The Color of My Native Sky

by L D Bloodworth

  “What’s wrong with you, Randall?”

  “Flu.” He faked a cough, lifting his hand to his mouth as if to stifle it. The back of his hand was a purplish green hue with a large red bullseye in its center.

  She tried not to glance at the white-gore pen, the stabbing instrument with which her father had chosen to punish himself. Her thoughts went to it, however, over and over again for the rest of her life.

  She sat in the wooden pew and tried to will the morning’s events from her mind. The entire church needed cleaning, a good deep scrubbing, and so she focused on making a plan of action to get it done while the associate pastor droned on about the book of Leviticus and all the hellfire and brimstone that they were all due. She just wanted to live and love and try to be somewhat happy doing whatever it was she did and not have to feel guilty about every decision she made, every word that crossed her lips, every thought that came to mind.

  Apparently, that was too much to ask for. She did feel guilt. Tremendous, heavy on her chest guilt that had Skylar’s name on it.

  She told her mother that she was going to spend the afternoon studying and that she needed some quiet time to herself. What she really had planned on was working off some of the frustrating pain that was building up inside her. She convinced herself that if she could just stay busy, she wouldn’t think about him so much. Or worry so much.

  She also wanted to use the time to see what the hell was going on in her father’s office. She had to mentally prepare herself for the chance that it might be just as screwed up, or worse than, what she’d seen the last time she was there.

  She turned the key and crept inside, closing the door behind her before starting to look around on the off chance that someone came up behind her.

  Marveling at how different things looked in the light, she powered up his computer and readied herself to search the web for her friends. A few of them were older than she was and knew Billy. They might have seen him out somewhere.

  The screen flickered and then stabilized into a picture of a golden cross on a blue background. When the system finished loading, she clicked on the internet shortcut and began surfing through all the social media outlets she could think of.

  She had a backlog of messages for a couple of the apps, but none of them were from Skylar or Billy. Since she had the opportunity, she perused the folders on her father’s desktop just to see if there were any clues as to why he was behaving so erratically.

  The answer would come quickly and when it did, she wished against everything she had ever known that it had not.

  19

  A sudden, shrill buzzing like that of a digital alarm clock startled her, sending her heart into a frantic gallop. The voice that issued from the weather radio blared its nasally, dire warning with a certain satisfied tone. Its overconfident ramblings concluded that there was a terrible storm brewing over parts of Grayson County and that they would all be remiss not to take shelter that instant. She gave him a sound slap right on the mute button.

  She came across it as she flipped through the multiple desktop screens. Inconspicuous, seemingly innocuous, it resided right alongside the others which were marked as sermons, notes, bible study, and the like. It was incomprehensible to her in many ways. One, that he would not try to conceal it. Two, that it existed on his computer at all. Three, why Billy Charlie was present among her father’s files and notes.

  But there it was, as blaring as the blood on his pen had been, a folder marked “Thinking Out Loud”.

  She felt as if everything inside her had been dumped into a pile on the floor, effectively rendering her silent and without breath. When the feeling returned, she began to turn things over in her mind.

  There was nothing else to be done. She double clicked her way into a rabbit hole out of which she knew she would never return. Billy’s face popped into the window of the video player app. Some kind of journal, she thought.

  Randall and Billy had become close in the three years since his father passed away, especially so in the past year or so. But were they close enough for Billy Charlie to trust him with something like that?

  And yet, Billy had to have given it to him. From the file extension she found, it looked like Billy had emailed it to him about the time he went missing.

  She turned up the volume, sat up in the chair, and clicked play. Billy Charlie was dressed in his work uniform, half unzipped in the front revealing the bulging pecks he worked so hard for. He smoothed his hair and slid his hands down over his face, letting out a rush of tension and emotion.

  His face was inflamed like he’d been crying and his voice shook with uncertainty. “Well, this is it. This is where I say my peace and get the hell out of dodge.”

  There was a long pause as he drew on a bottle of beer and then placed it in front of him. “You know, when we first became friends, I thought you were just about the best thing that had ever happened to me. I was trying to deal with being different and you helped me to accept the fact that not everybody would accept me and that was okay.”

  Billy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and tried again, “I never thought that I would find someone here, but I did. I fell hard for a man that is ashamed of me, ashamed to be with me. His wife doesn’t even have a clue that I want to be with him. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be in love with someone who hates what you are?”

  “He promised me that he would tell her, in time. I don’t think that’s ever going to happen, do you? He’s too worried about the fallout. Sometimes, I think that maybe I should tell her and let things play out as they will.”

  “This is me telling you that I am ready to reveal the nature of our relationship. That I need you to be there with me when I tell her.”

  “Edie Harper! What do you think you’re doing?”

  Mrs. Wheeler’s voice rang through the office, echoing from wall to wall and bouncing into her head like the ringing bell of a death march. She clicked on the folder, closing it, and picked up her duster, whisking it over the desk.

  “Just finishing up, Mrs. Wheeler. Checked some email while I was in here.”

  “I see. I don’t think your father would approve of your using his office computer for that now, do you?”

  “No, ma’am. You’re right. I was just leaving anyway, so, goodnight.”

  She gathered her things.

  “Can you lock up?” Edie asked, knowing it would stroke the woman’s ego and make her feel important.

  “Absolutely. Goodnight,” she said, smiling.

  20

  Edie couldn’t shake the heartsickness that came with finding that video on Randall’s computer. It had to mean one of two things: either he knew who Billy was seeing and therefore much more about his whereabouts, or…she didn’t want to think about the alternative. She didn’t know what to do with it.

  Rix was waiting for her in the parking lot. She was sitting all the way across the lot on a bench outside the youth center, smoking a cigarette in her eighties punk attire.

  She felt a kind of kinship with Rix ever since she’d spent the night taking care of her and Rix tolerated Edie more than she did most.

  “How’s it going? How’s school and all?” she asked.

  “My best friend is missing and my dad’s gone off the rails.” Edie paused and kicked a rock across the pavement. “And I’m flunking out.”

  “Well, brace yourself for more, my friend, because I have some news, but you might not wanna hear it.”

  “Yes, anything.”

  “I think Skylar is with Marla.”

  “What? Why?” She felt her face flush and her pulse quicken.

  “Now, before you go and get all pissy, I want to tell you what I’m hearing.”

  “All right,” Edie said, perching beside Rix on the bench.

  “I got a call from a waitress at the Devil’s Den. She said that she was gonna get laid off because business was bad.”

  “So?”

  “So, business is bad because the boss lady’s
crazy ex-boyfriend is shacking up there and he’s causing problems.”

  “Sounds like him.”

  “We’re gonna have to go get him.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. He won’t come home for me, I already tried.”

  “That is none of my business.”

  “You don’t understand. Marla is no good. She just uses him up and then throws him out. He’ll get to drinking if he stays there, drinking too much and smoking too much and then, then he’ll be in the hospital again.”

  “Again?”

  “You’ve been fucking him, Edie, I know you saw the scars.” Rix sighed and said, “Sky is in a dark place and you need to talk to him even if you don’t have a future together. You’re gonna have to go get him.”

  “All right. You got the truck?”

  The wind pushed and pulled at the pickup as it barreled into the storms. Rix fought to keep her hands on the steering wheel when a gust threatened to pull it from her grasp.

  Edie worried that they might be headed into no man’s land where Skylar was concerned. With no way to know what state he was in, they were running blind into the squall line.

  They hit a wall of rain that pelted the truck with watery bullets. The wipers worked to clear the sheets of rain that fell over the windshield, hampering their vision. For a solid ten minutes, they tried to make progress, but ultimately pulled over into the emergency lane to wait it out.

  They sat in the truck silently willing the rain to dissipate. Edie got to thinking about Billy’s heartbroken message and wondered why he wanted Randall to be there with him when he told the man’s wife. She couldn’t see how that would involve her father.

  The radio blared news of wind damage and flooded roadways. A meteorologist, or a guy who claimed to be one, said that the whole area would be under a tornado watch for the next few days and that they should remain vigilante during this especially dangerous weather situation.

  She wasn’t sure how reliable the forecast was, but the sky was turning a greenish blue-black color like a faded bruise. The sun lit up the clouds, making the cloud bank glow as it churned upward. She was just going to turn to Rix and tell her that they needed to get out of the storm, needed to move on down the road to a gas station, someone’s house, anywhere. That’s when she saw it.

  The metal framework that held the huge green signs over the highway was writhing and twisting like some angry snake. Paint broke free from the metal poles and scattered, flying above them in a flock of gray squares. Smaller chips of metal and debris pelted the windshield. The spinning tail of the storm dipped down and then disappeared behind the wall of rain.

  A wave of green metal crested in front of the truck and then with a thundering pop, flipped itself up over the truck. She heard Rix scream and then everything slowed to a frame by frame play of their deaths.

  She saw Rix cover her head. Sheets of rain drove past the stopped vehicles.

  There was something breaking and then the floorboard was showered by shards of glass.

  And she wasn’t afraid of dying. In that moment, she saw his smile, felt his whispers on her neck and she was afraid that she might never get the chance to tell him that she loved him.

  That was the first time she prayed since she was a little girl.

  **

  After all was said and done, she and Rix walked away with little more than bruises and scratches. They took a ride from the police to the Devil’s Den, where she fully expected to find Skylar shacked up with Marla.

  Still shaking from their near-death experience, they gladly took the shot of whiskey that was offered on the down low. Marla emerged from the offices in the back just as they finished.

  “Marla,” Rix said. “Where is he?”

  “He doesn’t want to see you. He says that taking care of you all has been hard on him. I think it’d be best for him if you just stayed away from him.”

  “I don’t buy that. Skylar loves Rix and the girls,” Edie argued.

  “And I guess you think that he loves you, too?” Marla laughed and nodded at the bartender, “Give them another shot. Then show them the door.”

  “You’re not kicking us out. I know he’s here.” Rix was off the barstool and tiptoeing so she could be closer to Marla’s face while she yelled at her.

  Edie noticed the bartender giving her sidelong glances and then redirecting his gaze toward the back offices. Taking the hint, she slipped away while Rix kept Marla busy.

  Moving past the dance floor and through the obscure seating areas, thoughts of what she’d done there with him made her face flush. No one else would ever make her so crazy.

  There was a narrow corridor behind the stage where the offices were. She noticed the exit door straight ahead and decided to have a look around the back.

  She stepped out into gently falling rain and saw, past the employees parking area, another building that looked like a garage with a loft apartment above it. There were house numbers beside the door at the top of the stairs. Something told her that Rix was right. Skylar was here.

  He emerged from the second story balcony and jogged down the steps to meet her. “What the hell are you doing out here in this weather? There was a tornado that touched down about two miles from here?”

  “Almost dying.” It was the truth. “Rix and I got caught in it on the way down here.”

  “Are you all right?” He was suddenly searching her person, presumably looking for injuries, his brows knit into tight furrows. He took a step toward her and then stopped as if remembering a reason for not touching her.

  “Sort of. Have you been here this whole time?” Edie asked.

  “No.”

  “You know that Rix and Wendy are gonna get kicked out if you don’t come back and try to work something out about the taxes, right?”

  “I’ve got some money saved up, I’m going to pay what I can of the taxes and make payments on the rest. They can live there as long as they want.”

  “So, you’re not planning on coming back?”

  She noticed a duffle bag, half stuffed and still open, had been thrown onto the couch. Skylar picked up a stack of folded clothes and crammed them into it.

  “Go home, Edie.”

  “You need to come with us. Your friends need you.”

  “What do you want from me? You think I can just come back and pretend like everything’s okay? I can’t do that.”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “I don’t wanna run into you at the cafe or on the sidewalk.”

  “I want to be with you, Skylar.”

  “You only wanna be with me because you feel guilty. Don’t bother, I don’t need your fucking pity.”

  The way he hurled the words at her pelted her already battered nerves and brought the sting of fresh tears to her eyes. She blinked them away too late and one fell onto her cheek.

  He stepped toward her, hesitated, threw his hands up in exasperation and yelled, “I wanted to get to a place so you would wanna be with me. To be better. To be different. I had this grand plan to come back a new man. A not crazy, normal guy for you and I fucked it up. I couldn’t face you and tell you why I am the way I am. I can’t cut it as a normal guy, Edie. I’m sorry!”

  “Will you please tell me what the hell you’re talking about? Just tell me! I care what happens to you and after everything that’s happened between us, you owe me that. You owe me the why.”

  “I’m crazy,” he said softly, the words coming out as a confession.

  “Not crazy,” she whispered, cupping his face in her hands, at last able to understand.

  Skylar was like the storm, raging and unpredictable one moment and in the next, gentle and beautiful, but he was not crazy.

  21

  It was Tuesday when they came back to town. Marla drove them down herself after putting them up for two nights. Marla had been there for Skylar when she had not and Edie would not fault her for that.

  The weather had finally settled and the aftermath of the passi
ng storm lay strewn about the streets and lawns of the entire town.

  They arrived to find the coroner’s van, and a car with the local news station’s logo on the side converged on the street in front of the house. In the driveway, a swarm of blue lights flashed the front of the house turning it into a neon billboard of brick. The sheriff came out the front door just as they pulled up.

  Marla let them out of the car and took off back toward the Devil’s Den.

  “Edie,” he said, tipping his head toward them and giving Rix the once over. “You don’t happen to know Mr. Wolfe’s whereabouts, do you?”

  “What do you think you’re doing? I live here, what are doing in there?” Rix yelled.

  “Rix!” Wendy shoved her way out the door, past the gathering group of cops. “They fucked the whole place up.”

  “What are they doing here?” Rix asked.

  “I got up to go to the cafe this morning and there was,” she sobbed, “there was a dead guy in the back yard. I thought he was passed out drunk or something. I tried to wake him. He was blue. Oh, my God, Rix, he was blue!”

  “Shh, it’s gonna be all right,” Rix pulled Wendy into a hug.

  “Billy Charlie,” Edie whispered. Somehow, she knew it was him. No one else would quite look her in the eye.

  “Again, we’d like to get your whereabouts last night and those of Mr. Wolfe. Do you know where we can find him?”

  “He’s at a friend’s, why?”

  “Can you please give me his contact information?”

  “Sure,” Rix said, a little bewildered. “He’s staying at the apartment behind the Devil’s Den.”

  “Do you have that number? I’ll need to verify his whereabouts last night.”

  There was only one reason why a police officer would need that information. What were they saying? That this person, this man they found dead in Skylar’s backyard was murdered? She didn’t remember ever having heard of a murder in Barrett. It just didn’t happen there.

  “Was it him, Sheriff?”

  “What’s that?”