by Joel Shaw
“I never wanted you to see this,” Faye said sorrowfully.
“See what?” Harold asked, inching forward to get a better look at the thing he wasn’t supposed to see.
“Is...is...that...Walt?”
“Faye allowed the body rise to the surface. Harold thought he recognized the man’s features immediately.
“Is that Walt?”
“Faye shook her head, Walt Junior...Walt’s oldest. He came by a couple of weeks ago on behalf of the families of some missing persons, including his father. He said he had searched the town for days and was unable to find anyone that knew of them.
“Missing persons,” Harold exclaimed “hell, there’s a world full of missing persons. Why in the world would he stop by your place?”
“I’m the only business open in town, that’s why.”
“So...who is he missing?”
“Walt Sr., John Morgan, Mark Rosen, Ernie Pyle and some others. Apparently they all all just disappeared...poof.
“Poof, huh? Were you the poofer?”
“Huh?”
“You know what I mean...did you have anything to do with their, ah, disappearance?” Harold hoped she would say no.
Faye nodded, sighed and began telling the story in hushed, guilt-ridden tones.
It happened little by little, Harold. You remember what it was like in this town in August of 51?”
“Sure I do. That was month Milton and I finished covering the quarry.”
Faye fell silent at the mention of the quarry. Things might have been different if Harold hadn’t kept it a secret. She would never know.
“That was also the month I finished digging the last of my tunnels. I had just come upstairs to clean up and found the four of them, Walt, John, Mark and Ernie sitting in my dining room. They were working on a bottle of moonshine and were pretty drunk. They invited me to join them and I declined, of course. I told them I had to go clean up and would they kindly leave the same way they came in. I didn’t think anything else of it. So, I went upstairs to take a shower, a few minutes later, there they were in the bathroom with me, all naked standing outside the shower, masturbating...” her faced turned a deep red, “...leering at me. It was disgusting. I tried to grab my towel but Ernie got to it first and they began playing a game of keep-away with me naked and them naked. Eventually they got around to the reason for their visit. They had discovered that I had tunneled into their store and was “helping myself” to their goods.
I couldn’t deny it. I was caught.
I offered to pay them and they laughed at me, saying that they had already decided that I would pay with my body.” She shook her head vigorously at the thought, “I tried to run, but they had me trapped in my own house. I let them take me.” She began sobbing uncontrollably and it was several minutes before Harold could calm her long enough to get the rest of the story.
“You mean they raped you, right?”
“Yes, Harold, they raped me then told me they were going to burn my restaurant to the ground.”
“Holy cow, Faye, that’s awful, what did you do?”
Faye rolled her eyes before stating what she thought was most obvious, “I killed them, Harold. I had my Luger in the dressing table. As soon as they were done with me, they started breaking things...precious things...I pulled the Luger from the drawer and shot each one of them in the head...twice.”
“Holy cow,” Harold said, “how did that make you feel?”
“It made me feel small...and vulnerable. But my daddy didn’t raise no damn shrinking violet. That’s for sure. I buried them down...well, you know where, and figured that was the end of it...until junior showed up asking questions. He really rattled my nerves. He kept insinuating that I had something to do with the disappearance of his father. I couldn’t get him to shut up. Finally, I couldn’t take any more of his abuse. I pulled out the shotgun and shut him up for good. I’ve been so busy lately, I didn’t have a chance to bury him. As soon as I saw that my basement was flooded I had to see what had happened over here.” She let junior bob to the surface again and gave him a kick,” This asshole was floating around like he was at the beach.” She laughed hysterically.
“Holy cow, Faye.”
“Nothing holy about it, Harold.”
“Well, I just don’t know what to say. Four...no...five murders? That’s a lot.”
“Fourteen.” Faye said flatly.
“Fourteen? Holy cow...when...who...why?”
“I’ll tell you all about it sometime, Harold. And please stop saying holy cow over and over. It makes you sound like an idiot. Don’t you have anything else to say.”
“Holy cow, no, I mean, what can I say. I had no idea, Faye. Holy cow.”
Faye pushed the swollen body of junior under water and giving the sodden corpse a mighty shove with both feet sending the bloated flotilla deep into the swill one last time before standing. “I suppose I should get back to the house, now. There’s nothing I can do here until the water level drops.”
“What are you going to do then,” Harold asked.
“I’ll come back and clean up around here. Life goes on.”
Harold put his arm around her waist as they walked back to the restaurant.
“I’ll help you,” he said softly.
“That would be nice.”
“By the way, have you seen Leland?
“Last I saw, he was chasing that red head down the road.”
Harold grinned, “It’s about time he started chasing something worthwhile. I hope he catches her.”
Faye sighed and grabbed his hand. “You haven’t been paying attention, have you?”
“What?”
“I’ll educate you...later...come on, I’m hungry.”
#
Milton, one hand on the lever the other on the throttle, was grinning in his new role as engineer. Like a child he marveled at the machinery that was propelling he and the train toward a new life full of possibilities. Suddenly the radio overhead crackled and a distinctive voice filled the cab.
“This is William Francis Koch Junior, speaking. Anyone got ears? Over.”
Milton grabbed the microphone attached to the radio and answered. “I have ears...I have a mouth and nose and eyes, too.” He laughed at his childish joke.
The radio crackled again, “This is William Koch, somebody better fucking answer me. Over.”
“I am answering, man.” Milton fumbled with the handset until he discovered the button labled ‘transmit’ and depressed it. “This is Milton Elroy Webber speaking. What can I do for you Mr. Koch?”
“Who the hell are you and where is my water?” William screamed.
Milton, feeling playful still, answered, “I’m the engineer of this here train and I don’t know a thing about no water.”
William was not amused. “Whoever you are, mister, you are on my train. A train that should be headed to Kansas City with a load of bottled water for my people. People who will be dying of thirst IF YOU DON’T GET MY FUCKING WATER DOWN HERE ASAP.”
Then it clicked. Milton suddenly realized that the William Francis Koch on the radio was the same William Francis Koch that Wes referred to before he died. This man was after the poisoned water that Wes had transported from Wisconsin to Minnesota. The same water that he had watched Hanson’s men load on the train. Not only that, William was the commander of the Homela...Black Swans. Milton’s life had just taken a turn for the better. That son of a bitch can have the water. He depressed the talk button.
“About your water sir, I have it on board. I just need some directions on how to guide this here train to your location.”
“Not a problem, mister,” William assured his new engineer. “I’ll take care of it.”
The End
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