Strange Folk, page 12
“We can’t save them.”
Her voice wavered. “I know.”
When she used to get upset, Cooper would pull her into him and crush her face against his chest, smothering the feeling out of her. At first she’d thought, This is love. This is the force of love. But, eventually, she realized that it was a denial of her feelings. A straitjacket. Later, he wouldn’t touch her at all; her sadness, which had once been complex and exciting to him, was now a moral failing, exposing an inability to embrace life.
Otis brought his hands up and smoothed them over her hair, trailing his thumbs down her cheeks. It was just the right amount of pressure; she felt comforted but not smothered. She laid her hands on his chest, and he wrapped his arms securely around her. She swelled with the need to kiss him.
The noise of the family behind them broke the spell, and Otis stood and offered her a hand. They climbed down from the rock and followed the trail back the way they came in a comfortable, contemplative silence.
At the trailhead, his car was parked on the far side of the lot underneath a thicket of tall pines. It had rained that morning, and there was only one other car in the lot. They got into the car, and it was mossy inside from the moisture.
Before he could turn the ignition, she straddled him in the front seat. He buried his face in her chest as she held him against her by the back of his neck.
Otis was all quiet, storming intelligence, meeting her in each touch. It was deliberate, solid, tender. She felt seen and stripped to her desires, so there was no hiding. Just as it had twenty years ago, the passion inside of her was unleashed as a bewildering, carnal force. But this time he was ready to receive it, and she wasn’t afraid to let it take her under.
The moment had its own momentum that she gave herself over to, sliding her shorts down with desperate hands as he unzipped his pants and brought her down on top of him. Relief filled her. As they moved, they created their own weather in the car, the windows becoming opaque with fog and shielding them from the rest of the world.
THIRTEEN
That Friday night, the stadium lights were the brightest thing for miles, casting everything around them into thick, forceful shadow as Lee, Billy, and Cliff sat in the stands.
Lee had asked Meredith to join, but she’d refused. Since their fight a few days ago, she spent most of her time out of the house with friends, and when Lee tried to talk to her, she shut down completely. Lee had never exerted control over her daughter; they’d lived in such easy, honest coexistence that she didn’t need to. It would have been an insult. And now that she had, something had changed between them. They were no longer living in the same reality. But safe boundaries meant she cared; she wished her mother had given a single damn when she was younger.
She’d made no progress on the mystery of the black flower. She’d driven by the address Otis gave her every afternoon and evening the last few days, but there was no sign of the Grim Reaper Halloween statue that signaled TJ was open for business. She wondered if Otis had deliberately thrown her off course, but she didn’t want to think that could be true. She was afraid to go up there uninvited; her only option was to get Kimmie to take her to TJ somehow. She would figure out a way.
She nudged Billy’s arm with her elbow. “I saw Mama a few days ago.”
“Where?”
“At the dollar store.” Lee paused. “She said you told her we were in town and that Belva wouldn’t let her come around.”
“She asked me if you were here, and I didn’t lie to her. She got the notion into her head somehow.”
“Has she really tried to see us?”
“Yeah, I asked Mama for her, and she said, ‘Not on her life.’ ”
Lee didn’t like that Belva had made a decision on her behalf and then kept it from her, but it was exactly what she would have done. “She did the right thing. I can’t let the kids be around her.”
Billy was uncommonly quiet and avoided eye contact.
“Do you not agree?”
“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t like how Mama treats Red. She got all this compassion for other people, but not a drop for her own daughter.”
Lee considered this. She admired Billy’s empathy, but he hadn’t lived with this version of Redbud. He couldn’t understand that cutting her off was survival. Even if the guilt sometimes reared its ugly head, she knew this was true.
The intercom cracked above them, and Lee traced it to the high school principal, who stood on a flimsy platform in front of the bleachers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out tonight to cheer on our Craw Valley Buzzards!”
As people half-heartedly cheered, Lee leaned over and asked Billy, “The ‘Buzzards’? Didn’t it used to be the ‘Indians’ or something disrespectful like that?”
“A few years ago, they got pressure from the reservation to change it. They let the students decide, and I guess they thought it’d be a good joke if we were the ‘Buzzards.’ ”
“The carcass eaters. I don’t hate it.”
“I like it, too,” Cliff added. “Vultures are beautiful.”
Billy smiled. “I hear you. Those red heads and pretty black feathers? Cleaning up what no one else wants? Buzzards are done dirty.”
The principal took on a somber tone in the background, and Lee tuned back in.
“Many of you have heard by now of Mr. Hall’s tragic passing. He was one of the greatest teachers Craw Valley has ever had, and he’ll be greatly missed. We dedicate tonight’s game to him. As he liked to say, ‘These might be boys, but when they step onto this field, they become gladiators.’ I know he’s looking down on us from Heaven right now. Make him proud, Buzzards!”
The crowd cheered, and Lee wondered if any of them knew the truth about Mr. Hall. They must, and yet here they were, clapping for him like a fallen hero. An old couple next to them gawked at Lee and her family, and she knew what they were thinking. Murderers.
Lee decided this was the perfect time to visit the snack bar. As she made her way down the metal stairs with Cliff beside her, she could feel hundreds of eyes following them. A kid in a black-feathered vulture costume pretended to fly along the sidelines, cawing in an ominous key.
Standing before the concrete cube, she introduced Cliff to all the familiar foods: the nacho cheese that was only a thick, salty suggestion of cheese; the watery slush puppies; the hot dogs. He had a particular passion for processed foods that amused her; he’d eaten healthy, expensive food since birth, and all he wanted was the junk she’d grown up eating. His eyes widened at the Little Debbies with their smooth plastic frosting, and she let him pick one.
As they walked away, eager to enjoy their treats, they crossed paths with Dreama. She wore an oversized CVHS jersey with her son’s number over slim jeans and large diamond hoops in her ears. As the jewels glinted in the stadium lights, Lee couldn’t help but be mesmerized by them.
“Hey, family. How are y’all holding up?”
“We’re fine.”
“I was so sorry to hear about Mr. Hall.” She lowered her voice and put a hand up to the side of her mouth. “It must have been terrible for the children to see. Talk about trauma.”
“It was scary for all of us.”
Dreama leaned in close to Lee, and an expensive ginger-and-tobacco scent wafted from beneath her clothes. “If y’all don’t feel safe up there, you’re always welcome at our house. Our basement has two guest bedrooms and its own kitchen.”
“Oh, thanks. That’s very kind. But I can’t leave Belva and Luann up there by themselves.”
Dreama raised an eyebrow. “Belva’s the one you gotta get away from. She is dangerous. I’ve suspected it for a while, and this just proves it.”
Lee looked down at Cliff, who was scowling at Dreama. She told him to return to the seats without her, and she turned back to Dreama. “There is no way she killed Mr. Hall. You know her. She’s your grandmother.”
“I do know her. The real her. That’s how I know she’s behind this. I should have warned you earlier, but I thought you would have seen it.”
“All I’ve seen is a woman who actually cares about people. She might be a bit eccentric, but her intentions are always in the right place.”
Dreama gave her a pitying smile. “I know it’s hard to believe. She was magical when we were kids. But it’s the truth.” She patted Lee’s arm. “If you change your mind, my offer stands.”
Dreama walked past Lee and into the bleachers, where she took a seat in the front row next to her husband. He was from the Northeast somewhere, and he and Dreama had met at a real estate conference in DC. There was something untouchable about him. He seemed to glide through the community without actually engaging with it, like a prince visiting the commoners in his kingdom. They made eye contact briefly, and he broke into a wide, toothy smile. The vacancy behind his eyes gave her the chills.
Lee spotted Cliff standing at the chain-link fence and walked over to him. He was staring across the field at the trees that bordered it on one side. She searched for something of note, but all she saw was a dark wall in the shadow of the lights.
“What are you looking at?”
“It’s here,” he said softly.
“What’s here?”
“The thing I saw in the woods. It’s watching us over there.”
“Where?” Lee searched again, but she still couldn’t see anything.
“I can’t see it, but I can feel it.”
Lee exhaled. She had been down this road before. She and Cooper were forced to switch Cliff’s room with the playroom because he was convinced it was haunted.
She told him it would be okay and tried to lead him back toward the seats, but he resisted.
“We need to leave. Now.”
She rubbed his back and reminded him to breathe, but he recoiled from her touch. “Mom. Stop. We have to go. Please just listen to me.” The last few words came out as a yell, and heads turned from the game to them. Lee met eyes with Billy, and he quickly left the stands and joined them. She told him Cliff wanted to leave, and he said that’s probably what they should do.
* * *
That night, after Lee put a calmed Cliff to sleep and Kimmie came over for a nightcap, they lay on their backs in the garden, looking up at the stars and passing a bottle of cheap whiskey back and forth. Once Kimmie was soft and giddy, she wouldn’t say no to an adventure.
As Lee waited for the alcohol to trickle through their systems, she could feel it taking her to a grim place, and she longed for the elation of the moonshine. Lee had appreciated alcohol for many reasons over the years, but it had never provided such a direct path to transcendence as the moonshine. It created magic where there was none.
Kimmie passed her the bottle, and she took another tiny sip. She needed to be cogent to pull this off.
“You know what would be good right now?” Lee asked.
“A chicken pot pie and a hard dick?”
“Jesus. No. Well, maybe the pie. And maybe the dick.” Lee and Kimmie giggled. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“What, then?”
Lee took a deep breath. “I want some of that moonshine.”
Kimmie sighed. “I want some, too… Today was too damn boring for my taste. I need to get a little weird.”
“God, me too.”
Kimmie shifted on her side to face Lee and bared her teeth in a sly smile. “I know where we can get it.”
“Where?”
“My brother’s place.”
Lee sobered. Here was her chance. She couldn’t sound too eager. “Let’s go, then.”
Kimmie’s brow furrowed as she played it out in her mind. “I should go and bring it back. You can wait here.”
“What? No. I want to come.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“It will be fun…”
Kimmie was quiet for a bit, and then in a whispered threat, “If you come, you gotta do everything I say. I mean it, girl. I tell you to shit, and you squat.”
“Yes, ma’am. I promise.” Lee pulled herself to standing, and the land swiveled slightly on its axis. “Can you drive?” She looked over, and Kimmie seemed to be steadying herself as well.
“Naw. We don’t need wheels, though. I know a trail.”
Lee followed Kimmie to the ritual clearing where three trails jutted from it in different directions. Belva had told Lee as a kid that the clearing lay at the crossroads of two paths, and she must never take the path headed west. She’d imagined vague horrors at its end, and it scared her enough to never attempt it. Now, Kimmie stepped onto the westward trail, and Lee followed. As they ventured farther, the path faded underfoot, but Kimmie was confident as she strode on. If anything was a creature of this place, it was her.
They walked for a while with the only sound their footsteps crunching through leaves. Lee listened for anything sinister beneath it as the image of a creature darting out of the woods ran once again through her mind. Then Kimmie picked up speed in front of her, and Lee matched it as if pulled along in her jet stream. They both ran through the trees with the liquor burning like gasoline in their chests. She could keep moving all night if she needed to.
After a while, Lee noticed the dark around them was slowly leaching into gray. The trees parted, and they entered a clearing with a pale blue mobile home with new additions jutting out from both sides. Parked in front was what looked like a souped-up black Ford Coupe with a low bottom.
People milled about the lot, but she had a hard time seeing their faces under their hoodies and through the shadow cast by a small fire burning in the center. This gathering had a much different feel than the party she’d attended with Otis. She saw one group huddled in the shadow of a shed, and when Lee met the eyes of one of the men, she could see dirt clouding his gaze. He reminded her of her mother’s old friends who used to linger in their living room for days on end.
On the far side of the clearing, TJ and a couple men sprawled on living room furniture in the grass. One of them called to Kimmie, and she dragged Lee over with her.
TJ sat in a gray La-Z-Boy like a redneck lord. “O-pa-line Ford.” He gestured to an old polyester sofa in a brown floral print, and she sat down next to a kid in his late teens or early twenties. He had blond dreads and smelled like stale bong water, and his eyelids were slitted against the firelight.
“Nice place you have here,” Lee said.
“Ma left it to me when she passed, and I kept a lot of her things. Some of this shit is built to last, you know? A lot of this new stuff is cheap shit.” The arm of the recliner gave slightly as TJ brought his fist down, and he looked satisfied by the demonstration. Lee noticed the expensive watch glinting from his wrist. “Kimmie said y’all been hanging out again.” He paused and took a drink of a Monster energy in the chair’s cup holder. He hadn’t looked at Kimmie since they’d walked over, and he continued to talk as if she wasn’t there. “I love her cause she’s my sister, but that bitch is crazy.”
Kimmie grunted but didn’t speak. Lee had never seen her this quiet. She wanted to defend her, but Kimmie gave her a look. She’d promised to follow her lead.
There was a silence then. Not necessarily awkward, but more of a standoff to see who would speak first.
“So what can I do for you?” he asked.
Kimmie cut in. “We’re here to party.”
TJ still refused to look at her, but he nodded in acknowledgment. “Well, all right then. Let’s get fucked up.” He motioned to a man standing near the trailer, who went inside and came out holding two small flower-stamped canning jars filled with a clear liquid. A fresh black flower lay in the bottom of one with a sinister nonchalance that mesmerized Lee.
As Kimmie reached for the jars, Lee and TJ met eyes, and she saw something ancient and animal staring back at her. A deep cunning, and an indifference that ran cold through her veins.
Before Lee could explore further, Kimmie took her hand and led her forcefully over to the fire. They sat down on the grass, and Kimmie took the first sip of the jar with the black flower in the bottom. She didn’t break eye contact with Lee as she let the liquid flow into her mouth for a long, luxurious moment. Then she passed it to her.
Lee pretended to sip, but she only let a little go down her throat. It no longer burned like it did the first time. Now it tasted almost smooth, like drinking from a hot spring.
She covertly studied the people around her, looking for some indication of why they were there. Was it just a place to buy drugs and get fucked up, or was there something else happening beneath the surface? Where had Mr. Hall fit in a place like this? She couldn’t imagine him sitting here in his blazer, making pretentious quips.
The jar quickly drained between them, with Kimmie drinking most of it, until only the soaked flower lay at the bottom. Kimmie reached in with her fingers and brought it to Lee’s face with mischief glistering in her eyes. She tickled the tip of her nose and trailed it down. Without thinking, Lee closed her eyes and parted her lips. She felt it fill her mouth like a soft spider. The petals were jellied and lush as she bit softly and chewed.
The taste was an overwhelming version of the liquor itself. A phantasm of undiluted shifting flavors: honey, leaves, bubblegum, ash, blood. When she finally swallowed, she lay back on the ground with the force of it.
Her skin tingled like something was coming up through her pores. Thin roots sprouted from every inch of skin that touched the grass: the back of her head, her shoulder blades, her thighs. They probed into the dirt and snaked their way down, farther into the earth, branching and spreading below her. She could feel the roots glowing. An electricity crackled through her, and she knew it was the power of the land. They were connected.
She sensed the groundwater flowing below as it fed the wells of the houses tucked into the mountains. When she focused on the water itself, she could access the memories it held, of every living thing that ever made a home on this land. A dinosaur lapping from a creek with its long tongue. A prehistoric woman peering down into its reflective surface and seeing herself staring back.
