull into the driveway. She could tell Coleman was screaming about something because, as Janet opened the car door, his squealing voice assailed her even though she was inside the house.

  “I put my dolls away,” Callis said as she came up beside her mother.

  “That’s probably for the best.” Hope hugged her daughter’s shoulder, looking for some mutual support.

  Hope and Janet slid effortlessly into their friendship like an old skin. It mattered not if they had been separated for eighteen minutes or eighteen months, they could pick up a conversation without missing a beat. Hope was pouring their second cup of coffee when Janet came in.

  “Do you hear that?” Janet asked her friend.

  “I don’t,” Hope said, clearly confused as she strained to hear something out of the usual.

  “I don’t either. Coleman is quiet.”

  That is highly unusual, Hope thought. She wondered if perhaps they had gone outside, but Callis knew enough to ask. That wouldn’t stop Coleman, but Callis would let her mother know.