Rogue's Hollow (5 page)

Picking up a couple of the pieces of wood from the ground, Malachi wiped them off on his flannel shirt. He looked at Travis over the top rim of his glasses. “Ever done any whittling?”

“Nope, never. But, I’d like to try it.”

Malachi took two carving knives from his tool box and handed one to Travis. “Be careful with this now, these are razor sharp. It gets hard working with small pieces like this. I’ve taken some pretty good chunks out of my fingers when the knife slips. Not that you would probably even notice, with your high pain tolerance and all.” He grinned at Travis.

He looked over at Malachi and felt surprisingly proud of himself. “What do I carve?”

“Whatever strikes your fancy. But, try to carve away from your body.” Malachi shared his insights with Travis. “Whittlers believe that the wood will speak to you. The design already exists, trapped deep within the grain. It is the whittler's mission to let it out. Sometimes I carve a design, or some sort of pattern. If I’m real lazy and uninspired, I just carve a cross on it. Folks seem to love the religious stuff, makes them feel extra protected out here at night.”

Travis went straight to work carving his amulet. He studied it with intensity, and then slowly slid the knife over the wood with great caution.

Malachi couldn’t help but smile as he watched the focus on the young man’s face as he accepted this task with great honor.

Travis began his carving adventure with his annoying, twitching leg. But soon, he realized that it was not possible to carve accurately with the constant jittering. Unconsciously, his leg calmed and eventually stopped shaking all together.

Malachi watched patiently as the nervous young man eagerly transformed into a confident carver. He gave Travis tips and hints on carving and he lapped them up like a thirsty hound dog on a hot July day.

The smell of fresh cut wood filled the air as Travis worked that slice down to a nub. He carved an interesting woven, crisscross design that was quite unique.

Malachi inspected the finished piece and praised him, “Excellent job, Travis. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

The young man brushed straggling bangs from his face and smiled. “Really? Do you think it’s any good?”

“No, it’s not good, Travis. It’s great! A real work of art, son. Good job.” Malachi patted him on the back and handed it to him. “You keep this. This is your amulet. Your good luck charm and protector.”

Travis took the piece in his hand and rubbed it, as though he were making a wish. His face lit up as he looked at Malachi and said, “Thanks. It’s really cool.”

As Malachi turned to grab a can of linseed oil, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited Travis was about the amulet. He picked up a rag and showed his young friend how to rub the oil on the wood to protect it. The grain darkened and the details emerged in the sunlight, like a buried treasure that had just been uncovered.

Travis stared at the wood with great admiration as he rubbed the oil into the nooks and crannies. 

Malachi smiled as he gathered up his things. “Time to open up the store. You’re welcome to hang around if you’d like.”

Travis shook his head. “I’d better head out. I need to go to the store and get some groceries. The fridge is pretty bare.”

Nodding, Malachi gathered several more pieces of wood from the ground. He handed them to Travis, along with a carving knife and said, “Here, take these with you. Keep whittling, if you have some spare time. I’ll make a deal with you. I will give you three bucks for every amulet that you carve. Honestly, I can use all the help I can get.”

Travis appeared happy with the offer and nodded. “You’ve got a deal.”

As the young man walked off, Malachi didn’t really know if he’d ever see him again. Maybe he had just given away a perfectly good carving knife. But, he had a funny feeling that Travis would be back.

Malachi opened the store and sat out front, continuing to work on his amulets. As wood shavings littered his old boots, he couldn’t get the kid out of his mind. Those big brown eyes seemed to hold a lifetime of experience and way too much pain.

With a deep sigh, he paused for a moment and stared off into the forest that had become his solitude. His heart grew heavy as he wondered,
what would Lukas have looked like at that age?

Five

L
ate the following Friday afternoon, Malachi closed up shop and stepped outside to spend some time communing with Mother Nature. He gathered his toolbox, fired Rosie up and headed to the bridge to work on his cryptics. The air was becoming crisp and cool, and tourist visits were steadily increasing. He needed to be prepared for another big weekend.

Enjoying the sunshine that streamed through the window, he rounded a bend in the curvy country road and patted the dashboard, telling Rosie how great she was running. She had always been one friend that he could always count on.

As he turned a tight curve, he saw a scuffle up ahead, just beyond the bridge. One person was standing and two were down on the ground engaged in what appeared to be a fist fight. Malachi pulled Rosie up alongside them and parked. Looking over, he noticed the red-headed deviant that he’d seen before, the one who’d stolen from his store. As soon as he stepped out of his truck he was met with hostility by another boy. “Get outta here old man, if you know what’s good for you. Junior’s on a roll and he’s not afraid to take you down, too.”

Malachi nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.” He reached into the glove box and pulled out a small hand gun. Walking around to the other side of the truck, he found Junior pounding a kid’s head into the pavement. Slowly, he stepped up behind him and cocked the gun, letting him know that he meant business.

Junior’s hands flew into the air, as if he were surrendering.

“Get your miserable hands off him, you worthless thief.”

The kid slowly rose to his feet, leaving the victim writhing in pain on the ground.

Malachi pressed the cold metal into the back of Junior’s head and growled, “If I ever catch you here again, I won’t hesitate for a minute to use this on you.” Then he raised his voice and startled the kid. “Do you understand me, punk?”

Junior jumped and slowly nodded his head, terrified to move. He was tough with his mouth and fists, but he’d never encountered a pistol to his head before.

Malachi pulled the gun away and kicked him in the butt. “Now get the hell outta my hollow before you really tick me off!”

Junior and the other boy ran to their car and peeled out, without saying another word. Malachi knew that wasn’t the last he’d see of them. They’d be back with a vengeance. That’s how their kind was bred. This area was riddled with descendants of coal miners; these local kids came from a long line of rabble rousers. Malachi hated confrontation, but he just couldn’t stand idly by and watch injustice take place right before his eyes.

The car sped off down the road, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. Malachi stashed the gun in the back of his jean’s waistband, kicked some beer and spray paint cans out of the way and went to help the kid up off the ground. As he extended his hand to help him, there was a hint of recognition in the face. It was tough to make out at first. But, through the cuts and blood, he realized that it was Travis.

“What the hell, son! Travis, is that you?”

Travis tried to nod as he spit out a mouthful of blood into the dirt.

“Dear Lord, come on. Let’s get you to the truck.”

Malachi got him settled into the passenger seat and drove quickly back to the old mill. Pulling directly up to the front door, he helped Travis inside and led him to his small kitchen in the back of the building. Travis grabbed some napkins and leaned his head back, trying to stop his nose from bleeding, while Malachi frantically searched for his first-aid kit.

He was no nurse, but living out here on his own had given him plenty of opportunity to practice his backwoods medical skills. Opening his homemade medical kit, he went straight to work. It was difficult to assess where to begin. Travis’s face was nothing short of a mess.

Travis winced as Malachi rubbed the wounds with disinfectant pads.

“I know it hurts, son. But, we’ve got to get you cleaned up. Hang in there.”

Malachi cleaned the wounds as best he could. Then it was time to inspect the damage thoroughly and see just how bad it really was. Malachi tugged gently at the skin to see how deep the gashes were. With every little movement they began to bleed profusely, forcing Malachi to hold pressure on them which made Travis squirm in his seat in pain.

Looking over the top of his glasses, Malachi apologized. “I’m sorry to hurt you, son. You definitely could use a few stitches. These cuts are pretty deep. I can butterfly the wounds, but it probably won’t hold. Or, I can stitch you up myself, but I’m not gonna lie to you, it will hurt.”

Travis nodded and said, “You do it.” Even though he was in an incredible amount of pain, he never once complained.

Malachi held ice on the skin around the cuts, trying to numb it the best he could. He knew that it wouldn’t kill all the pain, but it might take the edge off and make it tolerable. He’d never stitched anyone else up before and did his best to be as gentle as possible. With his reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose, he went to work. He didn’t try to talk to the teenager while he tended to him. The lacerations were fairly deep and gaping open. There was a hefty gash above his right eyebrow and his left cheek was sliced along the cheekbone.

It was a struggle for Malachi to force the edges of the swollen cuts together enough so that he could even attempt to stitch them. He ran the needle and thread under a stream of vodka for sterilization. Travis grimaced in pain and panted every time the needle pierced through his tender skin. Clutching the arms of his chair, he held on so tightly that his fingers went pale. The wounds bled profusely with every stitch that Malachi pulled through his flesh. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but that could only go so far.

Malachi dabbed a cotton ball saturated with vodka on the cuts to stop the bleeding and to keep it sterilized. The alcohol burned and an occasional tear trailed down Travis’s cheek. He was trying to be so brave, but it hurt worse than anything he’d ever experienced.

Over the years, Malachi had been brave enough to stitch himself up a few times, when need be. He knew that it was torture. Usually he would down a couple shots of vodka first to take the edge off the pain. Travis was enduring this cold turkey. He really must have a high pain tolerance, or maybe he was just used to suffering.

After five carefully placed stitches, he knotted the last thread and proclaimed that he was finished. “Travis, you have to be careful for a while. If these don’t hold, you need to get a doctor to stitch you up properly. You’ve got quite a goose-egg on the back of your head. You might have a concussion, or even a fracture. You really should be checked out by a professional.”

Slowly shaking his head, Travis said, “We don’t have insurance. My mom would have a fit if I racked up a big medical bill.”

Malachi nodded, understanding full well what it felt like to have to watch your money. “What about your ribs, Travis? Did he get you in the ribs, or chest?”

“Not too much. He was mainly focused on smashing in my skull.”

“Yeah, he did mess up your pretty face. You’re going to have a scar on your cheek.” Trying to be reassuring, he continued, “But that’s okay. Girls find scars sexy.”

Travis attempted to smile, which caused him to wince in pain. “Ouch.”

Malachi went to the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. He handed Travis two of them, with a glass of water and said, “Take these. It will help with the pain and inflammation.”

Travis swigged them down.

Malachi grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer. “Here, use these like an ice pack to keep the swelling down.”

“Seriously, thanks for everything. You probably saved my ass out there today. Then you bring me back here and fix me up like this. I owe you.”

“It’s all good, son.” Malachi said with a little nod. “I just hope that you’re okay.”

Travis brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “Ah, it’s nothing. I’ve endured Junior Barnett’s wrath many times. I’ll survive.”

Malachi scowled at him and let out a big sigh. He folded up his glasses and tucked them neatly away in the chest pocket of his faded flannel shirt. “What happened out there, Travis? Why was he so angry with you?”

He shrugged. “Jeremy was bored and headed out this way. I asked if I could tag along. As luck would have it, just as we were pulling out, Junior jumped in the backseat and Jeremy let him ride along. When we got to Cry Baby Bridge, they stopped to drink some beer. Junior wanted to drive. He said that he was responsible and would never drink and drive. He’d just stop and throw a few back and then drive around tipsy. That was his asinine idea of responsibility.”

Malachi laughed at how absurd that sounded.

Travis agreed, “I know, right? The guy’s a real douchebag and Jeremy is too afraid of him to tell him no.”

“So why was he wailing on you like that?”

“He got a little buzzed and then started with the spray paint. I told him to stop it and that royally pissed him off. He doesn’t like anyone telling him what to do. Junior has a real short fuse and I lit it and forgot to run. He had me on the ground slamming me before I even knew what hit me.”

“I can’t figure out how he cut you like that with his fists.”

“He’s just a lard ass. His punches alone don’t amount to a whole lot, but he likes to wear this old skull and crossbones ring on his middle finger. It’s got a raised edge on it and if he hits you just right it’ll rip through your flesh. Guess he hit me just right.”

Malachi shook his head. “The kid’s a real roughian. I always say that it’s better to be pissed off, than pissed on. But, in your case, I’m not sure that’s true.”

Travis tried to laugh and winced in pain. Once the tenderness subsided, he took a few shallow breaths and began to relax again. Slowly, he reached into his pockets and pulled something out. He extended his hand towards Malachi and opened it. Four amulets dropped into Malachi’s waiting palm. He looked at Travis, confused.

“I finished those. That’s why I bummed a ride from Jeremy, so I could bring them to you. Do they look okay?”

Malachi leaned back in his chair, dumbfounded. He put his reading glasses back on and inspected each one meticulously. He could see how hard the young man had worked on each one of them. Slowly removing his glasses, he laid them down on the small dining table and smiled at Travis. “No, they’re not okay. They’re nowhere near okay. They are exquisite.”

“Yeah, right.”

“One thing that I will never do is lie to you, Travis. You have my word on that. These are the finest specimens I’ve ever seen.” He took a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to him. “Thank you.”

“That’s too much, Malachi. And really, I don’t want any money for them at all. I just really enjoyed doing it. Can I carve some more?”

“Only if you’ll let me pay you for your hard work. You have quite a talent, Travis.”

He rolled his eyes but looked intently at Malachi, trying to decide if he was for real or not. His inquiring stare turned into a satisfied grin when he saw that Malachi was very serious about his praise. Travis sat up straight in his chair and pain once again grabbed hold of his soul.

“Take it easy, son. Do you feel sick to your stomach?”

Travis shook his head.

Malachi looked into each eye and questioned him about his vision, then stated, “I don’t think you have a concussion. Would you like to lie down and rest for a bit, and then I’ll drive you home?”

Slowly, he nodded, like he’d been defeated in battle.

“Come and lay down in the guest room. The bed’s all made up. You can rest here as long as you’d like.”

Malachi led him to a small bedroom just off the kitchen. He pulled back the blankets and Travis sat down. Without hesitation, Malachi knelt on his knees and helped Travis take his shoes off.

Gingerly, he lay back on the bed, groaning in pain with every move. When he was settled, Malachi pulled the covers up over him and asked, “Do you want me to call your mom?”

Travis shook his head. “No, she’s working a double today. I’ll be fine. I just need to rest for a bit, if that’s okay?”

Malachi turned off the light, and said, “That’s fine, son. I’m right out here if you need me.” He closed the door and left the young man to rest.