The Mark (Weeping Willow Book 2)

by Steven Evans

  “Son, you remember when you said the people were crazy for panicking at the mere mention of the storms?”

  Nodding my head, I said, “Yes, sir. I do.”

  If he was a younger man, he would’ve been dancing a jig, as jittery as his old bones had become.

  “Listen, it’s not exactly the storms they’re all so scared of, but what the storms usher in along beside them. That’s where the soul joins the story!”

  I didn’t know where he was going with his answer, but it was clear that I had struck a nerve. I started pacing the porch, hoping it would give him time to simmer down and regain his senses before going over the edge of insanity right along with the rest of the loonies in this place.

  Staring off into the desolate fields, I said, “Well, have they?”

  Tired of waiting for an answer and thinking he had pulled a Mr. Harte on me now, I spun around, ready to confront him for an answer, but the poor old guy had fallen victim to another midday nap and was once again snoring heartily in his chair. I wanted to be mad, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to be upset with him. Age cripples us in many ways.

  I knew I’d have another chance to purge him of the answers I sought, so I scooted his glass away from the edge of the table, laid the straw down, and cautiously moved away. I remembered from my first visit how the loose boards had signaled my escape. Not knowing how many times Adder could tempt fate by being startled awake, I hopped over the railing.

  I was almost to the car when I heard his voice again.

  “Son, to answer your question, yes… several people have heard unexplainable noises in the night.”

  “People like James?”

  “Well, I don’t know this James, but people hear things all the time. It’s best not to dwell on the unknown so much. Nothing positive will come from it. Remember, in like a kitten and out like a lion!”

  I smiled trying to play it off, “I guess you’re right. Old houses and the wind and not being used to this place yet makes for mysterious happenings. It’s all.…”

  There was no reason to continue. His hibernating bear imitation had silenced my words. Shaking my head, I just turned and headed home.

  Chapter Six

  Old Wives’ Tales

  I was tossing and turning in bed from the pounding in my head. I buried my head under pillows, hoping they would muffle the symphony blasting between my ears long enough to count a few more sheep. I finally realized that it wasn’t only in my head. No, the noise was coming from the knocking at my door, and I wasn’t dreaming.

  I yelled out, “Ok, I’m coming!”

  The only visitor I’d had was Mr. Harte, so I was definitely not expecting this. Trying to recover from my sleepless coma, I staggered to the front door. As it opened, it revealed Adder standing there. I invited him in.

  Wiping his feet, he said, “Well, aren’t you gonna let your other guest come in, or are you just gonna make the Sheriff stay outside? That’s not very neighborly!”

  He was smiling, but he knew I was still somewhere lost between dreams and consciousness. I hadn’t even noticed the sheriff, as the fog hadn’t abandoned my eyes yet.

  I said, “Oh, absolutely! Sorry, Sheriff, please come in. Can I get you something to drink?”

  The Sheriff was a rugged looking man. His skin was like leather, dried out and tough. Light brown hair covered a massive skull. His arms were the size of fence posts. I knew, from the way he carried himself, he was one man you never wanted to find yourself on the wrong side of.

  The Sheriff answered, “Some coffee would be good; this old bird doesn’t know the meaning of sleeping in.”

  I said, “It won’t take but a minute and, how about you, Adder?”

  Adder asked, “You got one of them soda pops?”

  The Sheriff looked at him and said, “Adder, a man your age should stick to healthy drinks. Too much sugar might throw that ancient ticker of yours into cardiac arrest.”

  Adder wasn’t fazed. “Only thing could stop my heart is if some pretty young thing sat on my lap and rubbed my leg!”

  “Alright boys, let’s keep it clean. I’m not awake enough to follow along.”

  We all chuckled a little, and I handed them their drinks. I wasn’t quite able to think clearly just yet, but I still couldn’t help but wonder what had brought these two out here so early.

  “Well, I have to admit I wasn’t expecting anyone, so what has you beating my door down?”

  Adder chuckled and said, “If I beat your door down, you may wanna have it looked at. Anyway, I needed to make my monthly trip for supplies. Since it’s the Sheriff’s job to serve and protect, I enlisted his services.”

  The Sheriff shook his head as he looked around at my kitchen, “Yeah, like I have time to haul you around. Do you realize how much time it actually takes to hitch up the horse and buggy to taxi your crotchety rear end around? I swear I’m driving Miss Daisy. Where’s my hat and suit, Massa…I’sa sorry for not lookin presentable. Sorry, Massa, sorry… please don’t whips me…I’sa do better next time!”

  He was dancing around and flailing his arms and ducking like he was being swung at. This was all so strange. The Sheriff hadn’t said more than two words to me since I had been here, and, like everyone else, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid me, but now he was sitting in my kitchen talking like we were lifelong friends. I just didn’t know what to make of it!

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but you two still haven’t said why you’re here. And, I really doubt it’s to shoot the shit.”

  The Sheriff looked over at Adder and then back at me. “Well, it took some convincing on Adder’s part, but he finally talked me into this little ambush.”

  “Sheriff, forgive my bluntness, but you haven’t exactly tried to be a friend before. Hell, I don’t remember you ever showing any interest at all! So, what do you want to speak to me about?”

  Adder, frowning a little as he started to speak, “See, son, you’re always too curious. You never give a person a chance to speak. After our last conversation about strange sounds and weird things happening in the storms, well, I thought the Sheriff here might be able to set your mind at ease before you have an embolism or something. At least he may be able to answer some questions for you.”

  I said, “I see! So, Sheriff, what’s up? You gonna tell me why the people go out of their way to make me feel so unwelcome? Why they believe there’s something unnatural hidden within these storms?”

  Without missing a beat, he began to explain. “I’ll try. You see, these people, not unlike people from every part of the world, grew up with local legends. At this point, they’re no more than old wives’ tales. Just stories passed down from one generation to the next and so on. There may be a little truth to them. Well, when the stories originated there was. Things happen. Some are natural and easy to explain, but other things aren’t disregarded without some effort. Over the years-- and we’re talking many lifetimes-- the stories seem to almost take on a life of their own. They no longer resemble the events that gave birth to their existence in the first place.”

  “So, what you’re saying is these storms are only a rumor?” I still wasn’t buying into the Sheriff’s explanation, and it was boldly written on my face.

  Adder interjected, “Come on, just let him talk, Son!”

  “Alright, Sheriff, please continue.”

  The Sheriff said, “I suppose you could blame the parents. In order to make kids mind, do their chores, and go to bed without a fuss, we created these stories to do the babysitting and disciplining for us. You know, more or less old wives’ tales, local legends, and myths used to keep children in line.”

  Adder said, “Like kids looking in the bathroom mirror late at night and saying, ‘Bloody Mary’ three times. Nothing’s really gonna jump out and grab ‘em, but it’s the fear of the unknown, of what might happen, that keeps them walking the straight and narrow.”

  “Ok, yeah, I see. It’s like ghost stories around a camp fire. Telling of prank calls
coming from inside the house where you’ve locked yourself in. But, you see, there’s a big difference between those stories and what you’re describing.” Disgust painted across my face, I said, “Here there’s no reception. No cell towers or, Hell, I haven’t seen a single phone at all!”

  The Sheriff nodded as he went on, “Exactly! Except when you’re as cut off from the outside world as this town is, everything is amplified a hundred times. Trouble is, sometimes children are too simple in their ways to accept them for what they really are-- just stories. Their minds, hungry for knowledge, soak these tales up, and in trying to make sense of it, they invent an entire background, complete with a history to go along with it. Their overactive imaginations build a fantasy world where the stories come to life and take on human characteristics just so they can understand it. Well, to make a long story short, some kids just never find the strength to come to terms with the stories being made up. They cling to them when things don’t make sense; they hold on to them for so long that, well, the stories become their reality. They’re the only truth they believe, and they love to share their versions with anyone willing to listen.”

  “Sheriff, that’s a nice story, but that’s all it is! If what you’re saying is true, then the whole damn town has been brainwashed and now believes the storms are filled with a dark vengeance and usher in death!”

  Adder considered this for a second and then said, “I wouldn’t go as far as to say the whole town. But, yes a few, maybe.”

  The Sheriff seemed frustrated as he looked at Adder and said, “Well, I tried Adder! I told you he wouldn’t buy this lame excuse. I have to be going now.” He broke out in his little song and dance again, “Massa, we should be on our way.”

  Adder rolled his eyes and said, “Help me up, or we ain’t going anywhere.”

  “Wait! Sheriff, why did you say I wouldn’t buy it?” I asked, perplexed.

  He replied curtly, “That’ll have to wait for another time.” He ducked out the door and peeked at the sky. “There’s not much time now.”

  Watching Adder creep his way to the Sheriff’s car, I said, “Well, y’all take it easy and come back sometime.”

  They both grinned and waved, and when Adder was safely loaded up, the Sheriff said, “You’d be smart to stock up on some supplies. The second round’s about to bulrush us.”

  I stood there for a few moments staring down the road and watching as the dust trailed away from the car and disappeared. I turned to go back in as I thought about their visit. The Sheriff’s story, while entertaining, didn’t do much to settle my concerns. In fact, I was more confused now. Why did he say that I wouldn’t buy it? Why would they drive out here to explain away this nonsense they all believed so unwaveringly? They could’ve come up with something better than ghost stories and old wives’ tales! Though, I did think it would be wise to take his advice on getting supplies. Even if these storms didn’t amount to anything, I was getting low on Pepsi and snacks.

  Chapter Seven

  Pieces Come Together

  The little grocery store never had much. The shelves were mostly bare; there was some bread, bottled water, packaged meat, and a few other items. I searched the aisles for my precious Pepsi and ‘have to have’ junk foods, all the necessities of life, hoping my luck would change and they’d have everything on my list.

  Of course, I felt like the elephant in the room with all the eyes boring holes in my back. This was common: the stares, the low murmurs, and even the pointing, but I guess Mr. Harte was right. I would always be an outsider here. I was discouraged by that thought and quickly finished my shopping. One more stop, the drugstore.

  I walked in and up to the counter. There was no need to spend more time here than I had to. The Tylenol was under the counter, and that’s all I wanted.

  “James, can I get some more Tylenol, please?”

  My jaw hit the floor as James, the kid who never spoke to me and ignored me every chance he got-- except in the alley with that note-- actually spoke!

  “Yes, sir, you sure do go through a lot of these,” he said with a smile.

  I just stood there. I couldn’t talk. This was a first. He smiled again, looking playful and innocent. James was a meek and scrawny kid. I say kid but he had to have been at least sixteen or seventeen years old. He was average at best. He didn’t like to make eye contact and that gave the impression of being intimidated by his elders.

  “So… did ya find Adder?”

  “Yes, I did! You didn’t make it easy, though. Your directions were off by quite a bit.”

  I couldn’t figure this town out! The ones who had talked when I first arrived now wouldn’t speak at all, and those who had once avoided me at all costs seemed to want to talk now. Strange!

  “So why didn’t you just tell me his name and address? I could’ve done without the shadow stalking, and it almost got you punched in the face.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m sure glad you didn’t. I didn’t want ‘ouch’ to be our first words.”

  “Then why,” I asked, “are you talking to me now after all this time, after playing deaf and dumb for so long?”

  “Look, man…” He said.

  He suddenly became distraught and kept looking over his shoulder at the curtains. I also noticed that he was steadily wearing a rut in floor. Whatever he thought might be walking through the doorway had him visibly shaken.

  He continued, “There are too many ears around. It’s hard to speak to anyone, but I wanted you to know about the storms. That’s why I sent you to Adder. You have to be prepared, or they’ll…well, there’s a life to them! There’s something about them. They’re not normal, not natural! I know it sounds completely crazy, but you have to listen to me, please! No one else will be straight with you. The storms…there’s a power behind them. They search out those who are weak and lost, and they’re never heard from again.”

  After all the months I had been there and all the times he had pretended that I wasn’t standing right in front of him, this…this is what he had to say? Crazy wasn’t a strong enough description for this bullshit! Had the entire town lost their minds?

  Feeling agitated, I said, “Wow! Really! Living storms… not natural… people disappearing? Think you’ve spent a few hours too many in that freezer, and now your mind needs to thaw.”

  “Damn it! You have to believe me! Please, just give me a few minutes to explain! You’ll see, I promise!”

  “Fine, ok. Make me a believer!”

  I guess he could see the doubt and anger raging in my eyes, because he started off by saying something that stopped me in my tracks.

  “We all know your story. Your wife and daughter, all the evil you put yourself through and even the presence that pillaged your dreams. We know! They’re scared, even if they don’t completely understand why, because you’re the Alpha and Omega. It starts and ends with you. That’s why no one welcomed you! This town has a dark secret. We’re not allowed to talk of it. The elder believes we will become targets again if we ever give it…give her…a reason. Most can’t remember why they’re afraid. Their memories, while not erased, have been blocked somehow. As I was saying, these storms aren’t natural; they have an energy all their own. A life, if you will.”

  He took a long deep breath. I was sure it was because he knew that he was revealing things regarded as taboo.

  “It all started when the town was first founded. The leader was a preacher, believed to be the spokesman of God. His orders were blindly followed and carried out without question by all of his flock. But he wasn’t of God. He wasn’t even a spiritual man. His loyalties were purely based on selfish desires and becoming a living deity worshipped by his people. The atrocities he perpetrated on the very people he swore to protect and lead were inhumane.”

  I couldn’t believe the complete transformation in this kid I once thought to be mentally challenged. He was now talking so eloquently with a level of education I never would’ve known he possessed.

  James continued, “He viola
ted everyone’s trust, man, woman, and child alike… they all were willing victims to his cruelty.”

  I smirked, “Man, look, every town deals with a leader who abuses his power and takes liberties he claims comes with his title, but… and I ask this genuinely, what the Hell does that have to do with these storms?”

  His nervous laps sped up. He was moving rapidly from the cash register to the empty display rack and he was sweating profusely. His body language was screaming “Shut up and listen!”, and the claw marks scratched in the counter told of his hurried nature.

  He said, “Listen, if something should happen, I’ll find you. Just give me a chance to explain. That’s all I ask.”

  “Well, you haven’t convinced me of anything yet, so I guess I can listen a while longer, but I doubt you’ll change my mind.”

  “I promise it will all come together, and you will understand. There’s…”

  “No you don’t! James!” an older man who had appeared from out of nowhere interrupted. “James, you know better!” Mr. Allen said disapprovingly. “You’ve been warned, and now I’m forced to let you go! Get your things and go home; you’re no longer needed here!”

  James just slunk away like a dog hiding his tail between his legs in shame and vanished without a word.

  “Mr. Allen, was that really necessary?” I asked incredulously.

  He stood statue-like, dug firmly in his place as he turned his head toward me and said, “He’s been warned! He knew better, and yet he did it anyway!”

  “Did what?” I demanded. “All he did was talk to me. No law against that, is there?”

  “Now, I would think, with you being a grown man, you would have better things to do with your time and energy than get a boy fired from his job! Your mission is complete, sir, so you can go home now!”