As Cold As The Dead

by R. M. Smith

  AS COLD AS THE DEAD

  By R. M. Smith

  As Cold as the Dead

  Copyright 2016 by R. M. Smith

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Based on an original idea by R. M. Smith,

  Cover design by Brandi Doane McCann.

  www.ebook-coverdesigns.com

  Dedicated to my wife, Karen

  Edited by Tiffany Richards

  Other books by R. M. Smith

  Alive! Not Dead

  The Wicked Game

  Evolution of the Dead

  Finny

  Contents

  The End of the Fall

  Faces in the Frost

  Bad Blood

  As Cold As The Dead

  Jars of Teeth

  PROLOGUE

  The End of the Fall

  For me, the beginning of the end of the world started shortly after I admitted to myself that I had fallen in love with my handicapped cousin Rainey.

  It happened when my Aunt Brenda and her daughter Rainey came to Los Angeles to visit my Mom who was dying of lung cancer. It had really surprised me to hear that Rainey was coming too because she suffered from muscular dystrophy and couldn’t walk. With Rainey here, that meant Aunt Brenda would have to take care of her instead of being able to spend time with my Mom.

  Mom told me, “It was your Uncle Kent’s last minute decision to send Rainey along. You need to accept it, Jon. You know he’s a stubborn old rascal.”

  Actually I didn’t know how stubborn he was, but the stories I had heard about him over the years had made me hate him.

  Uncle Kent didn’t care about anything in the world except for himself and his stupid farm. Everything and everyone else could go to hell including his wife, son, and handicapped daughter.

  Mom told me Kent treated Rainey the worst. He used her handicap as a crutch to voice his opinion about all the money he had to spend trying to make her life comfortable.

  Before they arrived I told Aunt Brenda that I would happily help with Rainey while they visited; even volunteered to let Rainey stay with me in our apartment. Rainey could sleep in Mom’s room since she was already in the hospital.

  Aunt Brenda rented a room at the Holiday Inn Express between the apartment and the hospital. I told her, “When you’re done visiting, don’t worry about coming back to my apartment to take care of Rainey. I can handle it.”

  Aunt Brenda smiled, grateful…and relieved too, I think. She and Mom remained close over the years by keeping in touch through long distance phone calls every other month; taking turns paying phone bills.

  In each and every one of their conversations, Mom and Aunt Brenda talked about getting together for a reunion; even making plans discussing where they would stay, but it never happened.

  Time wore on.

  Years and years of time.

  They didn’t see each other in 15 years.

  My name is Jon Hutchens. I’m Mom’s only son. Dad left us when I was six years old. Some other woman came back into his life and he left without saying goodbye. Mom told me their marriage hadn’t been that great anyway.

  I work at the port of L.A. operating cranes unloading large ships bringing in cargo from overseas. I’m 25, never married.

  When Mom got sick she didn’t want to go to the doctor. Instead she pushed the feelings away by working as many hours as she could at the diner outside the Port. When she was no longer able to work the shifts due to the pain she finally went to the doctor and was admitted to the hospital immediately.

  We live in a suburb of Los Angeles. I make decent money and almost have enough money saved up to buy a house of my own but when Mom got sick I decided to stay with her because I didn’t like her being alone when she wasn’t feeling well.

  She got sicker and sicker diagnosed with cancer. I took off more and more time from work. One morning after clocking out, my boss caught up to me. We all call him Waters. His real name is Donald Waterbury. In a fading southern accent he said, “Listen Jon. You take as much time as you need to be with her. Notch said he’d fill in while you’re gone. Jon, man, you’re her only son; and not only that, you still got three more weeks of vacation stacked up on the books and I’m tired of keeping track of it!” He slapped me on the back. “Sorry about your Ma, kid.”

  I thanked him. Waters always came through for me.

  I had gone to work on the docks straight out of high school. Breaking my back in the wee hours of the night, I’d fall into my bed in the morning covered in sweat.

  Waters had been impressed with my work. He added my name to a long list of people who had volunteered for crane operator training. My name was selected. Going through the training I found it to be a nice challenge. Easily I aced the class. My pay scale shot way up. At 23, I was the youngest, highest paid crane operator on the west coast.

  When I got home to tell Mom about my nice raise, I found her lying down in bed. I asked her if she needed anything. Her voice was hoarse, her head covered in sweat. I told her I’d call an ambulance if she wanted me to but she said no; it would pass.

  By the time Aunt Brenda and Rainey arrived in L.A., Mom had already been in the hospital for two weeks.

  Surprisingly, Dad put up the money for Mom’s care even though he didn’t call, show up or send flowers. He didn’t even sign a get well card.

  Mom faded away faster and faster.

  Aunt Brenda came to our apartment every morning to help Rainey bathe and get dressed. After, Aunt Brenda went to the hospital to sit with Mom. It was nice for my aunt because she didn’t have to worry about taking care of Rainey. I actually looked forward to hanging out with Rainey because honestly it was keeping me from stressing out about Mom all the time.

  Rainey and I were the same age. I had never personally met her. I had heard about her, of course, and had seen pictures of her, but had never spoken to her in person. When I had seen pictures of her, I thought she was cute.

  In real life Rainey was actually more than that. She had a clear complexion other than a few smart freckles on the bridge of her nose which held onto her childhood. She had long blonde hair curling on the shoulders. Her eyes were a striking sky blue and she had the cutest dimples on her cheeks. She had a fun sense of humor telling corny jokes or making witty remarks about everything. Her laugh was contagious. Everything she said made me laugh.

  She never left her wheel chair other than to sleep or use the restroom.

  I discovered Rainey to be a real sweetheart. She never talked about her legs. She didn’t want to give them any attention saying, “They’re not worthy of front page news.”

  Over their two week visit, Rainey and I grew very close. We spent as much time together as we could. We really didn’t want to go to the hospital because it depressed me seeing Mom in bed with all of the tubes running in and out of her; and I’m sure Mom understood completely even though by that time she was not able to speak.

  When Rainey got tired I’d wheel her into my bedroom, lift her out of her wheelchair and lay her on my bed. While she slept I’d go pick something up for dinner or run down to the port for a few minutes to keep the guys up to date on Mom.

  After dinner we spent time sitting on the couch relaxing watching TV. Other nights we’d go sit by the apartment pool. Rainey “cooked dinner” for me occasionally, telling me what to get at the store while she slept. She’d watch me prepare it, playfully snapping at me, shaking her finger at me with a grin if I put in too many ingredients or not enough. She taught me to cook an awesome chicken and pasta dish.
The sauce by itself was to die for.

  Rainey and I grew closer. I told myself, if she wasn’t my cousin I’d try to pursue a relationship with her.

  We shared the same tastes in music. Opening the downloaded music tab on my iPhone, we sat side by side on the couch listening to my playlists. Our heads bopped together listening to my oldies collection of the Beatles, the Monkeys, the Mamas & the Papas and Zeppelin. We shared the same taste in movies, too. We got into loud laughing spats about who the best comedian was. We debated over who the best Spiderman was or who played the best James Bond or who was the best Batman. We both loved the old shows on TV: I Dream of Jeannie, My Three Sons and Gilligan’s Island.

  We never argued; even when we got into some of the touchy subjects like religion or politics.

  We were like two peas in a pod. There was nothing opposite about us other than the fact that she was a woman and I was a man. She finished sentences for me and I finished hers. Our conversations lasted for hours.

  In the mornings Aunt Brenda checked in on Rainey. I assured her everything was fine.

  After Brenda helped Rainey get ready for the day I rolled into Mom’s bedroom with her wheelchair and lifted Rainey gently into it. With a smile she said, “Good morning, Jon.”

  “Good morning, Miss Rainey,” I answered with a silly bow. She giggled like a little girl.

  With Brenda smiling at our side, I rolled Rainey outside and down a short ramp over to my car. We drove to Starbucks for lattes. Brenda had her own rental car which she drove over to the hospital after having drinks with us.

  We stopped in to see Mom. After an hour or so, Rainey and I left to have lunch, spend time in the park or go window shopping.

  On the day before Rainey and Aunt Brenda had to go back home, Mom fell into a coma. The doctors said she wouldn’t come out of it. We all cried, sad to see Mom fading away. Most of my tears were for Rainey, though. I’d miss her terribly.

  On the night before they left, Rainey stayed up late with me on the couch. She didn’t want me to take her to the bedroom. She told me she’d been having such a great time with me. She wished we could’ve spent more time together. I promised her I’d come visit her in Minnesota as soon as I could.

  She sat next to me, shorter than me on my right side. She looked up at me, a smile on her face, her cute dimples poking into her cheeks.

  I wanted to lean down and kiss her, but I didn’t. Instead, she laid her head on my shoulder and almost immediately went to sleep.

  I sat next to her, listening to her soft breathing. After a while, I put my head down and cried.

  Mom never came out of her coma. She died two weeks after Rainey and Aunt Brenda went home.

  Two years passed. Rainey and I kept in touch through letters and an occasional long distance phone call.

  Uncle Kent didn’t like her tying up the phone. He was very strict about it saying he was waiting for an important call to come through. I thought it was a bit rude especially when I was the one who initiated the call and the long distance charges would be on my bill.

  Still, I had to honor his wishes.

  I asked Rainey if she could get a cell phone. We could talk on them or send texts and not tie up the house phone. She said she’d ask her Dad about it but I don’t think she ever did because the subject never came up again.

  We talked less and less on the phone but our letters never stopped. In one letter she begged me to please come to Minnesota. I told her I would put in for vacation at work.

  Waters had to give me trouble about it of course. “What you doing going up there for, kid? It gets cold up there this time of year you know.”

  “It’s not even Halloween yet,” I said.

  He signed my vacation slip and smiled. “Your funeral,” he laughed.

  I called Rainey once the dates were set. She told me her Dad said I could stay on their farm in Delano instead of Minneapolis if I wanted to.

  “It’s too long of a drive for you to take every day, Jon,” Rainey told me. “I want you on the farm the whole time you’re here.”

  She said she had other news for me, too, but wanted to wait until I got there to tell me about it. At the end of our phone call, I said, “I can’t wait to see you, Rainey.”

  “I can’t wait to see you, too,” she said. “I really miss you.”

  On the 40 mile drive in from the airport, I turned the radio on in my rental car. A disc jockey told me about an approaching arctic cold front. He said it was going to be “North Pole cold.” The weather was expected to plow through in the next couple of days. It bummed me out because I hoped to spend as much time outside as I could with Rainey.

  Driving up to the farm, dust billowing out behind my rental car, I spotted Rainey’s older brother Ben sitting on a wooden hay wagon next to their barn. A long weed hung out of his mouth. He raised his hand when he saw me. He wore Army fatigues and a matching cap.

  I parked, the dust settling around us. I walked over and shook his hand.

  Ben asked, “How you doing, Jon?” with the weed perched between his teeth.

  “Good,” I said. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

  “You too.”

  I said, “So I hear it’s going to be getting cold here soon.”

  Ben looked at the sky toward the north horizon. He had dimples in his cheeks too, like Rainey. His hair was sandy in color. His eyes were also blue. “Yep. They say the temperature’s going to drop into the teens. Good chance of snow, too.”

  I boosted up onto the hay wagon next to him. “That’s strange for even here, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Well, it’s odd, but I remember a couple winters back when it snowed a few feet on October first.”

  “Well its September 22nd now,” I said about to add something else but then a strange sound came to my ears. It startled me. I had never heard anything like it. It came out of nowhere, a whirring; a chirping; much like the constant bleating of crickets - but swishier if that’s even a word. This noise was strong. It rose and fell in the wind.

  I asked, “What the hell is that?”

  “What?” he asked, surprised. He looked around as if I had seen something coming around the other side of the barn.

  “That noise!”

  Ben listened then smiled realizing that I had never heard the sound before. He said, “Oh, those are locusts. They do that every year.”

  I sat silent next to him, my head cocked. The sound was mesmerizing yet blissful. “Locusts,” I repeated. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”

  It stopped. Seconds later the sound continued swishing over the tops of the trees.

  “That’s weird,” I said, my eyes wide, a smile on my face. “Is it a mating call or something?”

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “You get used to it around here. It happens all the time – well, in late summer.” He nodded toward the house with a smile.

  On the front porch, Aunt Brenda and Uncle Kent were waving. Rainey was rolling down the long dirt driveway in her wheelchair. She had such a smile on her face bumping along over the dry dirt. Her joy was overly abundant. I jumped down off the wagon, ran to her, lifted her out of her wheel chair and swung her around hugging her while the wild sound of locusts surrounded us.

  “I’m so glad you came, Jon,” she said, a tear in her voice. She kissed my cheek.

  I had to wipe tears from my eyes, too. “So good to see you, Rainey.”

  I carried her over to the wagon and lifted her onto it. She grabbed a weed lying on the deck and quickly stuck it in her mouth just like her older brother. Ben laughed folding his arms.

  We sat on the back of the hay hauler for a couple of hours catching up while daylight faded away. Out in the fields, their horse Bernie kept neighing, attempting to keep up with the stridulating of the locusts while the sun slowly went down behind the barn. When it did, the locusts all stopped resonating at exactly the same time.

  “That’s crazy,” I said. “How can they all stop at once?”

  Raine
y said, “They do that a lot. I don’t know how they all know to do it together at the same time, but they do.”

  Uncle Kent came walking up pushing Rainey’s wheelchair. He had his hand outstretched. “Glad to see you, Jon. How’ve you been?”

  I shook his hand. It was callused. I said, “Real good, thanks. I see these two have been keeping you busy.”

  Chuckling, Uncle Kent put his arm around my shoulder. He had curly dirty blonde hair, a light colored moustache and a beer belly. “You have no idea. Rainey, it’s time for bed.”

  “Aw, come on Dad. Jon just got here!”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to spend with him tomorrow,” Uncle Kent said. “You need your rest, honey, so please, don’t argue, ok.”

  “It’s ok,” I said lifting her, hugging her, and setting her down in the wheelchair. She didn’t want to let go. I laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest, ok?”

  Sad, she looked down at her lap. “Ok.”

  “Hey, keep your chins up,” I said with a smile. “Don’t be an uppity pup.”

  “You’re the uppity pup,” she giggled, poking me. “Ok, Jon. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, honey.”

  “Night,” her big brother Ben said.

  Uncle Kent asked, “You two gents coming up soon?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute,” Ben said.

  “Alright. Talk to you tomorrow, Jon.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Watching her Dad roll her up the long dirty driveway I said, “She’s such a sweetheart.”

  “Yea. She really is,” Ben said. “She never complains. She’s got such good spirit.”

  “And such a helpful big brother,” I added slapping a hand down on his shoulder. “You really do well by her.”

  He smiled with his head down. He sighed. “Well, I try. Dammit!” he suddenly said. “I forgot to change her light bulbs.”

  “Her what?”