“If yer too good for our facilities, you can piss yer pants for all I care,” he growled, purposely aiming the bus into every hole and divot in the road thereafter.
I glared at the back of his head from my seat. He glared back through the rear view mirror.
It was a standoff and he was winning.
“Piss break,” he finally hollered as we rolled into the parking lot of a run-down, roadside bar. I watched my fellow passengers––an old couple with a squawking bird, three teenaged boys who kept referring to my rack, and a young man who kept his face buried in a book––slush past me on their quest to find a real, working toilet. The twitchy man across from me rubbed his greasy palms through his even greasier hair and offered to sit with my suitcase if I needed a break.
I dislodged it from its spot and hefted it out of the bus, giving the driver a dirty look.
“Where are we?” I asked one of the teen-aged boys, who shrugged in response. I then asked the book-reading man, who informed me that if I had kept my paper itinerary, as he had, I would know exactly where I was.
I should have taken a plane, I thought, then dismissed the idea.
I had never flown anywhere in my life, and as much as I now hated traveling by bus, the thought of sitting in a metallic floating machine made my knees weak. No matter how many people explained the science of it to me, it didn’t seem possible.
And at least the scenery had been pretty. I had spent hours leaned up against the cool glass window, watching as California faded into Oregon. The landscape was lush, green, rolling, straight out of a portrait. A man I sat next to for awhile had been tracking Big Foot, he said. Looking out the window, staring at an endless horizon of nothing but trees, it was hard to discount his beliefs.
Anything might live in these woods. Fairies, elves, even a Sasquatch.
“Twenty minutes,” the driver called to us, shutting the double glass doors behind him. I was near the last in line for the bathroom, slowed down by my over-sized suitcase. The twitchy man leered at me through the bus window.
I looked around as I waited my turn.
A neon sign announced that we were at the Fat Chance Bar. Only a few beat-up cars and trucks dotted the parking lot. A wooden door led into the main bar. The busser’s bathroom, according to a crudely-written sign, was located on the side of the building.
I grabbed a Pay Day bar out of my purse and gnawed on it while waiting my turn. A gust of wind caught my skirt, sending it floating above my thighs and the teen-aged boys elbowed one another.
I was startled by the ringing of my newly-acquired phone.
I removed it from my bag and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Maggie! Are you okay? I heard you were coming home by bus.”
I was surprised to hear Merry’s voice. I wasn’t sure how she had gotten this number, but I could only guess that Jason had something to do with it. I turned my body away from the crowd and cuffed the mouthpiece with my hand.
“I’m fine. Almost home, I think. Ready for me?” I laughed nervously. When she said nothing I continued. “...Where’re we meeting? Not Mom’s, I hope? I don’t think I can handle jumping right into things without getting my feet wet first.” My fingers tightened around the phone. What would come would come...but hopefully not tonight.
“No. We are meeting at Harvest Home, if that’s okay? I just got here this morning.” Merry paused, sucking in her breath. “Maggie, Mom’s not good. I had heard things were bad, but I didn’t know they were this bad. I think we all need a good night’s sleep before seeing her.”
She laughed, a nervous laugh, and it took me aback. Merry never got anxious.
“You reach our sisters?” I asked casually, grabbing the handle of my suitcase and moving up in line.
“I tried. I can’t find she-who-shall-not-be-named at all. I even looked her up on the Internet and tried to email someone with that name. No response.”
“Email? They still doing that?”
Merry laughed. “Maggie, you are so funny sometimes. I miss that.”
I smiled, feeling the distance between us melt away. We may not have seen each other for eight years, but we were still sisters. “And Eve?” My eyes turned upwards, towards the darkening sky. “Aunt Dora told me she had moved to New York a few years ago. Acting, right? If I know Eve, she’s too busy leading her glamorous life to come back to Dark Root.”
“Well...” Merry’s voice tightened. “Eve will be here late tonight. She’s catching a ride from a friend.” She tilted the word like she were trying to push it down. She had never approved of Eve’s friends. Bad news, the lot of them, but that didn’t stop Eve from collecting them.
“Well, I should beat her there, then,” I said, relieved. “If all goes well.”
“I can’t wait to see you, Maggie. I miss you so much. We’ve been apart too long.” The words slid from her throat and wrenched my heart. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said, her tone light again.
“A surprise? Is he six-foot-tall and rich?” I teased, leaning against the wall of the Fat Chance Bar.
“Nope. But I think you will like it, just the same. Can’t wait to show you.”
The excitement in her voice warmed me, and for the first time, I couldn’t wait to be home. If only to see my Merry.
“Okay, enough Hallmark talk,” I said. “See you on the flip side.” Merry knew this was my cue to leave. I hung up, not letting her say goodbye. I hated goodbyes.
I turned towards the restroom when a young man in a blue t-shirt and faded jeans stopped me. “Excuse me miss, I couldn’t help but overhear. Did you say you were going to Dark Root?” He grinned, his white teeth almost glowing in the near dark. He was clean cut, lean, and muscular. And he smelled too good to have been riding the bus.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a read on him, but I came up empty.
“Yes,” I finally answered, pointing to the bus to let him know I wasn’t alone. There was a big, hairy driver manning the wheel who might not like it if one of his passengers, albeit an annoying one in his words, came up missing.
“You from Dark Root? Or just visiting?” His shaggy brown hair flopped into his face, obscuring one of his grey eyes.
I shook my head, confused. I wasn’t used to people being interested in my personal life.
“...Sorry, this must seem weird,” he continued. “I don’t meet many people going to Dark Root, anymore. Name’s Shane. I own a little cafe there on Main Street.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little, white card with the words Dip Stix Cafe written in red font across the front.
I blinked at him, still not quite understanding.
“Yeah, I get that look from women a lot.” He laughed, pushing his hair out of his face. “I’m from Montana, where there’s more deer than people. I may not be good at talking to girls, but if you ever needed an Elk whisperer, I’m your man.”
I handed him back his card, but he shook his head, indicating that I should keep it.
“Wait a second,” he said, his eyes flickering with recognition. “I know who you are! You’re Evie’s sister! Maggie!” He leaned his head back and laughed, like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. “Well, I’ll be. Imagine me meeting Evie’s older sister out here in the boondocks. What are the odds?”
I tilted my head to the side in a questioning manner.
He continued, undeterred.
“...You don’t remember me, do you? We played together when we were kids. Well, I played with Eve, while you made fun of us.”
I snorted. “That could be anyone,” I said, smiling at the memories. I had never really been able to rattle Eve or her friends, but I spent much of my childhood trying.
“Same old Maggie,” he said, grinning again. “I guess you heard what happened to your ma, then? Sorry about that.”
I bit my bottom lip. “Yes,” I lied. Merry had not yet filled me in, but I wasn’t going to let this stranger know that. “...And we are handling this privately, as
a family.”
“That’s good,” he nodded. “Family’s important.”
He looked towards a white, extended-cab pickup that sat at the rear of the lot.
“Well, you have my number,” he said. “I have to get going. There’s a restaurant about thirty minutes south that’s going out of business. I’m seeing if they have anything I could use, for cheap. Call me if you need anything. And look me up once you get to town.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Unless,” he said, turning back. “...You want to ride along? It might put another few hours in your trip, but you wouldn’t have to ride that thing.” He jutted his chin towards my bus.
I considered it, briefly.
Although I very much wanted to get off of the bus, I really wanted to see Merry before Eve got there. I couldn’t afford a two hour delay.
“No thanks.” The line before me had cleared out, and I stood in front of the restroom door. The driver started up the bus, indicating that we were leaving soon. “I better go.”
“Yeah. I got you. Say...” he said, scratching his head. “Is Eve going to be in town? I’d love to catch up with her too.”
I shrugged and twisted the knob on the door.
He smiled. “Bye, Maggie Maddock. We’ll be seeing each other soon.” He waved and went back to his pick up.
I pushed my way through the heavy bathroom door, turned on the flickering, fluorescent light, and finally peed. I had held it in so long that it almost hurt to go. After washing my hands I looked at his business card again. Shane Doler.
I still couldn’t place him, but the name sounded familiar.
I plugged the number into my phone––a trick I had learned from one of the teenaged boys on the bus––and put the card back in my pocket. I then left the bathroom, suitcase in tow. It was darker now, like someone had flipped a light switch to the world during the few minutes I was inside.
I was all alone. The bus had gone.
Fat Chance Bar, Central Oregon
September, 2013
I stood for a moment, like the proverbial deer in headlights, except that, instead of a headlight, there was a neon sign blinking Fat Chance Bar.
My head was foggy, refusing to accept what had happened. My bus was coming back for me. I knew it. The driver was just trying to teach me a lesson. I raced into the parking lot, looking down the road. The bus was nowhere in sight.
I still had my cell phone. I could call Jason. I knew that he would drop everything to rescue me. But the idea of Michael answering instead stopped me cold.
I had Shane’s number too, now. He might turn around and get me. It was partly his fault I was in this mess, anyway. If he hadn’t stood there yammering on, I would have had plenty of time to get back on my bus. Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to dial his number, either. I was too embarrassed about my predicament.
I glanced at the door, wondering if I should go in.
In all honesty, I hadn’t been in many bars. Dark Root had only one corner tavern and I was twenty when I left, too young to have gotten in without a report being sent back to my mother. And Michael didn’t believe in drinking, so there was no chance after that. The only thing I knew about bars was what I had seen in the movies––dark, vile places that smelled like vomit and were frequented by rogues and smugglers. Sometimes there were shootouts, sometimes light saber fights. Either way, I wasn’t sure I’d fare well.
I swallowed, summoning my courage. I could wait inside while I figured out who to call to turn my bus around.
I dragged my suitcase to the front entrance. It hit every rock in the asphalt, twisting and tipping and being generally unmanageable. I tried picking it up, but it was too heavy. As I wrestled with it, a car raced into the parking lot, kicking up sand and gravel as it performed donuts. Two young men whooped through open windows before braking abruptly, just a few yards away from me.
I watched them emerge, all flannel shirts and shiny hair, smiling at me.
“Hey baby,” said the first one, advancing in my direction. His blond hair was slicked back and his jeans were tight. I took a step back, pulling my suitcase with me. “I haven’t seen you before. You new in town?” He continued towards me.
The other man hung back, grinning, his front tooth chipped.
“Don’t be scared, darling. I just want to know your name.” His step quickened. “Maybe we can have a drink together. I’m parched.”
I dropped my bag and ran for the door.
“Look at her run!” The one in back said, slapping his thigh. “I don’t think she likes us.”
“Quiet, Johnny,” the first man ordered, chasing me.
The door wasn’t far, maybe less than a hundred feet, but it was dark and I tripped on something, sending me sprawling face-forward, onto the ground. I could feel the greasy man behind me and I struggled to get up, but he was on me, yanking me by the wrist and knocking the cell phone out of my hand. I tried to pull away but he tightened his grip.
“Looks like we got us a fighter,” he said, grabbing at my other wrist and securing them both in one of his large hands. “God, I love redheads.”
He shoved me backwards and I felt my head smash against the building as his friend hollered and howled behind him. With his free hand, he grabbed my chin, tilted it back and forced me to look into his dark eyes.
“Kiss me,” he ordered.
His breath smelled like bubble gum and alcohol. I screamed, a blast so loud I couldn’t believe it was coming out of me. It was cut short with another forceful shove into the wall.
“Shut the fuck up!” He covered my mouth and nose with a hand as he wrenched my legs open with his knees. He turned slightly, beckoning for Johnny.
In an instant, his friend was by our side.
“Listen, girlie. We can make this enjoyable for all three of us, or we can make it enjoyable for two of us, and pretty fuckin’ miserable for the other. You understand?” He released his grip on my hands and reached to touch my breast.
I wriggled, freeing a leg. I lifted my knee and thrust it into his groin.
He gasped, doubling over.
When he stood again, his eyes were dark, crazy orbs. Johnny unzipped his pants, ignoring his injured friend.
“Not yet, dummy,” the first man said, leading me away from the wall by pulling my hair. I went to scream again but he had his free hand back over my mouth. “Help me get her into the car.” He turned to me. “You get one more chance. Be a good girl and we all go our merry ways. Be a bad girl and we take a drive. Understand?”
I pushed my lips together and nodded, my eyes darting towards the door a few feet away. I prayed that someone inside had seen or heard me.
“She’s shy,” Johnny said, opening the door to the back seat of their car. “Or maybe a virgin. A virgin would be fun, huh, Steve?”
“You fucking dumb ass,” said Steve, shooting Johnny a dirty look. “I told you never to call me by name.” Steve did a quick glance around the parking lot to make sure that we were still alone. Satisfied, he pushed me into the back seat and followed, closing the door behind him. Johnny got in the front and turned on the engine, leaning over the seat to watch us. His eyes glittered like a rat’s. Steve pushed me backwards, flattening his body onto mine.
Once I was secured he began removing his belt.
I was sick with fear and unsure of what to do. One wrong move could be my last. I couldn’t allow myself to give in to that fear. I had to stay rational, focused. My life depended on it. Think. Think. A memory came to me, Michael giving me a self-defense lesson before sending me out to recruit new members. I remembered his words.
It’s easier for someone to hurt you if they don’t see you as a person. Put a name to your face.
I heard a clicking sound. Steve unsnapped his jeans.
“Please, don’t do this, Steve. Please.” I looked into his eyes, trying to force a connection. “My name is Maggie. Magdalene. I’m twenty-seven-years old. I grew up in Oregon. I have three sisters and a mother and an
aunt and they are all waiting for me right now.”
Johnny hammered his fist on the upholstery, but Steve didn’t answer. His face was stone as he stared back at me.
“...They are waiting for me to come home.”
I noticed a ring on Steve’s left hand and I took a chance. “Do you have a wife, Steve? A daughter?” I looked into his eyes, trying to calm my shaking body. “How would they feel if they knew you were doing this? You’re a good guy, I can tell.”
Steve’s face softened for a moment, and I wondered if I was reaching him. Then his eyes turned to dark slits.
“Don’t you ever mention my daughter again,” he whispered, pushing his pants down around his knees, but his underwear was still on and I wondered if he was having second thoughts. I opened my mouth and Steve snapped his fingers at Johnny, pointing at the stereo on the dashboard. “Play something to drown this bitch out.”
Johnny nodded, his whole body rocking as his eyes darted from side to side.
“Got it,” he said, hitting a button on the dash. ‘For Those About to Rock, I Salute You’ blasted through the vehicle. Steve tugged at my skirt and motioned for Johnny to keep watch outside, but Johnny just continued to leer at us. “I ain't gonna miss this,” he said, pounding his hands on the passenger door in time to the music.
Realizing I had nothing to lose anymore, I fought back, twisting, turning, and biting at him like a feral cat. “Go for the nose, the eyes, and the throat,” my self-defense teacher’s voice came back to me, and I attacked Steve with a ferocity I didn’t know I had.
But he was quicker and stronger, capturing my hands each time they slid from his grip, calling me names I had never heard before.
Johnny jumped around in the front seat muttering, “Oh man, oh man,” and “For those about to rock I salute you.” Steve told him to shut the fuck up and Johnny retorted with, “Who are you to tell me what to do? You can’t even control one little girlie.”
I gnashed my teeth, tearing into Steve’s ear, ripping off a small piece. It tasted like iron and salt.
The Witches of Dark Root Page 7