by Nathan Roden
Charlotte and Nora flicked their eyes toward each other.
“Well?” Charlotte whispered.
Nora shook her head slightly.
“I got nothin’.”
Elizabeth snorted a laugh before she could stop it. She faked a cough and covered her mouth with one hand.
“I got nothin’?” she whispered while she looked at the floor. “Where did you—”
“Holly,” Charlotte and Nora said together.
The three of them looked up to find David staring at them. He did not appear to be angry. His eyes met each of theirs—one after the other.
“Do any of you recall the last time that you saw Arabella happy?”
All three shook their heads.
“Or the last time that you saw her smile?”
“No,” they all said.
“Neither do I,” David said. He blinked before looking away.
“When she sings…she smiles.”
Holly entered the room in a bathrobe, towel-drying her hair. She stopped when she saw the group that had assembled, which now included Butch and Ernest.
“Baron McIntyre, we have to do something,” Holly said. “We’ll not last the week with Bruiser behaving this way.”
“Aye, lass. It tears at my heart to see you tormented so,” Dallas said as he placed his hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “But we have a new strategy.”
“Pardon me, Sir, but could you let me in on this strategy?” Holly asked. “There is no time to waste.”
“We must discover a way to make Bruiser want to leave us alone,” Dallas said.
“Good luck with that, Dallas,” Ernest said. “Not more ‘n two hours ago, I heard Bruiser tellin’ a whole new batch of folks about the energy inside of this castle. He told them it was like ‘crack for the undead’.”
Elizabeth jumped and clasped her hands around Charlotte’s ears.
“Mister Atkins,” she said. “I have no idea what that means, but it sounds absolutely filthy.”
Ernest blinked, and raised his eyebrows.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am. I’m just tryin’ to help.”
Holly began massaging her temples.
“Baron, how do you expect to stop them while we are supplying them with crack? Whatever that means.”
“Holly,” Dallas said, “we’ve only begun to ponder the situation. We will need time—”
“We have no time,” Holly said. “These tours determine the fate of us all. Another day like yesterday and the citizens will march upon us with torches.”
“Hey, Dallas. You folks are more than welcome to stay with us,” Butch said. “We ain’t got a lot of room, but our home is your home.”
“Of course, them kids and grandkids of ours stay up half the night playin’ the ‘Halo’,” Ernest said. “But after a while, you don’t hear it much.”
“We appreciate your generosity, but that will do nothing for Miss McFadden or her friends,” Dallas said. “This castle is our only remaining connection to this world. Without it…”
“We cannot lose the castle, Father,” Charlotte said.
“The castle is all that we have,” Nora said.
Elizabeth drew her daughters close to her. She kissed each of them on the tops of their heads. Dallas looked at them. His heart and soul were tortured.
“David, where is Arabella?” Holly asked. “I rarely see her anymore, and we should be staying together, whether we like it or not.”
“We saw her on the way in,” Butch said, “You know, she looks a little different than the day we met you folks. She has her hair put up, sorta.”
“You know who she reminds me of, Butch? With her hair up like that?” Ernest said.
Butch cocked his head.
“We might be on the same page on this one, Cousin. She looks just like Patsy.”
Ernest punched Butch on the shoulder.
“Yup. Spittin’ image of Patsy Cline, Lord rest her soul,” Ernest said.
“Who is Patsy Cline?” Elizabeth asked.
Butch and Ernest pulled off their John Deere caps at the same time. Their eyes were moist.
“The voice of an angel, Ma’am,” Butch whispered.
“No finer woman ever walked the Opry stage,” Ernest said. “This earth couldn’t hold her, Ma’am. She was taken from us when she was but thirty years old.”
“She had the voice of an angel ‘cause she is an angel,” Butch said.
“Do you know this lady?” Dallas asked. “Have you seen her?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I believe she’s at rest,” Butch said, “far as we know anyway.”
“Unless she’s up in Nashville,” Ernest said, “or maybe Virginia, that’s where she’s from.”
“Why does this ‘Bruiser’ have so large an entourage eager to follow him into mayhem?” David asked.
“Some of ‘em were truckers,” Butch said. “Maybe not the best of truckers.”
“Some of ‘em used to get in fights every time they were in town,” Ernest said. “Others got hooked on the gamblin’ boats up north and lost their shirts. Some done themselves in, and some done in each other.”
“Most of ‘em ain’t from around here,” Butch said. “This here town has become a major vacation destination in case ya’ll hadn’t noticed. Some folks just met their end here in a bad way.”
Delbert Scoggins leaped into the room, landing in a signature one-knee stance.
“Viva, Las Vegas!” he sang.
“You’re a lot of help, Delbert,” Ernest said.
“What do you need help with?” Delbert asked.
“Weren’t you here yesterday?” Butch asked. “Didn’t you see all those rowdies acting a fool and raisin’ Cain? They’re havin’ their fun by tormentin’ the visitors—they might cause the castle to be torn down.”
“Maybe they’re just bored,” Delbert said. “You ever think about that?”
“Bored?” Holly snorted.
Delbert shrugged.
“You got stuff to do, young lady,” he said.
“And we got those same twenty-four hours to fill up with somethin’. Me? I still practice my show for no good reason. I practice my karate though I’ll never have a use for it.”
Delbert pulled a handkerchief from inside his jumpsuit and wiped his brow. He looked at David, and then at his handkerchief.
“So, where has that pretty sister of yours run off to, Twinkle Toes?”
David crossed the room and grabbed the handkerchief from Delbert’s hand.
“Just how many of these disgusting things have you hidden in there?” David held the handkerchief between two fingers. He crossed the room and threw the handkerchief out of a window.
Arabella appeared on the inward-facing Juliette balcony on the second story.
“David,” she sang out, “would you please—”
Arabella saw the Atkins cousins and Delbert Scoggins. She turned to run away.
“There’s that pretty little thing,” Delbert said.
“Can you FEEL it?” the distant voice of Bruiser Brady announced the arrival of his group. Butch and Ernest took this as their cue to leave.
Delbert ignored Bruiser’s entrance and walked directly underneath the Juliette balcony. He cleared his throat and launched into Elvis’s “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.”
Arabella froze.
She stood against the balcony’s cove, out of sight from below. She raised her right hand to cover her mouth.
Bruiser’s group of a dozen entered the room. They talked excitedly and all at once. When Bruiser heard Delbert singing, he turned and silenced his men by slamming his forefinger against his lips.
There was not another sound until Delbert finished the song. Bruiser approached him.
“Say, you’re not…you’re not him, are you?” Bruiser asked.
Delbert shook his head.
“My name’s Delbert. Delbert Scoggins. I’ve been an Elvis impersonator for quite a while.”
“That
was mighty fine singin’. You got Elvis nailed pretty good,” Bruiser said.
“What’s your favorite?” Delbert asked. “Uh, your favorite song, I mean.”
Bruiser’s eyes moved left and right before he leaned toward Delbert.
“My favorite?” he whispered. “That would be ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight?’ but I don’t—”
Delbert looked up toward the balcony and began to sing “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”
Bruiser’s entourage stared at him in disbelief. Their fearless, muscle-bound leader’s chin was quivering. He blinked rapidly as he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet.
“That’s enough!” Bruiser screamed. He leaned toward Delbert.
“You and your people need to clear out,” Bruiser said. “It’s about to get ugly around here.”
Bruiser was about to walk away when movement caught his eye. He looked up toward the Juliette balcony. For a brief moment, he locked eyes with Arabella. Arabella’s eyes widened before she turned and ran away.
Bruiser froze, and then he whispered to no one.
“Patsy?”
Dallas put his arms around his wife and daughters. He saw the exchange between Bruiser Brady and Arabella. Dallas nodded to himself while a quiet “hmmmm” vibrated in his throat.
“There are no more tours today, thanks to you,” Charlotte said. “So have fun rolling around in your crack all by yourself.”
“Aw, man!” Little Dougie Day said to Bruiser. He looked like a disappointed eight-year-old complaining to his father.
“She’s lyin’, Dougie,” Bruiser said.
Elizabeth was in Bruiser’s face before Dallas could stop her.
“My daughter does not lie, you piece of—”
“Elizabeth!” Dallas dragged her away.
“If I was not a Lady you would be feeling a pointed boot right in your bawnnfff—”
Dallas clapped one hand over his wife’s mouth as he dragged her away.
“This is not the way to resolve this issue, Darling,” he said.
They moved to Holly’s apartment.
“We’re on our way over to Luther’s place,” Butch said. “Dallas, you wanna—”
Dallas was shaking his head.
“Suit yourself, Baron,” Ernest said.
“When is the next tour?” Dallas asked Holly.
“Tomorrow afternoon at two,” Holly said.
“Will you be here all day, Holly?” Charlotte asked.
“Until this evening. I have to get some sleep right now. I’m exhausted.”
“Let’s go and find some place away from Bruiser, girls. Maybe you can see her tonight,” Elizabeth said, a hand on each daughter’s back.
“I’ll be gone for most of the evening. I’m going to supper with Mr. Westerhouse and we’re to see a movie with 3 D’s.”
Nora’s lip trembled, and Elizabeth looked at her with concern.
“I knew it,” Nora said. “He’s your boyfriend now, isn’t he?”
“No,” Holly said. “He’s just a nice boy, and he invited me for a friendly evening, that’s all.”
“No, that’s not all it is,” Nora said, the first tear escaping her eye. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Holly. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“Nora!” Elizabeth said. “Holly is your friend. Do not behave this way.”
“Holly,” Elizabeth said, “Nora doesn’t mean anything—”
Nora pulled away from her mother.
“What do you mean, ‘I don’t mean anything’, Mother! This is so unfair! Everything is unfair. Why am I expected to go on forever without someone to love? You have Father, and Charlotte is just a child.”
“What about Arabella, Nora?” Dallas said. “Her fate has been the same.”
“What does that have to do with me, Father? Arabella loves Arabella! Who else does she need? Oh!”
Nora ran away. Dallas started after her until Elizabeth grabbed his arm.
“No, Dallas. There is nothing you can say to her right now.”
Dallas dropped his shoulders.
Holly left the room. She stood in the hallway outside of her apartment, leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor.
Elizabeth found her there and sat on the floor beside her.
“I’m sorry, Holly. I should have seen that coming, but she surprised me.”
“It’s all right, Lady McIntyre.”
“Why don’t you call me Elizabeth? You know, before you know it, we’ll be the same age.”
“Yes, I’ve thought about that, strange as it is. When we first met I was younger than Charlotte, and now I’m older than Nora.”
“Aye, but you’re close enough to Nora’s age that we find ourselves in an awkward situation,” Elizabeth said.
“No. We’re not going to have an awkward situation,” Holly said.
“What are you going to—?”
“It’s already done, Elizabeth. I’m not willing to lose my best friends over some—”
“Over some what, Holly? Do you have feelings for this boy?”
“I… might.”
“She won’t stay this way,” Elizabeth said. “These things have been happening to young ladies since time began. This won’t be the first time that two friends have fallen for the same boy. I once had a friend who was madly in love with young Dallas McIntyre, don’t you know?”
“Really?” Holly asked. “What happened?”
“When Dallas came to court me he asked my father’s permission right there in front of the both of us. She held her feelings in until she was no longer able, and then ran away sobbing. She didn’t speak to me for most of a year. I would cry myself to sleep some nights because of it.”
“Did you ever become friends again?” Holly asked.
“Well, I would say so. I stood beside her at her wedding when she wed Evan McIntyre, Dallas’s younger brother.”
Holly exhaled.
“I can’t expect a fairy-tale ending like that, Elizabeth. I cannot do this.”
Elizabeth made as if to pat Holly’s hand.
“She may have it worse than the rest of us, Holly. Her Father was so protective of her for the last few years. Many young men sought her hand. A number of families of fine standing approached Dallas in the hopes that Nora might wed one of their sons. Many of Nora’s friends had already married—some even had their first child. Dallas was firm that no such favor would be given until Nora reached her eighteenth year. And so she remains suspended at such a difficult time in her life. She would have been eighteen in but a few weeks.”
“All the more reason that I do not contribute to her misery, Elizabeth. I’m not willing to sacrifice her friendship. I can’t.”
“I cannot tell you what to do, my dear friend,” Elizabeth said. “What Nora said is true. Dallas and I have each other, and Charlotte is but a child. The fact that Nora was so sheltered gave them reason to remain close, I believe.
“What do we do but guess about anything, really? None of us understands why we remain here—suspended between worlds. We don’t know why we still need to sleep. We have no physical need and we don’t tire in the same way that we used to—yet we do tire. One possibility occurs to me. If we had no time away from our thoughts—if we were constantly aware of our puzzling existence—we would simply go mad.”
“I have to believe that this will all make sense one day, Elizabeth,” Holly said. “Until then, I’ll have no part in anyone’s heartbreak. I’ve made up my mind.”
“You are a special person, Holly McIntyre,” Elizabeth said. “If I had to choose but one person to be able to see and communicate with us, I would choose you.”
Holly sighed.
“We’re in this together, Sister,” she said.
“To the bloody end,” Elizabeth said.
“Bloody poor choice of words.”
“I got carried away.”
The two ladies hugged. It didn’t work. They knew that it wouldn’t, but they tried anyway.
&n
bsp; Twenty-nine
Wylie Westerhouse
Branson, Missouri
I woke up Sunday morning feeling like a regular person. For several weeks in a row, I had gotten to bed between four and five A.M. after performing at the local pubs. Last night’s bedtime was just past midnight.
Toby was sleeping on his back—in full-on relax mode. He kicked his feet a couple of times before going still again. A silent waft of popcorn-scented doggie-poot floated under my nose. It had been a good Movie Night at Casa Westerhouse. Nobody’s perfect.
I slipped out of bed without disturbing Toby and started making breakfast. About thirty seconds into the sound of sizzling bacon I heard Toby’s feet hit the floor. He joined me in the kitchen, his tail wagging.
“The bacon will be ready shortly,” I told him. “Let’s make a trip outside. No more eggs for you, Stinker.”
I didn’t have to be at the castle until one o’clock, so I made some more popcorn. We had time to watch Braveheart. Again.
I sat Toby’s bowl of bacon next to his bowl of popcorn in front of the sofa. He ate both and then chose to lie at my feet instead of sitting beside me.
I was mulling over different strategies for getting through the crowds at the castle when I had an idea.
Why not take Toby with me? He’s protective and doesn’t care for crowds or strangers. I have the right to walk my dog, and if anyone chooses to invade our space, well they get what they deserve, right? I mean, Toby’s no pit bull or Doberman, but his growl is pretty intimidating.
When it came time for William Wallace, aka Mel Gibson’s “Freedom” speech, I quoted it along with him from memory.
“Are you inspired now, Laddie?” I said to Toby in my best Scottish brogue.
”Well, then, let’s be off to battle.”
The plan worked like a charm. Somebody from the media spotted me while I was trying to find a place to park. By the time I opened my door there were thirty camera-toting people heading in my direction. I had Toby harnessed and leashed. As soon as his feet hit the ground he barked and started his warning growl. No one got within fifteen feet of us.