Raven's Peak: Cold Hard Bitch

by Cole Savage

  Tyler floundered with the rifle, which seemed heavier at the moment. He lifted it to his shoulder and put the buck in his sights. His pulse was pounding so hard Tyler was shaking. He could hear T.D giving instructions— almost whispering.

  “Shoot right behind his shoulder blade, low on the body. If you hit the heart you’ll kill it instantly. If you miss the heart you’ll get the lungs. If you get the lungs, he’ll run a few hundred feet, then drop.

  The Deer turned and spied Tyler, eyes on his face. Tyler squeezed the trigger and sent the shot wide— deliberately. T.D knew.

  The three Deer looked around in unison, unsure of where the danger had come from, and just as Tyler wondered whether T.D noticed that he had backed out, T.D fired a second shot. The Doe’s bolted away and the Buck dropped instantly. Tyler and Cole walked over to the Buck and stood over him, watching the blood pump from its heart.

  “I’m sorry to steal your shot, Tyler,” said T.D.

  “It’s okay ,T.D. I’m glad you got him.” Unable to tear his eyes from the Deer, Cole threw up. T.D unsheathed his hunting knife and went to his haunches to field dress the Buck. Cole shifted his gaze to the scenery, unable to cope with the hot rising smells of the Buck’s blood and the blood on T. D’s hands. Blood so red it was almost black as it pulsed down its flanks. Tyler had his head down in disappointment. Kyle reached out and touched his shoulder.

  “You’ll get him next time, Tyler.”

  ******************

  The days passed in blurred images. The three of them hiked, camped under the stars, they hunted and fished, and T.D related the geology of the Appalachians, explained why he loved them so much. The Appalachians, he would say, is a grocery store. Everything a human needs to sustain life is out here. Having the knowledge of the mountains, the hidden secrets waiting to be discovered, and knowing where to look is a valuable asset for every young man. Part of his discourse was basic survival skills. Lighting fires using a bow drill, surviving cold nights while camping, carrying what they needed to survive for a few days in a backpack. They ate off the land with only a knife and fishing line, and they learned how to boil water to kill bacteria. He taught them that organisms smaller than a grain of sand could kill them if they didn’t understand the science behind it. He demonstrated store bought water purifiers and camp stoves so small you could easily store them in a fanny pack. They scrambled over rock outcroppings, climbed and repelled small cliff faces with nothing more than a rope, and they spent afternoons working out, T.D emphasizing the importance of working core muscles. He explained the futility of pay by month Gymnasiums –Everything you need to stay mentally and physically fit is right here if you’re willing to make the effort. Nothing worth doing comes easy, and he would say that Gymnasiums (he called meat markets), were expensive and impractical. He started the boys on a workout regimen that included pushups, sit-ups, lumber lifting, and running. They lifted boulders and moved them from one side to the next when they had no other chores to complete. T.D spent countless hours showing them crippling fight moves that could incapacitate an opponent with little effort, and he mounted a burlap sack filled with dirt on the woodshed, so the boys could take turns punching the sack using proper technique. T.D left on several occasions to muster supplies and take care of what he called business appointments; sometimes he was gone all day.

  It was the third Thursday, marking three weeks since the boys arrived at Raven’s Peak, and T.D decided to take the boys to the town of Seneca Rock for ice-cream. He gave them a stern warning about talking to anybody about their situation. They cleaned the house, secured equipment that was vulnerable to rain, watching as gray clouds started to roll in. Before they left T.D showed the boys how to check the vital fluids on the Ford engine, explaining to them the importance of keeping fluid levels up.

  The boys jumped in the front seat, overjoyed at the prospect of a hamburger and ice-cream. Wearing new jeans and a white t-shirt that T.D bought them, they situated themselves next to T.D, who was wearing a WVU t-shirt, denim, and severely worn hiking boots. A light drizzle fell on the windshield that was covered with several days’ worth of sand and red dirt, so T.D got out of the truck to clean it with a rag and a bottle of water he kept in the back of the truck, since his truck didn’t have a functional windshield sprayer.

  They traversed the maze of dirt roads leading out of Harmon and found Highway 33— the same two-lane they drove in on. The boys were jittery at the prospect of eating ice cream and a meal that didn’t consist of frog legs, venison or rabbit. T.D hit 33, where he turned right, and the boys were asking a thousand questions, which he seemed obliged to answer. He didn’t always have the answer the boys wanted to hear, but he did the best he could, and three miles from the town of Seneca Rocks, while T.D was distracted by a barrage of questions, he heard whup…whup…pause whup…whup…He looked in his rearview mirror and saw the red and blue lights of the lawman, spinning in his rear view. T.D said, “Shit” but he kept driving for the moment, pretending he hadn’t seen the lights, while he barked instructions to the boys.

  “Both of you listen. You stay put in here, don’t twitch a finger and don’t say a thing. If the lawman asks if you’re my boys. You say, yes, sir. Do you understand, Tyler?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you understand, Cole?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now I’m tellin’ you. You say one word to that lawman he won’t be goin’ home to supper with his kids and wife, and let’s not talk about what will happen to the two of you. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” They said simultaneously.

  The whup…Whup… turned into a blaring siren and the trooper pulled next to T. D’s truck, gesturing with his right arm to pull over. T.D gave him a quick nod and pulled to the right, onto the shoulder of 33. T.D sat in his seat with both hands on the steering wheel, his head straight and rigid, stealing peeks into the rear view to see what the officer was doing. Then, over the patrolman’s P.A, T.D heard, “Step out of the vehicle with your hands where I can see them. Walk backward towards me with your hands up, and do it slowly.” T.D opened the door slowly and carefully stepped out, looking straight ahead. He put his hands up to the sky and walked backward, towards the trooper’s voice.

  “Walk slowly, boy. No sudden moves.” The boys looked back and saw the officer with his weapon pointed at T. D’s back. The patrolman turned him around and threw T. D’s body on the hood of the black and gold interceptor. He pushed his arms forward on the hood, and the boys could see that the officer was searching T.D with one hand, still holding his pistol on him with his right hand.

  “Cole, this is our chance to see mom.”

  “Ty, you heard what he said.”

  “Cole, the Policeman has a gun on T.D. We’re never going to have a better chance.”

  “Ty, we’ve seen how strong T.D is. What if he gets lucky? He’ll kill us for sure.”

  “Remember what T.D told us, Cole. He told us that nobody in this world is going to help us but ourselves. All this stuff he’s been teaching us is so we can be strong, so nobody will push us around.”

  “I know, Ty. You’re probably right. But you heard what Hooch said.”

  “What did Hooch say, Cole.”

  “He said that T.D was the only man who had ever beaten him in a scrap. And, Ty, if he could kill those boys back at the cabin I don’t think he would care about killing a police man.” On their knees, on the back seat, the boys kept their eyes on the developing situation. They watched the officer holster his firearm and take a posture facing T.D, who got up from the hood and leaned on the fender of the cruiser, his arms and legs crossed. Then, a sound startled the boys’— the hiss of air-brakes, and the sound of a tractor-trailer shifting down. Five seconds later the truck blew past them and shook T. D’s truck, so Tyler used the distraction as an opportunity to open the passenger door. Tyler jumped out screaming, “Help us, help us. He took us from our mom, Help us.” He ran towards the patrolman waving his arms in the air. The of
ficer shifted his eyes to Tyler, who was running with his arms flailing around and a look of terror on his face. The officer kept his posture, looking at Tyler with a puzzled look, making sure T.D didn’t make any sudden moves, shifting his head to look at Tyler, then back to T.D. But the officer quickly looked back to T.D, acting as if Tyler wasn’t there. Tyler slowed, went behind the patrolman and said, “Mr., Police man. This man took me and my brother from our mom. Can you help us? He’s been keeping us up at his cabin. I can show you.” T.D and Officer Gentry looked at Tyler pleading his case, so T.D narrowed his gaze and said broodingly, “Tyler, meet my cousin Willard Gentry,” taking a toothpick out of his shirt pocket and slipping it between his teeth. The patrolman stuck his hand out and Tyler’s heart fell out of his soiled shorts. His eyes looked like he was jolted with two-hundred-twenty amps. He dropped his arms to his side and said in a fearful whimper, “I’m sorry, T.D.”

  “Get back in the truck. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Tyler walked doggedly, beaten, back to the truck while T.D chatted a few more minutes with Willard. T.D gave Officer Gentry a three-tap hug and walked back to the truck where the boys were sitting, looking straight ahead with soulless eyes, their hands on their lap. T.D got back in the driver’s seat, he cracked a grin with a look of faint amusement, started the truck and merged on the road, resuming his drive to Seneca Rocks. Fifteen minutes later, T.D pulled his Ford into the gravel parking lot of Bev’s Diner, went around the building and parked his blue and white Ford behind the building, hidden from the highway, the boys sitting rigid, still looking straight ahead.

  “Let’s go,” T.D said. He opened the door, glanced at Tyler and Cole, trying to hide his pleasure and the boys followed him. “In case you’re wonderin’ there ain’t no one in Seneca Rocks I don’t know.” T.D walked the forty feet to the diner, boys in tow, a building that was nothing more than a log cabin with a green metal roof, surrounded by pines. Coming around the corner of the diner, T.D looked to the west and saw a family of six on a grassy knoll, sitting on pine benches, the grass alive with children. A few of them waved at T.D as he melted through the front door. Tyler and Cole kept their distance, walking stiffly, mortified looks on their faces, while T.D looked for a booth, opposite a long counter rimmed with blue round stools that ran the entire length of the service counter. The diner was full of patrons looking for a morsel in the only eating establishment in Seneca Rocks.

  CHAPTER 30

  T.D sat opposite the boys on a tattered blue, plastic covered, Hollywood style booth. The place was alive with the sound of children shrieking, men brooding about this or that, and the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with scents from the grill permeated the air. A waitress walked by carrying a tray of soda pop and comfort food, and splashed the air with the scent of cheap perfume. Tyler, trying to avoid a confrontation with T.D over his bad decision to run to the patrolman, looked around avoiding eye contact, because Tyler was sure that T.D was beyond reproach. Tyler looked at an old Coca-Cola sign on the wall, and a multitude of West Virginia University memorabilia splashed around it. The front of the diner had a single pane of glass that ran the entire length of the building, and a wall covered with photographs of previous patrons adorned a solid wall on the far side of the diner.

  T.D was buried in the menu while a parade of friends, and or family, walked by giving laconic, solicitous greetings. He dropped his menu for a moment and asked the boys what they wanted. The boys were buried behind the menus, languidly, waiting for the lambasting they knew was coming. T.D pulled down on their menus. “Tyler, Cole. This morning you were chompin’ at the bit to come here and now you can’t tell me what you want.”

  “Were scared, T.D. We’re scared of what you’re gonna do to us when we get back,” said Tyler.

  “You mean after you eat your last meal?”

  “Aren’t you mad at us?” said Tyler, as a young waitress with brown hair up in a bun, wearing a yellow car hop dress, carrying a tray, said, “What’s new, sunshine?” She leaned on the back of the bench, holding the tray with both hands.

  “Hey, Shirley. The only thing new is that beautiful lipstick you’re wearing that’s got me grinnin’ like a goat in a briar patch.”

  “I can always count on you to pick me up, T.D.”

  “What can I get you and these lovely boys?”

  “Shirley, can you give us a minute the boys are suffering from brain freeze.”

  Shirley had fat arms, wore too much lipstick, and smelled like a carton of cigarettes, and by her appearance and wistful smile, she seemed to take a pagan joy in her irreverence.

  “Don’t sweat it, darlin’, be back in a flash.”

  “You got somethin to say, Tyler?” T.D said holding his gaze.

  “Me and Cole don’t like it when you make us wait to yell at us. It makes us scared. We just suppose you yell at us now.”

  “What do you suppose I should yell at you for?”

  “Hey, T.D,” said a man walking by. T.D turned his head briefly.

  “Hey, Chism, how’s Virginia?”

  “She’s real fine, T.D. Still won’t come out of the house. But I’m workin’ on it. See ya.”

  “See ya,” T.D said turning his head back to the boys.

  “So what’s eaten’ your grits, Tyler?”

  “I know your mad cause I tried to get you in trouble with the policeman.”

  “Ah, so that’s what’s got you bent out of shape? You think I’m mad?”

  “You’re mad, right, T.D?” T.D put his elbow on the Formica table and rubbed his chin.

  “Here it is, boys. You remember last week when we spent four hours rebuildin’ the carburetor for my pickup?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, boys. I’ve spent the better part of three weeks showin’ you youngins’ how to fend for yourselves. I believe you boys are a long way from the saddle bums that Coop brought up to Harman three weeks ago.” Kyle turned his gaze to Cole.

  “When we finished rebuildin’ the carburetor, Tyler. Did it work when we put it in my redneck Cadillac?”

  “Yes, sir. It hummed like a Kitty is what you said.” Cole was watching, wondering where T.D was going.

  “Tyler, what if we’d worked on that carburetor for four hours and the darn thing didn’t work?”

  “I guess then it would have been a waste of four hours, T.D.”

  “That’s exactly right, Tyler… Now, I’ve vested three weeks on you boys, doin’ all the things that young folk like yourselves should be doin’. How do you think it would make me feel if suddenly you started layin’ on the couch every day?”

  “You’d be plum mad.”

  “That’s right, Tyler. What you boys did back there was exactly what I was hopin’ you’d do… The reason I spent so much time keepin’ you off the couch.

  “Cole, what’s the first thing I said when you got here three weeks ago?”

  “You said you would kill us if we didn’t listen.”

  “Not exactly, Cole,” T.D said, then chuckled.

  “T.D, you said nobody would be there to help us if we couldn’t even take care of ourselves.”

  “That’s exactly right, Tyler. You went over to Officer Gentry even though you thought I might kill the two of you if you did.”

  “We’re you testing us, T.D?”

  “You’re darn tootin’ I was. And boy, I gotta say I’m happier than a woodpecker in a lumber yard. It’s been real fine watchin’ you boys the last three weeks. It’s the first real sign that you boys were payin’ attention.” Kyle looked around the diner and whispered, “But remember, I know everyone here.”

  “T.D, you didn’t kill those boys, did you?”

  “You boys callin’ me a liar? T.D chuckled. “What makes you think so, Cole?”

  “We found those grave markers under the house when you were in town.”

  “Well, don’t I feel smaller than a tick turd.” T.D laughed. “I reckon you boys got me.”

  “Why did you lie to us, T. D?�
�

  “I was just tryin’ to get your attention, is all.”

  “Who were they, T.D. Who were the people in those graves?”

  “Tyler, if you must know, they was kin folk. My great-grandpa and his family. They’re the reason I own that stead.” T.D gave the boys a subliminal nudge.

  “Now I don’t know about you boys, but I’m so hungry my belly button is stickin’ out my asshole. What will it be, boys?” said T.D, trying to marginalize his ill deed, Tyler and Cole breaking into a smile. The boys seemed electrified by the news that the graves didn’t hold children, but instead held T. D’s family, and they were thrilled with T. D’s Juxtaposition of being caught in a lie. T.D gestured with his hand. Shirley came over, and the boys ordered burgers, something they hadn’t had in over three weeks.

  While they talked about the last three weeks, Shirley brought their burgers, and their appetite was voracious. They woofed them down, along with fries, topped off with two scoops of Neapolitan ice cream in a rolled waffle cone. They talked about Raven’s Peak, and T.D was impetuously interrupted by meddlesome cousins or friends with impassioned curiosity, who just wanted to talk and catch up. One young man walked up and asked T.D about West Virginia’s prospect for the upcoming season. T.D quickly blew him off. “Billy, you’re askin’ the wrong person, I don’t know beans about football.” Irritated at his laconic attitude, Billy went on his way with a shrug, a quizzical look, and a pronounced surliness in his tone when he said, “If you didn’t want to talk, just say so, T.D. I didn’t ask you for a loan for hell’s sake.”

  The lunch rush crowd wound down, so T.D walked outside, followed by the boys licking their cones, savoring every ounce. They sat on one of the picnic benches outside, on an island of grass, and took advantage of the warm summer afternoon and pastoral scenery. They talked at length, the boys jovial and intoxicated by the sugar rush that followed, after not having indulged in sugar for over three weeks. T.D sat on the bench holding their gaze, while they licked their ice cream, closing their eyes as the profusion of flavors slid across their taste buds. Sitting on top of the picnic table, feet on the bench, they had both hands on the giant cones, praying to a distant deity that the cones were bottomless.