Reception

by Kenzie Jennings

  I decided to risk it. “Mom!” I whisper-shouted. “We’re here. Let’s go!”

  “Shut the hell up, Ansley,” hissed Shay.

  “If she’s here, she’s not gonna be able to see us in the dark like this.”

  “There’s someone on the hill over there, stupid. He’ll hear us.”

  “Call me ‘stupid’ again, and I swear I will leave you to them. Right here. I don’t care if it is your day.”

  “Fine. On my day, I call anyone acting stupidly ‘stupid.’ Thems the rules. Now shut up.”

  A flickering, yellow light rose and fell, rose and fell, up ahead on a hill behind a row of squat, little buildings. The closer we got, the clearer everything was in the moonlight. The buildings were a few of the resort’s casitas, the ones reserved for the parents and families with kids. I only knew that based on their location from the dining hall building. If it hadn’t been for the flickering light, I wouldn’t have recognized the area where we were at all.

  And then there was the smell…

  Oh, the delicious scent of it, that salt-crusted, fatty-rich, charred aroma of roasting meat. Even though I’d practically gorged on dinner, and then later, my stomach had felt all acidic and topsy-turvy, my stomach still burbled and moaned, begging me to sit up and take notice. It urged me to consider the possibility that I was actually hungry, even in the worst of times.

  The flickering light was coming from a campfire that had been set up on the hill. There was a tall figure near the fire, its back to us, roasting a large, crispy carcass on a spit over a blazing fire.

  Shay and I hunkered down, keeping as low as we could to the ground without having to crawl on our hands and knees in the dirt and grit. Holding tightly to my hand, Shay led me to a steep outcropping of landscaped stone that formed the base of the hill and kept us blocked from the figure at the top. When the figure at the top of the hill whistled a shrill signal, Shay and I flattened ourselves against the jagged rocks that dug into our backs and tore our dresses. We stayed as perfectly still as we were able, hidden there in the dark shadow of the outcropping.

  Someone from just past one of the casitas at the end catcalled in response, the sharp sound of it making Shay jerk. I gave her hand a firm squeeze in acknowledgment, reminding her she still wasn’t alone. I turned my head a little so that I could meet her eyes in the dark, but I could barely make her out. If we hadn’t been through the insanity of the evening, it would’ve been easier to see her standing there in her wedding whites. However, we were both covered in blood and grime, almost perfect camouflage in the dark, making it difficult to see us. All things considered, it worked out strangely to our advantage.

  “She’s near the air conditioner. I told her to hide and wait there,” whispered Shay. She kept her voice was barely perceptible. I had to crane towards her to hear her. “See the end of the slope where it’s cut off? She should be right there.”

  From where we were standing, I could see the air conditioner condenser and hear it whirring, but I couldn’t see much beyond it. The firelight made the back walls, shrubs and cacti glow, helping the view a little but not enough for me to discern anything that looked remotely Mom-shaped.

  “Hey, Patrick?” a masculine voice, rye-crackled and seasoned suddenly said just above our heads, causing both of us to jerk. “I need more of the marinade and a better drip pan. You mind?”

  There was a snap-crunch of footsteps cracking twigs, moving towards the voice. “Couldn’t find ’em , but I suspect them bitches are close by, lookin’ for their mama.” And that, that was Nathan. I almost didn’t recognize his voice. It sounded muffled and odd, like he was talking around a wad of chewing tobacco.

  “That any way to talk about your new bride?” said the other.

  “I don’t give a good goddamn about that girl except how sweet and juicy she’s gonna taste,” answered Nathan.

  “Finger lickin’ for the pickin’.”

  “You said it, brother. As for the other one, well…,” Nathan said and then hacked and spit.

  “She ain’t half bad.”

  “You ain’t half wrong.”

  I felt a shudder worm its way through Shay. Her hand was growing clammy, too. I couldn’t see the whites of her eyes anymore as she’d screwed them tightly shut, her face crinkled in horror and disgust. I couldn’t even imagine what she was going through.

  Her new husband, a monster. An honest to God, human monster.

  Her wedding, a sham. A nightmare of an excuse for easy access to food.

  I still couldn’t begin to believe, accept, let alone understand, any of it. Couldn’t fathom how they could possibly get away with it. It was all such a long, cruel fever dream.

  The other party, the one in charge of the cooking, I didn’t recognize his voice, but it wasn’t as if it was all that hard to guess if he was a guest of ours or the Cards. I mean, come on.

  Not like we had many guests left, I don’t think, but who had time to keep score?

  “I’ll see what we got in the kitchen for you,” said Nathan, who was suddenly right there, directly above us at the top of the incline as well. “Speaking of, you hear? We had to cart Auntie Al away.”

  “Yeah, I heard. Such a shame.”

  “Cryin’ shame. She was a good cook.”

  “Hey now.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your aunt know how to make a marinade like mine? Let’s face it, she never could handle a spit. Couldn’t even handle two fires under the meat neither. She just stuck the midsection in an oven and basted it every hour. Sometimes, she’d even forget, and the meat would be all dry an’ stringy. This here, my friend, this takes patience and diligence. Your auntie had none of that. She was fidgety. Plumb crazy as a bullbat.”

  “You shut your trap.”

  “Man alive, you could hear that woman cluckin’ a mile off, but you still wouldn’t find her nest.”

  Nathan spit and then let out a warning whistle, low and sharp. “I mean it, Pat. S’no way to talk of the dead.”

  “What, I hurt her feelings, Nate?” Nathan must have done something next, given some kind of warning gesture like he’d strike because the other one became apologetic. “I’m jokin’, friend. No need for that. Heart in humor, that’s all. Besides, I can’t have you makin’ a mess of my beautiful face here.”

  “A face so ugly your mama takes you everywhere so she don’t have to kiss you goodbye.”

  “And that joke’s older than dinosaur pie.”

  “I have a million more.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you do, brother. Keep ’em comin’ while I’m on my feet all day, slavin’ over a hot roast for y’all. I can’t tell you how entertainin’ that is for me.”

  There was a brief moment when they went silent. I heard Shay hyperventilating, so I reached for her and reeled her in close as quietly as I could manage. We clung onto each other there underneath the outcropping, both of us silently willing the two of them to leave. And right then, I had a horrible feeling lurking there, waiting to pounce. I knew exactly what it was, but the part of me that was still in the denial stage refused to grant it any sort of credence.

  Nathan hocked another wad just over our hiding place and then said, “Be so good as to remind me once again…? More of that marinade of yours and—What else you want?”

  “Bigger drip pan. She needs something wide and sturdy,” said the other.

  Nathan whooped at that. “Could make a dirty joke out of it, but I’ll let your mind play games for once,” he said, laughing.

  “Now that ain’t nice, thinkin’ about your mother-in-law in that way.”

  That was it; that’s exactly what was lurking there during their entire awful conversation. Shay’s body trembled against mine. She silently sobbed. As for me, I couldn’t react. I just couldn’t. Aside from the physical pain and difficulty breathing, I felt nothing inside but a cold, wide emptiness, like someone had scraped out the last bits and pieces I had left in me.

  I wasn’t there; I couldn�
��t be. None of it could’ve possibly been happening.

  “She was my mother-in-law,” said Nathan, chuckling.

  He leapt down from above and landed, feet first, in a crouch, directly beside us. Then he stood up to his full height and, with one arm out, casually leaned against the rocky wall of the outcropping.

  “Now she’s Sunday dinner,” he said, smiling, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. He then grabbed for my sister, but no doubt driven by a sudden surge of adrenalin, Shay was faster. She viciously cracked him across the jaw with the hammer of the tenderizer, and the force behind her swing was enough to send Nathan’s head knocking against a stone in the wall.

  I pulled her with me before Nathan could regain his composure. The two of us ran off, heading around the little row of casitas towards the back entrance road of the resort. I didn’t know where we were going this time since our plan to pick up Mom and get the keys to her car had been cut short.

  When Shay had us take an alternate path from the fork in the dirt road, at first, I had no idea what she was up to and had to keep myself from making any noise by asking her. Then I suddenly knew where we were going, and by then, there just wasn’t a thing I could do to stop her from leading me back to the casita that doubled as the goddamned honeymoon suite.

  And the crazies, well, they knew exactly where to find us.

  We were stupidly there on their turf after all.

  #

  Just as soon as we made it to the wooden door of her casita, a building that was set apart from the rest in its own landscaped area of the resort, Shay had me keep an eye out for trouble. While I played lookout, she first handed me the meat tenderizer, and then she bent and reached up underneath the slip layer of her dress where she’d, apparently, kept a little satin bag snapped to the underside of the waist of her skirt. She quickly unzipped the bag and removed a key.

  Sharp whistles coming from all around the resort grounds startled us both. Shay nearly dropped the key, but I steadied her, easing her back to what she was supposed to be doing. She fumbled with the key, rattling it around in the door lock.

  “The only resort on the planet that still uses metal keys,” she muttered. “And they don’t even bother to oil the damn locks.”

  Right then, someone called her name from far off. She stopped working on the lock just long enough to look around for the source.

  I gave her a nudge. “I can do that, and you can watch, if you’d rather.”

  She turned back to the door and twisted at the lock once more. It finally caught, and she swung the door open.

  “Shaaaaaaay, my love, my honeypie. In sickness and health. For better, for worse. Hey, where ya goin’? You know I got a key, sweetness,” cooed Nathan. He was strolling down the hill from the other end of the road, walking towards us all by himself. The whole side of his face from his cheekbone to the line of his jaw was starting to swell. “I think you broke some of my teeth with that thing, honey. Whole face hurts like a sonofabitch. You might wanna get rid of it before I take it from you and start using it on that pretty mug of yours. Pulverize it to a Picasso.”

  “I am not giving that boy the satisfaction. Not tonight,” she said as she motioned me inside with her. “Not ever. Crazy fucker. Sickness and health my ass.”

  With that, she slammed the door shut just as Nathan made it to the rocky pathway that led right up to the casita. She locked it from inside, wisely using the heavy deadbolt in lieu of the key lock.

  “I just want to say, I’m so proud of you and your newfound rage,” I said. “Keep on with your badass self.”

  Nathan pounded hard on the door and then rattled it, shaking it in its frame. “Shay! Hey, Shay, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he said, and I had to hand it to the guy, his tone was almost convincing. “You gotta know I wouldn’t really hurt you. You’re my wife. Only cowards beat their wives. I wouldn’t do that. I was raised right.”

  “Kinda funny you mention that, buddy, because from here, it looks like you were raised to eat people,” I said. Couldn’t help myself.

  It was enough to get him angrier. “Stay out of this, cunt,” he snarled. “This is between the married people. Man and wife. Comprende? Feminazis don’t have a say in any of this.”

  Shay and I exchanged a grimace.

  “Did he seriously just call you the c-word?” she said. “He did not.”

  “He did, and he said ‘feminazi’. You know, I never thought I’d hear that out of someone’s mouth…and in real time.”

  “Sweet man of mine knows how to charm the ladies.”

  “For shit’s sake, open the door, Shay,” he said, punctuating it with another thump. Then his tone softened. “I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. Just wanna talk. That’s all. Just talk.”

  Shay snapped, “Eat a shit sandwich, Nate.”

  “Not on le menu se soir, ma soeur,” I said. That one earned a scowl from my sister.

  “Shay, I’m coming back for you, darlin’, and I’m bringing some friends,” said Nathan, grit in his voice. “You girls can try an’ make a run for it, but keep in mind, girl… Better I catch you than my papa. He’s none too happy after what you done.”

  Shay and I exchanged a worried look. We then stood there, quiet and still, waiting for some noise, some sign that Nathan had actually left.

  “I think he’s gone,” said Shay, letting out a big sigh of relief. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t.”

  I didn’t understand. “You can’t believe what?”

  She stared at me, a frown lining her face. “I can’t believe you were right this time.”

  Still didn’t get it. “Right about…?”

  “About Nathan.”

  “What’d I say about Nathan, aside from the usual?”

  “That he wasn’t good for me.”

  I managed a grin. “So the usual.”

  She laughed, a decent attempt. “The usual, yeah.”

  “Now that I’ve seen him in his element,” I said, “I don’t think he’s right for anybody.”

  She snickered and said, “We should find those keys.”

  Shay rummaged through a handbag that had been left on a sofa near the king-sized four-poster bed. The bridal suite had at least twice the amount of room than my guest casita had on the opposite end of the resort. Someone had set it up nicely with posh candlesticks with white pillar candles placed here and there throughout the room. There was also a champagne bucket that held nuggets of ice and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot on an end table and small bouquets of fresh wildflowers set in delicate crystal vases, none of which were there earlier when we were getting ready. When the hell did that horrid wedding planner manage to squeeze in time to get the place decorated, especially while she was apparently busy roasting the chef?

  Of course, Shay’s signature travel mess marked the space as her own personal territory. She’d left her customary pile of clothing she’d brought with her dumped on the bed in a jumbled heap. The vanity was still also littered with her stuff, her makeup case having been emptied of all of its sticky and powdery contents.

  In contrast, Nathan’s post-wedding attire, or what I assumed what he would’ve worn had the whole experience been authentic, had been left carefully over an armchair. Even his shoes had been buffed and set neatly in front of the chair. If that wasn’t a sign that he and Shay would’ve driven each other bonkers at some point, that they weren’t quite right for each other, a touch of cannibalism would have to do the trick.

  As mad irony would have it, Nathan’s obsessive neat-and-orderly fetish worked to our advantage. While Shay had dumped the contents of her bag all over the sofa and was hunting for her car key in the chaos, I discovered Nathan’s cell phone right in plain view, charging on one of the end tables beside the sofa. I picked it up and clicked it on.

  “You know the passcode to this thing?” I asked half in Shay’s direction, half to the space around me. “I’ve a feeling it might be something like…oh, I don’t know…his mom’s birthday…or the day he
took his first bite of human flesh…? What do you think?”

  Shay held up the car fob for me to see. “Found it!” Then she saw the phone in my hand. “It’s not gonna work anyway. Couldn’t get a signal.”

  “I know, but I was just curious if it was different in the honeymoon suite since it came with champagne and flowers,” I said as I entered each and every combination of Nathan-numbers I could think of. “Why would anyone come out here if there wasn’t a signal anywhere?”

  “Yeah, it was one of the reasons why Nate wanted the wedding here,” she said, and when I glanced at Shay, a look of realization slowly edged its way over her pretty features. “He said it was ideal for a weekend away from work. Plenty of isolation from everything.”

  “Doesn’t that make you wonder why a place would advertise it has modern necessities like Wifi access if it was an out-and-out lie? Oh, and speaking of, don’t you just love how they advertise with the word ‘amenities’ rather than ‘necessities’ like it’s just something extra and totally frivolous?”

  “No Wifi. No reception. And no firearms on the premises,” she said, recalling.

  “I thought about that,” I said, nodding. “Dad must’ve shit a brick when he found out he couldn’t bring his babies.”

  “Delia insisted no one bring their guns. I mean, when she said that, and even had it put on the invitations, I was more surprised that Rex agreed to that. But you know something? It makes perfect sense now.”

  “Wait, hold on. How? How does that make sense at all? They could’ve just as easily shot us beforehand. Isn’t that what hunters do here? I mean, I’m no expert, but isn’t it practical for them to keep some distance from their target?” And then it dawned on me. Stupid, stupid me. I knew all along. “Not if they didn’t want their prey to be armed, too.”

  Shay, nodding, slowly made her way over to me. “And not if they wanted the thrill. Isn’t hunting all about the challenge of the kill? The excitement?”

  We both jumped when the door to the suite started rattling in its hinges once again. “Hey, ladies, time to open up and take your licks!” hollered Nathan. There were a couple of wolf whistles and jeers coming from outside as well, no doubt the “friends” he’d mentioned he’d bring along with him.