Black Stump Ridge (4 page)

“I’m about to tell you some things you may not want to hear. Some are about me. Some about your dad. Some about the others. Things I didn’t tell anyone else not even the cops. Some of ’em will be terrible. Ugly. Things you won’t wanna believe, though I swear they’re all true.

“You’re gonna want that drink – and maybe more – by the time I’m done. That I promise you. You sure you want me to do this?”

Amanda stared at him for a long time as he sat on the bed, his back against the headboard. His left leg stretched toward her; the right was bent at the knee. Blue eyes stared out at her from dark sockets. Sallow skin hung in loose folds beneath his eyes. Deep lines radiated from their corners. His scalp clung tightly to the clearly defined skull beneath. He’d cleaned up since yesterday, yet he seemed less – what? Savory? Healthy? Yes, that was it. There was unhealthiness about the man lying before her. It was the face of a man who communed with Death but whose soul Death was clearly in no hurry to collect. Certainly more than a decade of determined alcohol abuse had taken its toll. There had to be more to it, though.

She shuddered. Chill clammy fingers danced lightly down her spine. “That’s why I’m here. I want to hear the truth.”

“You say that now. You have no idea where this is gonna go. You need to understand that truth is a relative thing. I ain’t promisin’ the whole truth like they say in a courtroom. I’m promisin’ to tell it the best I can. The truth as I saw it.”

“I don’t care where it goes.” Did she really feel as certain as the vehemence she tried to put into her voice? Did it matter? Not any more. “I have to know.”

Fred nodded and leaned back against the headboard, his eyes closed. Time stretched. Just as Amanda started to think he’d fallen asleep, he spoke. “Some of this you know already. How we’d try to do something every year. Hunting, fishing, something. Sometimes it was just your dad and Dave – Dave Willets that was – and me. Sometimes it was all of us. We three plus Peete Davis and Charlie Dobbs.”

“They said Charlie Dobbs….”

“He did. I found a note he wrote before he disappeared. Never told the cops about it. Didn’t see any need. By then all hell had broke loose and we had other things to worry about.”

“That was a horrible thing. Not just the way he died, but his wife, too.”

Fred shrugged. “I guess. Considering all that happened, maybe it evened out. I’m not smart enough to know.” He paused.

“Most of what I’m gonna tell you I either saw for myself, was told by those who knew, or figured out later. Some of it the guys – your dad included – told me. I don’t know why, but I was the one everyone else came to with their problems. Your dad, Charlie, Peete, Dave, they all trusted me with the most God-awful secrets. Things they didn’t feel they could tell anyone else. Not even Father Dawes in the confessional. Things I didn’t want to know.”

Fred looked at Amanda. “Are you sure you wanna go through with this, girl?”

“I’m not a girl anymore. I can handle the truth.”

“That’s what everyone says. Once it’s out, though, with all of its ugliness plain to see, it seems no one really can. Not many, anyway. ’Course by then it’s too late ‘cause the damage is done.”

“Please, Mr. Kyle. Or, would you rather I called you Uncle Fred, like I used to?”

His previous day’s thoughts flashed through his mind. “No, not Uncle Fred. Just Fred will do. When I get done, you might be calling me worse.”

He took a short sip and then set the glass on the floor next to the bed. “Okay. Tell the truth and shame the devil, as my mom used to say. Like I was saying, we always tried to get together and do things. Poker nights were the best, though I’m sure the wives didn’t agree. I know Charlie’s wife didn’t. That bitch didn’t like Charlie hanging out with us. ’Scuse my French, but there ain’t no other way to say it. She was a stone cold bitch an’ not just because she didn’t like us.

“Anyway, it all started when I was talking to my mom. I’d called to wish her a happy birthday. We were talkin’ about this and that. Nothing special, just the usual catching up with the family bullshit, y’know? One thing led to another and I told her that me and the guys were lookin’ for something new to do this year. She suggested we come on up to her uncle’s cabin to do some hunting. I asked her what cabin she was talkin’ about. She reminded me that her uncle Lawyer had died a few years before and left her his cabin. House, actually.

“Well, I didn’t remember anything about it and I told her so. She told me I should come up and take a look at it. I thought about it and decided why not. So, a few weeks later I went up. It turned out to be a whole lot nicer than I pictured, so when I got back, I told the others about it. That’s when we decided to plan the great Thanksgiving Day Weekend Hunting Extravaganza.

“We decided to leave on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. We probably could have left on Wednesday, but that meant we’d have to drive all night to get there on Thanksgiving and no one wanted to do that. No telling what kind of mood everyone would be in when we got there.

“We all agreed to meet at my place early so we could get everything packed. Johnny, Dave, and Peete got there pretty much at the same time. Peete started packing things right away. He’s a genius at using space. Renting a Jeep with a roof top carrier was his idea, and it was a damned good one.

“Anyway, everything was just about ready, but Charlie was still a no show. The morning was half gone and we’d about decided he wasn’t going to make it. We figured he and Janine had got into another fight. She was good at that – waiting until the last minute to start some shit and makin’ him change his mind. We were getting ready to close up the roof box when here he comes flyin’ around the corner. He screeched to a stop in front of the house.

“Of course, Dave gave him a ration of shit for being late, and then we helped him get his gear. Peete got it stowed in no time. Then Charlie asked me something strange. He wanted to put his car in my garage while we were gone. He wouldn’t say why. I figured he didn’t want Janine to drive by and see it parked out front, so I told him okay.”

Fred stared silently at the wall behind Amanda for a long moment. He blinked a couple of times, and then spoke again. “Looking back, I guess that was the first clue that something was wrong. Of course, I didn’t see it, then. None of us did. We all knew what a stone cold bitch she could be. We just figured it was more of the crap she always dished out.”

“Why did she hate you so much? I mean, I remember her, too, from a couple of backyard barbecues. She wasn’t really nice to anyone, but she seemed to really have it in for you.”

“I’m not absolutely sure, but I think it had something to do with Charlie’s bachelor party.”

“What happened? Did you do something?”

“Not intentionally. You have to understand, Amanda, we knew Charlie long before he started dating Janine. So, when he said they were getting married, we all wanted to throw him a party. You know, tradition. We didn’t plan to do anything too weird. Actually, compared to some I’ve been to, what we planned was pretty tame. Now, while we knew Charlie, none of us had done much more than meet Janine. We didn’t know her and she wasn’t all that keen on making our acquaintance. Well, the guys put me in charge of the entertainment. Why? I have no idea. I guess because I was, technically, the only single man in the group. Actually, I was divorced, but the concept holds. So, I thought about hiring a stripper, maybe giving him a last lap dance before he got his ba – his wings clipped. It’s not like I was hiring a hooker.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should have. Might have turned out better.”

He sighed. “How was I to know the dancer had been Janine’s college roommate or that she was one of the bridesmaids?”

Amanda squealed. “You’re kidding!”

“I wish I was. I mean, Janine always acted so high and mighty, like she shit rose petals and pissed perfume. That was the first impression she laid on everybody. How was I to know she had a stripper for a friend?

“Course, it all makes sense to me, now – her bein’ so pissy at me all the time, I mean. It’s sad she never got over it. I kept thinking she had to see the humor some time. I guess Janine was never one to see humor in anything – especially if she thought she was at the center of it. And, she always acted like she was the center of everything.

“Anyway, we got Charlie’s car stashed, got the Jeep loaded, and headed out. All day – through Dallas and Texarkana and across Arkansas – everyone was having a great time. I mean, it felt so good to get away from everything. Like Willie Nelson says in his song: “On the road, again…” Of course, everyone had their quiet times, too. Sometimes I’d look in the mirror and see your daddy lookin’ out the window like he was thinking about something. Most times he’d catch me at it and shoot me a smile as if to let me know everything was cool.

“Charlie was different. At first, he cut up like everyone else. He seemed more relieved than usual that we were finally on the road. When we started getting close to Texarkana, though, he seemed, I don’t know, nervous somehow. A couple of times we passed State Troopers. One was alongside the road running radar and another one passed us with his lights on. Both times Charlie sank down into the seat like he was trying to be part of the cushion.

“When we crossed into Arkansas, he seemed to relax a little. He still watched every cop car we saw until it was out of sight, but he didn’t try to hide like he did in Texas.

“We spent the night in a little motel just off the interstate about halfway between Memphis and Nashville. Johnny said he didn’t feel well and kept to himself. Charlie, on the other hand, got some serious nerves, especially when Dave wanted to watch the news so we’d have an idea what kind of weather to expect. Between your daddy’s quiet and Charlie’s jitters, I was starting to think the weekend was gonna be a bust.

“The next morning we ate breakfast and then headed out. It looked like whatever was eating at your daddy was finally leaving him alone. Charlie, though. Something was up with him. I didn’t know what it was, but I figured I’d talk with him after we got settled in. Maybe I could help him with whatever it was. I never got the chance, though. I wish I had. Sometimes I think it might have made a difference. Most times, though, I’m just as sure it wouldn’t.”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “It started out well enough. I took over the driving when we got to Blankton. It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining and the radio said it was going to be clear and bright all weekend. It wasn’t even cold, although November was almost gone…”

 CHAPTER FOUR

Fred Kyle’s teeth jammed together hard as the Jeep Cherokee’s right front tire dropped into another half moon shaped cutaway at the edge of the two-lane asphalt road. His knuckles whitened as he squeezed the steering wheel. The Jeep crowded the non-existent shoulder as another semi roared by them. The wash of its passage pushed the truck further to the right. Fred wrenched the wheel hard, jerking the vehicle back onto the asphalt. He glanced at the afternoon sky. Evening came quickly this time of year. He wanted to get to the house while there was enough light to see the driveway. He accelerated, pushing the truck as fast as he dared on the unfamiliar road.

He was surprised at how much and how quickly the hills had changed from one season to the next. When he and his mom drove up to see the house a few months earlier it was July – high summer. The trees formed a shadowy canopy over the road. Lush plants and thick underbrush crowded the blacktop and hid most of the mountain’s rocky outcroppings. Tiny freshets cascaded down the mountainside. Narrow rivulets flowed across the road.

Now, it was late fall. Winter’s icy breath was barely four weeks away. The once full trees stretched skeletal arms towards the gray sky. Like green ghosts of summer past, tall evergreens stood silent sentinel against winter’s inexorable approach. The cheery springs spilling down the bare rocks now foretold treacherous icy ambushes for the unwary traveler. The vibrant underbrush was sere. Browns and grays and an occasional splash of green marked thorny thickets of blackberry vines. The once-verdant leaves of summer now formed a crisp ochre carpet beneath the bare trees.

Dave Willets leaned slightly to his left. He’d steadfastly refused to look out of the passenger window after the first couple of miles. On their left the mountain rose steadily above them, sheer where the striated gray limestone had been cut to lay the road. A single, white-painted cable looped from one short post to the next marking the roadway’s right edge. Beyond that boundary the trees rose straight up from an unseen canyon floor. During the summer, when the foliage was full, the view was not so bad. At the near edge of winter, however, Dave could clearly see a lot of down and down and still more down. Despite nearly ten years of travel through the Ozarks in northern Arkansas, Dave found the narrow roads in eastern Tennessee scarier, more nerve-racking. Perhaps it was the close passage of oncoming traffic, especially the big rigs that raced down the highway as if it was a NASCAR straightaway. He shuddered as he recalled that moonshine runners who carried their illicit cargos over these very roads at night – without headlights – created NASCAR.

“God, how much further is it?” Dave pushed the words through his clenched teeth.

“Don’t you mean, are we there, yet?” Peete Davis chided from the back seat.

“No, I don’t.” Dave turned. “What I mean is, when are we getting off this highway from Hell?”

“Just another couple of miles,” Fred replied. He glanced at Dave and smiled. “We turn left at Flowersville. That’s when we leave the asphalt and the road gets really fun.”