Strange in Skin (22 page)

“You need another one?”

I looked up. The bartender stood directly in front of me, motioning toward the glass sitting in front
of me. I looked at my drink. It was almost gone. I had drunk it already. Panic seized me. This would
surely draw attention to me. I didn’t want to speak, to move, to breathe.

“No, thanks, I’m good,” I whispered.
“You sure?”
I wanted to scream. Just go away already. “Yeah.”

The group of men were suddenly quiet, a little too quiet. I could feel their stares burning a hole into
the side of my face.
Stupid bartender,
I thought. I turned my head to look at them. They were all
turned facing me, Buck Brady in the front. We made eye contact.

He grinned and walked over to me. He slammed a mason jar full of beer onto the counter beside
me. “Well, well, look who it is!” he bellowed out.

 

He was drunk for sure. I supposed he had figured he had had a long, difficult day as well. I turned
my head around and tried to look away. Everyone else seemed to be staring at us too.

“I can’t believe perfect, little, Christian girl is sitting here having a drink!” Buck yelled, laughing
hysterically at himself. The rest of the men were still in place where they had been before, staring at
us. “Gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is none other than Anna James.” He patted
me on the back and a snarled laugh escaped from his throat.

I remained silent and perfectly still. If I made a run for it now, would they follow me? I didn’t want
to face them outside in the cold. I’d rather be in here in front of witnesses. Buck seemed a little too
unstable. I bet he would follow me just to harass me further. I cursed myself for having made the
choice to come here. I would have rather faced my family. Something told me this wasn’t going to be
pretty. I made eye contact briefly with the bartender who then quickly looked away and made a little
more distance between us.

“Need a little pick me up after the day?” Buck asked, still thinking his own words were hilarious
for some reason.
“Leave me alone, Buck.”

“Aw, what’s the matter, Anna? Have you come to drink your woes away? Thinking about never
seeing your precious Emry Logan again?”

I could feel his prodding in my temples as they began to ache. I caught a glimpse of the silent group
of men standing behind him just watching. They seemed concerned that I was here. Perhaps they were
policemen, too. They probably knew everything. Maybe it had been me they had been discussing
when they first came in the door. Maybe they hated Emry like Buck did and hated me too. I decided
not to give Buck the pleasure of any sort of answer. Allowing him to have the knowledge that he was
getting to me would only make things worse. Give him the satisfaction of having been able to stir up
my emotions again, and he’d probably harass me all night then. If I didn’t give him that satisfaction,
maybe him and his group of hoodlums would leave.

“I can’t believe it’s been Emry Logan this whole time.” Buck snorted and then threw his hand down
on the counter, the beer in his glass shaking as he did so. “He’s sick,” he said, his eyes burning with
fury and hatred. “A sick freak.”

It was obvious that Emry’s slamming Buck into a tree had not been overlooked. Buck had been
afraid of Emry that night and ran away. He had been a coward, and he knew it.

 

“He deserves to rot in jail for the rest of his life, whatever his life even means,” he mumbled,
picking up his drink and chugging down the remainder of its contents.

One of the other men from the group came over and filled up Buck’s cup with more beer from a
pitcher. He lingered there to listen to what was going on. Buck didn’t even seem to notice that he was
there. He continued to point his finger in my face as he talked.

“You have no idea how he’s using you,” Buck went on. “It seriously makes me sick to my stomach
to have seen you … kissing him.” He gave a disgusted face like he was about to vomit before picking
up his now full glass and taking a few more gulps. “What the hell is the matter with you? I don’t even
recognize you.”

“You don’t even know me, Buck,” I told him.

 

“I grew up with you. I know you. I know your family.” He shook his head. “I try to kiss you and you
give me a black eye, but you’ll kiss Emry Logan?” He turned around in a circle as if he were in pain.
So there was a little jealousy combined in there with everything else. I had ruined his self esteem
that night with the whole he cooked me dinner thing.

 

“Freak of nature. Right?” He looked to the other guy standing there for reassurance who only
nodded, his eyes fixated on me. “And your daddy gets you off the hook, as always.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped. “When has he
ever
gotten me off the hook before?” I
glared at him then. I didn’t care if he was drunk, his assumptions were ludicrous.

 

He snorted out a chuckle as if I were a hypocrite. “You’re a spoiled brat. It’s almost like you’re an
only child in that house with Matthew. I bet you’re glad he is the way he is.”

 

I stood up just then, fury now pulsating through me as I looked him straight in the eye. “You would
sink so low as to bring Matthew into this, you cold-hearted bastard.”

His smirk disappeared as if he had realized what he said. He saw the other men looking at him and
instantly shook off whatever guilt I had placed on his conscience. “You disgust me.” He spit on the
floor. “It’s pathetic how stupid you are. You choose someone like Emry Logan to be with, a monster.
You’re clueless.”

“Enlighten me. Please.”

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he began. “I thought he had broke my shoulder from that tree, but then, I
hadn’t seen him hit me or anything. It was weird. Something that’s never happened before.”
I tried to keep eye contact, afraid he’d lose his train of thought and stop feeding me information if I
looked away.
“It’s a good thing I found that witchy woman,” he continued. “She knew what he was, what to do.”

“What witchy woman?” I asked.

 

He ignored me, speaking even louder. “We couldn’t let his kind continue about in Seneca. No, we
had to rid our society of him. He needed to be locked up and for good.”

 

“You think he’s dangerous?”

He snorted. “Of course he’s dangerous! That’s how you like them though, don’t you, Anna? You
like the thrill of chance, the ones with all the magical powers. Don’t you worry, we got him rounded
up good. We only hunt to capture and never release.”

“You have a big mouth, Mr. Brady.”

We both turned toward the sound of the voice. Mrs. Anderson strolled through the door as she
carelessly came our way. She wasn’t the least intimidated by the group of intoxicated men beside me.
I narrowed my eyes at her. Then I suddenly put the pieces together. Mrs. Anderson was Buck’s
“witchy woman.”

“Gather up your things now and be on your way,” she instructed him in a very calm fashion, placing
one palm on Buck’s back and guiding him toward the others.

Buck looked as though he had instantly sobered up. His eyes looked full of shame now as he said
nothing more, just did as he was told and strolled over to the corner of the counter where the others
were putting on their winter hats and gloves. I watched in awe at the power she seemed to have over
each and every one of them. Was that the same kind of control she had over my father as well? Then
one by one they turned and almost formed a line as they walked toward the door without glancing my
way again. Mrs. Anderson was the last one in line. She gave me a quick look as she strolled by. Our
eyes met for a second. I couldn’t get any kind of read on her. There was no facial expression at all.
There was something peculiar about the way she moved and the way she spoke. She was a witchy
kind of strange, as Buck had described her. I sat there for a moment, contemplating the words he had
used.
We only hunt to capture and never release.
A modern day witch hunt. Only Mrs. Anderson was
the witch and Emry was the one she had made everyone believe was the threat, not her. They listened
to her. Did she have some sort of spell over them? I wasn’t so quick to rule it out as I would have
been yesterday. Today was a big eye opener for me, a revelation. Things weren’t what they seemed.
There was magic and mystery in the world, even if it wasn’t given birth in this world, it still lingered
here and walked among us. Seneca, the new Salem. And they weren’t done with my Emry yet.

Chapter 11

I woke up the next morning realizing I had slept in. It was nearly 10:00. I couldn’t remember the
last time I had slept that late. The sun illuminated my room as I opened my eyes and winced. I had left
the curtains open last night, something I couldn’t ever remember doing before.

I sat up in bed and took a moment to gather my thoughts. What time had I finally had the courage to
leave the bar and find my way home last night? I had sat there and thought about Buck and Mrs.
Anderson for hours drinking a few more rum and Cokes in the meantime. I remember pulling in front
of the house and not seeing a single light on. I remember trying to be careful as to not make any noise
when entering the house, and I also recalled how I had tripped over a stray shoe right inside the
doorway and making a loud thump as I tumbled to the hardwood floor, but no one came to see what
had happened. Everyone had been asleep. I had wondered what my father had told my family of our
eventful day in Seneca County Prison. I didn’t know how I should act or what kinds of things Carlin
would say to me if she did know.

I sat still and listened. Silence. Had everyone just let me sleep and gone about their day without the
slightest curiosity of my well-being or where I had been late last night without even a phone call to
tell them I was all right? I jumped out of bed and made my way to the hallway. My hair stunk of
cigarette smoke and my mouth stuck together miserably from the aftertaste of the rum.

I took a peek inside my mother’s bedroom. The bed was neatly made and everything tidied up. I
tiptoed downstairs. The TV was off, and there was no one in either the dining room or kitchen. The
dishes were stacked up on a thick white towel, some still dripping. Everyone was gone for the day,
even Matthew. I felt relieved, yet slightly uneasy about the situation. I rubbed my eyes as if to
persuade myself that I wasn’t still asleep. This house was rarely empty. I couldn’t help but feel
slightly abandoned at the moment.

I took the opportunity to go back upstairs and take a long, hot shower. I needed to get ready for
today’s to-do list. I pushed the thoughts of my family to the furthest corners of my mind and brought
back the details of what I had decided to do. I had to find out exactly what was going on. Today I
would go give Lainey Tritt a little visit.

Pulling my car into the driveway that belonged to the little run-down home, my stomach fluttered
with a sensation of anxiety. I wasn’t sure exactly why. Perhaps it was because this was the place that
Emry had grown up, where he had spent his time as a child and a teenager, or perhaps it was because
it had an eerie appearance to it that made me want to turn around. Was I at the wrong place? No, this
was the right house for certain. The mailbox said TRITT in large, handwritten white letters. I pulled
my car up to the top of the driveway and turned off the motor. I stepped out into the cold air and let my
lungs take a refreshing deep breath as my eyes studied the exterior of the home.

It was small and looked almost unbalanced as the top where the foundation stuck out of the ground
on one side didn’t match the opposite side. It was as if the one end was sinking into the ground little
by little. It had jagged grayish siding that was peeling off in sections and a roof that also had missing
shingles in spots. There was one single window facing this part of the house, and it was closed by
pale yellow curtains from the inside. A stray chicken brushed past my foot just then, making me jump.
I looked down at it for a moment curiously. I watched as a few other hens came around the corner of
the yard to follow that one.

There was an old shed to the far right of the yard. It was falling down and obviously hadn’t been
maintained in years. I imagined that there had been animals in there at one time or another. Perhaps
cows? Horses? My eyes shifted to large rocks sticking out of the snow and forming a line around the
house. I stepped on each one as they led me to the front porch, which was just as broken as the rest of
the place. I cautiously stepped up onto the floor of the porch hoping I wouldn’t fall through. The
screen door groaned painfully as I pried it open. I searched for a doorbell. There wasn’t one, so I
lifted my fist and tapped lightly on the door.

No answer. An old run-down red Ford truck was parked on the other side of the house. It must have
been from the 1950s I guessed. I pounded on the door a little louder this time.

I backed away as I heard the door being unlocked and opened. A frail, elderly woman with
frazzled, long gray hair sticking up every which way possible gave me a blank stare as I stood before
her.

“Yes?” she asked, annoyed or angry that I had disturbed her, I wasn’t sure.
“Um, hi,” I said. “Are you Lainey Tritt?”
Her thick eyebrows raised above the large glasses that sat on her nose. “Do I know you?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m, uh … a friend of Emry’s, and I wanted to know if you could answer a
few questions for me.”

“You’ll have to speak up,” she said, pointing to her left ear. “Hard of hearing.”
I sighed, frustrated already. “I know Emry,” I said more clearly and with more volume this time.

“Oh.” She smiled, revealing a row of half-rotted, half-missing front teeth. “Well, come on in.” She
stepped back from the door so I could go inside.

It was cold and damp in the house, and I realized that Lainey was wearing a heavy coat.
She
probably is unable to keep a good fire going herself
, I thought. The house was a mess and very dirty.
A few cats glared at me as I strolled by them, their only movement the flicker of their tails as they
eyed me up.