12 Deaths of Christmas
Page 22
“Your name, stranger?” the woman said.
“Kelvin,” he answered and repeated what he told the man a few minutes ago. “I also don’t have any cell service and I was hoping to find a hotel for the night because I don’t have enough gas to keep driving. The snow, it got bad, and I don’t think I can make it through the roads to the next town.”
The tired woman’s smile disappeared as quickly as she showed it. Then she stepped away from the doorway. “Come inside. It’s a bitter night. I don’t want to leave the door open. We don’t want to upset my sisters by letting cold in.” The scarred man moved to the side, allowing Kelvin to pass.
The inside of the home was completely open, no walls to partition one room from another. The expanse was only broken by the occasional support pillar, squared logs that jutted into the rafters above. On the far side, a wide hearth dominated the entirety of a wall, where a fire pitched warm light into the home’s interior. Three beds lined a far wall and a large wool rug covered the bare floor between. To the opposite side was a kitchen, a simple space with a long counter that would fit more appropriately in a restaurant prep area than here if it, too, weren’t made of wood. A large oak table, spotted by swirling knots that darkened its texture, was surrounded with no less than 10 chairs. A massive meeting place that consumed the kitchen area. Everything in this home was a direct descendant of the forest around the village.
No television, no radio, nothing on the countertop that reflected the modernity of the world outside this village. Now that he thought about it, Kelvin hadn’t seen a single sign of electricity since his arrival. This place was the definition of isolation. Kelvin had the sudden feeling that he’d stepped back in time, not the most comfortable situation for a black man surrounded by white people.
“That’s Dodi and she’s Love,” the tired woman pointed at the pair of women sitting in chairs near the fire. They too were slim and blond, looking equally tired. Neither turned around to acknowledge him. It wasn’t the best welcome he’d ever had but being ignored wasn’t anything new. Plus, he wasn’t here to make friends; he needed to survive the night and get help in the morning. “I’m Elsa,” the woman finished.
“Nice to meet you. I appreciate any help you’d be willing to give me. I don’t know what else to do.”
Elsa examined him with those tired eyes. Life had beaten her down more than a few times. “George will see to it that you have a bed for the evening,” Elsa indicated the large man standing watch outside the door. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
And with that, Elsa turned away and moved to the empty chair in front of the fire, picking up a tangle of wool. Dismissed, he knew that much. George waited at the door. Giving a timid wave of thanks, Kelvin stepped out into the cold night before his body had a chance to warm. This was especially cruel.
The pair of men were silent as they made their way to a much smaller house across the courtyard. Six mats, four of them currently occupied by sleeping men, were spread across the small interior. It looked like a tiny barracks. George pointed at an empty mat next to the front door before moving to his own. Without a single word, he stripped off his shoes and the rest of his clothes. Kelvin settled himself in, trying not to watch George standing there in outdated long underwear. But George was going to be warm tonight and that mattered more than how ridiculous he appeared. Even in the small confines of this house filled with grown men and their body heat, the air held a menacing chill. George’s outfit might look like something out of a Mormon nightmare, but Kelvin bet it helped him sleep through nights like this.
Still, he was forced to stifle a smirk.
***
A few hours of poor sleep later, Kelvin woke. The cold winter weather coupled with the shack’s shoddy insulation made the evening uncomfortable at the best of times. The single wool blanket they gave him didn’t hinder the constant creep of cold. The only heat was the heat his body created by shivering all night. In the morning, Kelvin woke feeling like a gang of red-tailed chipmunks had given him a violent pillow party throughout the night.
He bolted upright when he noticed he was alone, and for a second, he wondered if it had all been a dream. His unfamiliar surroundings reminded him that it wasn’t. At least he’d survived the nightmare of the cold.
Noise drifted in from outside, signs of life and labor. Kelvin folded the wool blanket and set it at the end of the mat. Everything hurt.
He opened the door to a sunny morning, wincing as the brightness stabbed at his eyes and the immediate chill that gripped his bones. Sun bounced off billions of snow crystals covering the village courtyard. He panicked, wondering what the snow depth meant for the possibilities of getting his car out. Maybe he could use George’s truck to get it free? The man was quiet, but he had been helpful last night. So maybe he’d be willing to help Kelvin out of his desperate situation with the car?
Men, at least eleven that he could see, milled around the open area. Some sawed or chopped wood, others worked on repairs or improvements on some of the homes. Metal clanking on metal rang out from underneath the large overhang. A pair of young girls, no more than eight, dressed in long dresses complete with wool hats and gloves, giggled as they raced in front of the small house, throwing snow at each other. How were they not frozen?
It was nice to hear the laughter of children. As strange as this village was, at least it felt normal and he didn’t feel so desperate. George was nowhere.
A small boy in ragged clothes ran up to him, offering a thin-lipped smile.
“Good morning,” Kelvin said.
The boy tugged at the bottom of Kelvin’s jacket and then raced up away, waving for Kelvin to join him. He followed.
The boy raced across the courtyard in the direction of a large fire pit, spanning at least 20 feet across. Picnic tables, broad and rough, encircled it. A thick column of faint white drifted into the air above. Children filled the benches, accompanied by the occasional man spotted in between. Probably to keep peace amongst the boys and giggling girls.
The boy ran back to Kelvin, wearing that same smile, and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the fire. He didn’t resist, even from this distance the heat cast off by the fire welcomed him. Plus, the smell of roasting meat made Kelvin’s mouth water.
As they neared a picnic table the boy gestured for Kelvin to sit. He did.
“Good morning,” Kelvin said to the gaggle of boys and girls seated at the table. The boys didn’t respond, and the girls giggled, some of them whispering in the ears of others. Strange children in a strange village.
But these children were the last thing on his mind. The thin-lipped boy set a plate, piled high with bacon and potatoes, in front of him. Kelvin’s mouth watered taking in the sight. He’d never seen such thick slabs of bacon. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to bite through it. Distraction from the trauma of the previous night ebbed away. Kelvin was ravenous, the night’s drama forgotten. The potatoes were firm, requiring Kelvin to use his molars to break them down. He didn’t care. There was a sharp seasoning. Sage? And the bacon? When was bacon not good? Sitting outside at a picnic table filled with weird kids, eating a heavy breakfast off a plate that wore its battle scars proudly, Kelvin couldn’t remember a better dining experience. Was this what desperation did? Changed your view about everything?
Kelvin couldn’t help himself. He ate second and third helpings. The girls giggled each time he asked for a little more. The men at the other tables watched him. It was odd that none of them had come to greet him, but he wasn’t shocked. A stranger, a black stranger, invading their remote home wasn’t going to get the red carpet treatment.
Not surprised. Disappointed.
But none of that mattered. As soon as George could help him get his car out he’d leave these strange people and their village behind with a promise to immediately forget about it the minute he reached the civilized world.
“Are you feeling better?” A raspy, female voice asked. Kelvin turned around to see Elsa standing with her arms fo
lded across her chest.
“Yes, yes I am,” he said, brushing food from his lap and standing out of respect.
Elsa said nothing but gave a quick nod. Even if these men couldn’t show him decency, he could still give it. If nothing else, he could serve as a model for these children.
The girls at his table giggled again and Elsa shot them a sharp glance, immediately silencing them. “My apologies for the children, they can be rambunctious at times,” she said.
These were some of the most well-behaved children he’d ever seen in his life. “Oh, they’re no worry at all. They’ve been great,” he said in half-apology, hoping he wasn’t responsible for giving Elsa the impression the children bothered him.
“Be that as it may, we expect more out of them,” Elsa answered. She dropped her arms to her side. “Come. Love and Dodi wish to hold counsel. Before we do, we’d like to speak with you.”
“Okay,” Kelvin stammered, dropping in behind Elsa as she made her way through a trough carved in the deep snow.
They didn’t speak as they crossed the courtyard, passing dozens of men working themselves into a sweat even in this cold world. Children raced here and there, the girls playing all sorts of imaginary games. A good number of boys of all ages assisted the village’s men with various tasks.
As if reading his thoughts, Elsa spoke over her shoulder. “We’re a small village, quite a ways from other towns. So we depend on the skills of the community to survive. We have to. I’m sure you’ve noticed that. We teach them young.”
“It must be difficult.”
“What?”
Kelvin looked around. “Surviving out here. So far away from everything.”
“We like it.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Elsa ascended the steps of the large house. “Most people would never understand why we do what we do. But most people couldn’t survive out here either. We’re not interested in their opinions.” With that, she stepped inside. Kelvin followed.
Love and Dodi sat at the kitchen table. “Close the door behind you,” Elsa ordered over her shoulder.
“Come, sit,” Love patted the chair next to her. In the daylight, her resemblance to Elsa was even more striking. She was striking. By far the more beautiful of the three. He’d been wrong, Kelvin realized; the shades of exhaustion didn’t dampen her skin as it had the other two women.
Dodi also now looked like true blood to Elsa, but far shy of Love’s attractiveness. Two of them got the short end of the genetic stick. Dodi watched him with an unwavering stare.
Kelvin smiled as he sat. Something told him that these women were who saved him last night. Without their approval, he would be the blackest snowman this part of the world had ever seen. “Thank you again for what you did for me. I don’t think I would’ve made it if you hadn’t been so kind.”
“You wouldn’t have,” Dodi shook her head. “Storm would’ve taken you in the night, for sure as we sit here.”
“This part of the world can be challenging,” Elsa said. Kelvin didn’t have time to translate her cryptic statement. “We don’t usually open our home to outsiders. I hope you appreciate what we’ve done for you.”
Kelvin nodded. “I do. I do. I’m extremely grateful.”
“Good,” came Dodi's curt response. “What we’ve done, we’ve done from the goodness of our hearts, as our Lord would have us do.”
“We’re God-fearing people,” Love’s soft voice fluttered into the conversation. “All we do, we do in His name. There are no strangers in Christ.”
“You will respect that,” Elsa leaned forward on an elbow. “This is our home. We provide shelter, structure, and love for the community and we won’t risk that.” Kelvin wasn’t sure what she was implying. The last thing he wanted from this situation was to be seen as a troublemaker. He wanted to get as far away from these hill people as he could, as soon as he could.
“I get that,” he replied, hoping that would satiate the women. Was this a squeeze play for money? But what would a community like this need money for?
“Men can be fickle about what they choose to understand,” Dodi leaned back in her chair, arms crossed.
“Full of empty promises,” Love sighed.
“Thinking they can charm you into capitulation,” Elsa sneered.
In an instant, the conversation darkened. Kelvin was confused. Had he done something to offend them? What could he have said? He’d just joined them at their request.
Before he could defend his entire gender, Dodi leaned forward, thrusting a finger at him. “We won’t allow you to bring sin into our home,” she accused him.
Kelvin leaned backward out of instinct, the urge to defend himself biting at his conscience. “Well, I don’t know what—”
“We haven’t asked for your counsel,” Love’s soft voice held a steely edge even as her eyes flirted. “When we do, you’ll know.”
“Until then, you remain silent. You listen. When you listen, you’ll learn,” Dodi barked.
Elsa reached over and patted the woman’s hand.
“Learn what?” The question was out. Kelvin wasn’t trying to be antagonistic, but he also had no idea what was happening here.
“God’s will,” Love stated, the corner of her mouth sneaked upward in a half-smile. Kelvin caught her gaze moving to his chest.
He was about to respond when the distinct sounds of an approaching engine stopped him. The weirdness of this conversation had him on edge, but the familiar sounds of civilization raised his spirit in an instant. Someone had found their way into the village. Whoever they were, they could give him a ride back to his car and maybe get him unstuck. He wouldn’t need help from George or this weird clique. He would take a ride into the next town if that was all this new arrival could offer.
Still, no reason to fan the flames. Kelvin stood. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you. I don’t mean to be a bother and I definitely don’t mean to disrespect any of you or your beliefs, so I’ll see myself out.”
He hadn’t taken two steps before Elsa spoke. “And where do you think you’ll go?”
The comfortable cockiness in her words flared his anger. Kelvin spun. He’d been patient enough, but this was undeserving. White people routinely treated him like an inconvenience, like garbage. He didn’t deserve this. “I’m leaving. I’ll head into town.”
“And how will you get there?” Elsa teased.
Kelvin cocked a thumb at the front door. “I’ll get a ride from whoever pulled up.”
The three women at the table smiled.
“You’ll be disappointed,” Elsa smirked.
Kelvin squashed the urged to slap that expression from her face. He wasn’t that kind of man, no matter how tempting it was. “What are you talking about?”
Dodi flicked her wrist at him. “Go look.”
Kelvin did. They were too confident. Something was wrong. He needed time to process this and think of a way out if salvation hadn’t come in the form of a visitor. Then he saw it. It wasn’t a stranger or new arrival. It was George, in his truck, towing Kelvin’s wrecked car. The entire front end was smashed as if something heavy had been dropped on it. The front tires were gone, fully exposing the bent rims. Someone punched out the windows too.
Something—rage?—stirred in his gut.
“What the fuck?”
“Sinner!” Dodi snapped.
Love whimpered.
“What happened to my car? What the fuck is going on here?” Spittle flew from his lips.
Elsa and Dodi shared a look. “The rage of man is his greatest weakness,” Dodi said, her voice dropping the temperature of the large room even as it flamed his temper.
“In his belly rages the fire of hell,” Love shook her head.
Elsa stood, smoothing her heavy slacks, which looked identical to the pair he’d seen on the boy earlier. The same as all the children wore. And all three women. Everyone dressed in those same heavy, wool slacks. How had he only noticed this now?
A vehicle door banged, followed by thick footsteps on the stairs. George had arrived.
The door creaked open and the monster-man filled the opening. “Thank you, George,” Elsa said with a warmth that bordered on intimacy while her icy gaze mocked Kelvin. “You won’t be needing your car.”
Fire burned inside him. Fury. His throat tightened with tension and boiling rancor. His arms shook with the fire of a man shoved too many times by the world. “The hell I don’t. I don’t know what kind of sick game you all are playing, but I’m not hanging around for it. I needed your help. And this is how you treat people in need? This is some sick shit.”
Love giggled, receiving a swift slap on the hand from Dodi. Then she covered her mouth behind the reddening hand.
Elsa didn’t seem to notice. “You will be staying. You are our guest. Plus,” she swept her arm in a half circle, gesturing toward the world outside the house, “we need help around here.”