The Haunting of Ashton David (3 page)

Humming, she went to visit the utility closet one more time to retrieve a broom, dustpan, and garbage sack.

By twelve-thirty she’d filled the sack with dirt and leaves, and the entry sparkled like she used to remember as a kid. The mop water was black and she wondered why Ashton hadn’t utilized some of his energy inside the home. Her armpits were sweaty and her shoulders sore.

Hungry she assumed Ashton would be also. Digging around in the kitchen she found eggs, milk, butter, and steak and hoped that wasn’t all his diet consisted of. Cooking would be something nice she could do for him, and it would serve as therapy for herself after having witnessed the torture as loss and grief worked its way through his body.

In one of the cupboards she found cornmeal and decided to make her grandmother’s chess pie. As she recalled, it had been one of his favorites. She wished she’d picked a Meyer lemon from the tree in her yard this morning so she’d have it now, but of course she hadn’t anticipated any of this.

She set the oven preheating at three-fifty, and mixed the ingredients for the crust from memory, having made countless pies with her grandmother. She dusted the marble countertop with flower and rolled the dough roughly into shape. She loved working in this kitchen because all of the windows afforded grand views of the vast alley of oaks that formed the front and side yards of the house.

Once the crust was prepared she started in on the pie. She tasted the milk to ensure it’s freshness and realized that he was drinking fresh cow’s milk. The stuff didn’t last long, but her experienced palate confirmed the pitcher of milk on the counter was in fact fresh.

“Was he completely self sufficient now?”
The eggs were from the yard and she’d watched him slaughter a cow by hand, so she thought maybe he was.

With the pie baking away in the oven she slathered a huge rib eye steak with butter and sprinkled it with salt and pepper. Then she placed the pan under the broiler.

“This is no Mediterranean diet he’s following.”

She shook her head, hoping that she’d be able to turn his diet around before she started her new job in the fall.

The buzzer from the dryer went off and she was able to put her own clothes back on. Now that the day had turned cloudy, her feet had grown cold, but the thick socks felt blissfully warm. Not wanting her boots to dry all catawampus, she slid her feet into them with a grimace.

“
Wet feet are not fun
,” she pouted.

The scents in the kitchen were glorious. Checking on the pie she inserted a toothpick into the golden center. The resulting pick came out clean so she removed the pie and set it on the stove to cool. From the smell of things the steak was also done.

Donning a large oven mit she retrieved the steak from beneath the broiler. It popped and sizzled in the butter. The caramelization of the fat made her mouth water. The slogan “
be heart smart
” drifted across her mind and again she pondered what the coronary consequences might be if this menu was typical of his diet.

A door slammed in the distance followed by his loud bellow, “Goddammit, Courtney! I told you to get lost! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?”

Harmony’s heart fluttered in her chest at his gruff voice and expletives she’d never before heard him utter. She didn’t want to be a coward, but at the pounding of heavy feet down the hallway her body responded with the flight reflex. She ran as fast as her feet would take her from the house and to the precious cover of the woods.

She hopped on the mule and started it up, taking off with a start and not caring what gardening items fell from the trailer. By the time she was back on Clark land she realized there wasn’t a beast named Ashton barreling down the field behind her. She slowed her speed and inhaled long and deep. Clutching her chest she willed her heart to slow. She was glad to be meeting her friends and brother at a local winery tonight to get her mind off of the dilemma that was Ashton Benjamin David. While she wouldn’t divulge his secrets to her friends, mingling with them would provide some much needed distraction.

Ashton walked through the archway to the large industrial kitchen expecting to see his blond cousin nosing into his cabinets and freezer, but she wasn’t there. Turning to walk out he spied a large steak and a freshly baked pie on the stovetop.

The butter was still popping in the pan the steak had broiled in.

“
Dammit to hell
!” It was the prized perfectly-marbled rib eye that he’d been saving for his birthday, or some such occasion when he’d need something positive to lift his spirits. On the other hand, he was hungry as hell and as the scent of broiled meat hit his nostrils his stomach panged.

He placed potholders in his hands and carried the food to the counter. Ready to eat, he retrieved a knife and fork, and then filled a glass with tap water before taking a seat on a stool. He sliced through the steak and forked a good-sized bite. The first chew released the heavenly juices into his mouth. To his taste buds, David cattle was better than any other he’d ever eaten. Given that it took up the entire plate, Ashton was sure the steak weighed over four pounds.

Despite his best efforts, he’d only managed to eat a quarter of the steak—he foresaw steak and eggs in his future. At least she’d flawlessly prepared it. He’d have been livid if she’d overcooked it. He downed the glass of water and cleaned up, wrapping the steak and placing it in the fridge for later.

With his stomach no longer growling he was prepared to leave the kitchen, except that the pie on the counter called to him. Standing he placed his elbows on the counter and pulled the pie under his nose. It smelled like warmed sugar. He reached for a fork, and then scooped up a bite of pie.

Immediately he was catapulted into the past to a butter-yellow kitchen made slightly warm by the baking oven. A sweet older woman with honeyed eyes stared down on him as he sat at her kitchen table. She always smelled of lemons because she had a citrus grove and was forever adding lemon to any and everything. He’d seen her rub a cut lemon across her white tile counters, stating the acid in the fruits cleaned better than any solution she could buy.

“Care for another slice?”

“Yes ma’am. I love your chess pie.”

“You should get Harmony to make it for you sometime, she’s capable.”

He turned his attention toward his girlfriend as her grandmother filled his plate. “Been holding out on me, I see.”

She giggled and her dimples deepened, her slightly crooked smile only adding to her allure. He’d loved her like no man had ever loved a woman. He stopped the fork full of golden pie in mid air as his mind turned to another memory, one not nearly as sweet—the image of Deputy Clark arresting his father. He dropped the fork and slid the entire pie, pan and all, into the trash.

He walked to the den and turned the playlist to Lucinda Williams. Settling into the couch he read from the file he’d been sent by the firm he’d hired to prepare the required documents for crude oil extraction. As he read he realized his neighboring relatives were relinquishing their mineral rights to him.

He wondered why they would do such a thing. His uncle, Britton David, was a good man and he assumed he just wasn’t interested in oil production. Still, Ashton resolved to send him a fair market percentage for the extracted product. Neither of the David estates needed the money, however. Ashton had been pleased with the discovery because the legality and education surrounding the entire process had filled his days and nights.

As he read from the document his eyelids grew heavy. When he realized they were trying to close he redoubled his efforts to read the record. He didn’t sleep much, just napped here and there. As a result whenever his body stopped for any time at all, it tried to shut down and take its much-needed sleep.

He couldn’t afford to fall into a deep sleep these days, for every time he did he woke in the middle of a night terror so crippling with fear that sometimes he didn’t even know where he was. He shuddered recalling how bad the last one had been—his eyes had lost their ability to focus, leaving him blind as he plunged into the depths of despair.

Reading the document he realized he could begin pumping now that all the legal parameters had been secured. A twinge of excitement curled in his belly. He’d had the rig set up for weeks and had been dying to test it out. Everything was ready to go and the tanks were waiting to be filled. He’d start on it first thing tomorrow. He prided himself on independently handling all aspects of the project. His brothers certainly didn’t care how he handled the estate. He suspected he’d only hear from them in the event the monthly deposits to their accounts stopped. Of course the money wouldn’t stop flowing since he’d just solidified the mineral rights to the crude running beneath David land.

“Hey Dad, why don’t I take the wheel, huh?”

“I’m perfectly fine to drive this rig.” He gestured to the suburban. “Everybody pile in.”

“It’s just me and Mom. The others are going to stay with aunt Frances for the weekend.”

“You didn’t want to stay?” His mother asked as she brushed a rogue section of hair from his forehead.

“I have practice.”

“They called a practice on the holiday weekend?” His mom felt his pain like only she could.

“Coach got mad because we were unorganized at the last game.”

“Oh well how about we go through the line at Dairy Queen and get you a cookie dough blizzard?” She placed her arm around his waist and whispered in his ear. “Secretly, I really need an Oreo blizzard.”

“I may be about to turn eighteen, but that doesn’t mean I’d turn down that offer.”

She kissed his cheek and he smelled the Attar de Roses perfume she wore. “When will Harmony be back? You’ve been kind of quiet since she’s been away.”

“She said her grandparents rented the beach cabin through the tenth of July, but I’m trying to entice her to ride back with her father, who has to be at work on Monday.”

“I hope she makes it Monday so you can get back to normal. You two have a connection. You’re two halves of one body.”

“I know.”

“I think we’ve lost your father.”

“No we haven’t. He’s just taking a piss out by that grove of trees.” Ashton pointed.

“Good God, Ashton! Go and get him!”

Ashton complied, but more than once he’d thought his parents drank way too much.

“Dad?” He heard his father zip his pants. “I’m coming. Just had to take a leak.”

He staggered back up the small hill. “Why don’t you let me drive? I’ll take it slow.”

Boisterous laughter erupted from his father’s chest. “I just got this thing off the showroom floor today, son. I’m driving. End of story.”

End of story
. Well he’d tried.
Weren’t parents supposed to be responsible
? Ashton knew his mom and dad had sat around drinking and smoking pot with their friends tonight. Luckily it was less than five miles back home.

“I want Dairy Queen.”

“I believe I’ve heard that somewhere before.”

“Ashton wants it too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that is so.”

Ashton watched his mother’s arm lace through his father’s as he started the engine. He leaned over and kissed her lips. “Blizzards coming right up, Mrs. David.”

The Dairy Queen, however, was not near the house. They’d have to get on the highway. From the backseat Ashton resolved to be his father’s eyes.

A few uneven swerves and a near incident with an Oldsmobile and they were pulling into the drive-through. Ashton exhaled the breath he’d been holding and moved over behind his father to take a look at the menu. “Ooh, I’d like to try the cookie dough cheesecake.”

On the ride back to the house Ashton was so focused on his cookie dough concoction that he neglected his previous post. He smiled as his mother’s moans of appreciation for her Oreo blizzard filled the cabin.

He should have refastened his seatbelt after he switched seats, but he hadn’t. Headlights shone where they never had before when he’d ridden in the backseat, and then his ears localized the sound of a horn blowing before his hearing failed him altogether. His body lifted from the seat despite his efforts to grip the headrest in front of him. He felt hard pellets hitting the exposed skin of the right side of his face, arms, and legs. The sound of metal hitting metal was so loud it made his ears scream. His shoulder rammed hard into the door, scraping and burning on impact. His face he knew would hit against the broken window, but he couldn’t pull back and his cheek hit the jagged glass. Warm water gushed into his eyes, making his vision blurry.

His body finally stilled. Muffled voices came to him like he was underwater. His face was wet, but his eyes confirmed there was no water around him. He reached his hand to his cheek and felt the moisture. Removing his hand he saw lots of blood. His blood.
Not water
.

He tried to call for his dad, but his voice carried no sound. To his relief his body still worked and he used his strength to pull himself up.

His dad was hunched over the steering wheel, but he wasn’t speaking. He pulled him using his shoulder and his upper body came back to rest on the seat.

“Dad?” Ashton croaked.

“I fucked that up pretty bad, didn’t I kid?” He laughed a sickening laugh full of delirium.

When Ashton heard the wet coughs he turned to his mother. “Mom!”

She smiled at him, “Baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Oh, I’ll be all right.”

Distant sirens penetrated his stuffy hearing.

“You’re bleeding, baby.”

“It’s just my cheek, but Mom, your dress is soaked with blood. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Oh yeah honey, I’ll be fine.”

“Your mom’s a tough ole gal.” His father couldn’t hold his head up and so he let it drop to his chest and Ashton thought he’d fallen asleep.

The fire department was on the scene first. They pulled Ashton and his father from the car, but not his mother.

“My mom!”

The firemen looked at him strangely.

“Somebody help get my mom out.”