“‘That’s fine with me,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen enough of this place.’ No lie here. I found myself wondering about the message Genovene had sent me a moment ago. My dream of never seeing her again definitely faded in the light of day.
“‘How about you, Jeremy?’ he asked.
“‘Yeah, I guess so,’ my brother said. ‘I could sure use a smoke, and I’ve got some more questions for Jackie.’
“‘Let’s get everything loaded up first, so we can be on our way out of here.’ Grandpa led the way over to the Jeep, and within a couple of minutes we had everything loaded in the back. Before we finished climbing back into the vehicle, the first raindrops descended upon us. Grandpa drove us back onto Black Warrior Road
, and before we reached Baileys Bend Road
, the dreary sky unleashed a torrid downpour on the area below.
“‘It looks like we left just in time, boys, and all in all I’d say it’s been worth it coming out here today,’ said Grandpa. ‘Though, perhaps Jack might disagree.’ He turned and smiled at me. ‘Sorry about your experience by the bridge, Jack. At least you and Jeremy have now had the opportunity to see what the area you visited yesterday really looks like—.’
“‘But, Grandpa,’ I interrupted, ‘this isn’t where the village was. It had to be a lot further away from here. It was probably way beyond those burial mounds over by the hot spring on the other side of the pool, maybe even a mile or so further into the woods.’
“He regarded me thoughtfully again. ‘No, Jack,’ he told me. ‘I believe your village was right there by the fort and hot spring. Much of your story, along with certain events that’ve happened there through the years, lead me to believe that. I’ll explain it to you later, tonight after dinner. I’ll tell both of you everything I know about this stuff. All right?’
“‘Okay,’ I agreed. ‘I may still feel like I do now, that the village was located somewhere further away than the area we went to today. Will you at least hear me out on this when you’re done telling what you know?’
“‘Of course I will.’ He chuckled at my reluctance to take his unproven word on the subject. Grandpa told me later it reminded him of my mom, and even my grandma for that matter.
“We followed the old dirt road, which was rapidly becoming a sloppy mixture of squashed grass, weeds, and mud, without another visit from Genovene and her funhouse from hell. It was as if Genovene, that sagacious witch, and her magical environment were restricted to the area we’d just left behind, much like a ghost that’s imprisoned by the dwelling it’s forced to haunt. Before long, we were back on the weathered asphalt of Bailey’s Bend Road
, and heading back toward our home.
“‘So, what was Genovene wearing today, Jackie?’ Jeremy asked me. He’d been silent for the past ten minutes, and it was clear where his mind had been.
“‘They were all dressed in purple gowns kind of like what Freddy wore for graduation back in May,’ I told him. It was a half-lie this time, but an effective one. Nothing like a direct hit when you needed it, since I knew Jeremy regretted quitting school early. The mere mention of Freddy’s graduation outfit should’ve, by itself, shut my brother’s mouth. Also, depicting the voluptuous figure of Genovene clad in an oversized graduation gown would hardly qualify as sexy in his mind, and I knew this. If he found out about the sheerness of the tight lavender outfits she and her sisters wore when I saw them on the bridge, Grandpa and I would’ve never heard the end of it.
“‘Hm-m-m...so that’s it, huh?’ he said, his voice lowered in disappointment.
“‘Yeah, that’s it,’ I told him, almost chuckling. I was punchy by now, and picturing Genovene in a graduation outfit with one of those ridiculous hats was almost too much.
“We veered onto Lelan’s Road, sliding slightly in the driving rain. Since we were almost home, Jeremy dropped the subject for the time being. Grandpa pulled the Jeep into its parking space next to the house, and the three of us jumped out and quickly unloaded our gear.
“Once inside the house, we headed for the kitchen, emptying the backpacks’ contents onto the kitchen table. To avoid a return to the subject of Genovene’s wardrobe and a possible link to the invisible sexual harassment I’d endured that afternoon, I offered an elaborate description of the pyramids looming just beyond the bridge, as well as the unusual designs etched onto their transparent sides. I did so awkwardly, interrupting the small talk between my brother and grandfather about how good a cold roast beef sandwich can taste when you’re really hungry. As I blurted out my ramble describing the wondrous scene on the Tombigbee’s western bank, Jeremy and Grandpa abruptly ended their conversation and turned their entire attention to me.
“It was if they’d decided to wait upon me to bring it up and didn’t know how to broach the subject of what I’d actually seen, given my near hysteria by the bridge and my reluctance at that point to elaborate on what’d happened. Once I realized this was all they really wanted, I relaxed enough to clearly describe the environment that’d suddenly appeared by the bridge. After I finished, we all sat in silence.
“Jeremy appeared to bite his lower lip, as if forcing himself to keep a painful promise not to interrogate me further about Genovene’s attire. Grandpa, on the other hand, stared out through the kitchen window, like he was reliving an experience from many years ago. He eventually turned his attention back to me.
“‘Well, son, that makes three truly unique experiences for you in three days,’ he said. ‘I’d say there’s never been a ‘Season’ quite like this one before—definitely not around these parts. I just hope what I’ve got to say tonight has relevance for you both, in light of this. If for some reason it doesn’t, please feel free to stop me from boring y’all.’ He stood up and pushed in his chair, picking up the condiments from the table and taking them over to the ‘fridge. ‘I thought we’d order a couple of pizzas tonight, boys, since I’m too beat to cook,’ he advised. ‘How’s that sound to y’all?’
“‘Sounds great!’ I said.
“‘I can live with that, I guess,’ said Jeremy, standing up and pushing his chair in also. He then headed for the sink to get his ashtray, a freshly lit cigarette dangling from his lips. It sat there precariously, bouncing up and down as he hummed an Alice N’ Chains’ tune.
“‘You know, son, if that damned thing falls on the floor and scorches the tile, you’ll be responsible for cleaning it up!’ Grandpa warned.
“‘Don’t worry,’ Jeremy assured him. ‘I’ve yet to drop so much as an ash on your pretty floor so far, have I not?’
“Grandpa glared at him for a moment. He then sighed and shook his head as he continued to clear the kitchen table of the remnants of our lunch.
“‘Ah, hell. I just remembered I’m supposed to help Freddy fix his carburetor this afternoon,’ Jeremy said. He carefully tapped the cigarette into the base of the ashtray, preserving most of it so he could finish it later. He then pulled out his truck keys and headed for the hallway. ‘Why don’t I get the pizzas, Grandpa,’ he offered. ‘I know what y’all usually like and there’s a new place over in Demopolis. If y’all are willing, we could try it out.’
“‘Sure,’ said Grandpa, pleasantly surprised by Jeremy’s offer.
“‘I trust you,’ I added. ‘But, are you planning to tell Freddy what’s been going on around here?’
“My brother frowned for a moment as if he was considering this idea for the first time. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he told us both. ‘At least not until I get a better handle on what it’s all about. I honestly don’t know what to think. Like Grandpa here, I shared in some of what’s happened and it’s pretty much fucked up my way of thinking. That’s all I can be sure of at this point.’ He threw back his hair from his face and checked his breast pocket to make sure he had enough cigarettes to last the afternoon. ‘Well, I better get going,’ he told us, and headed for the hallway. ‘I’m looking forward to what you’ve got to say tonight, Grandpa. Hopefully, it’ll help me understand everyth
ing a little better. I’ll see y’all in awhile. Is six o’clock okay?’
“‘That’ll be just fine, Jeremy. Don’t go racing out there,’ Grandpa told him. ‘We’ll see you in a bit with those pizzas.’
“‘Oh, and don’t forget to call Carl Peterson or Sheriff McCracken to tell them about that thing by the old fort and the hot spring,’ Jeremy reminded him, just as he stepped out of our view.
“‘I was just fixing to do that!’ Grandpa called after him.
“Jeremy’s slammed the front door as he left, and soon the heavy rumble of his customized truck filled the air outside our home until it faded as he pulled out onto Lelan’s Road. I could still faintly hear his vehicle as it pulled onto Bailey’s Bend Road
on its way toward Demopolis and Freddy Stinson’s place.
“‘Well, I guess I better call Carl and Joe,’ Grandpa sighed. ‘Are you up for helping me pick some vegetables from the garden after while, Jack, if it stops raining?’
“‘Sure.’
“‘Good. I was thinking a small salad might be nice to go with dinner tonight.’
“‘I’ll be passing on that, Grandpa,’ I told him, ‘and you know Jeremy probably won’t want one either. But if you want one, I’ll be glad to help you with it.’
“‘Actually, one of us will be enough to get the fixings if it’s just myself who wants a salad tonight,’ he said. ‘You’re still welcome to join me anyway, as I always enjoy your company.’
“‘Thanks, Grandpa. I’ll do that.’
“He excused himself from the kitchen and went through the dining room then into the living room. He called Carl Peterson to tell him about the latest critter we’d encountered. I was curious as to why he needed to make the call from the living room when there was a perfectly functioning phone in the kitchen. I decided it didn’t really matter, despite the obvious hushed tone Grandpa was using once he got Carl on the line. After briefly eavesdropping in the dining room, I felt uncomfortable spying on him, and since I couldn’t make out what was being said anyway, I gave up. As the rain had stopped and the sun now forced its way through the storm clouds, I went outside to wait for him on the back porch.
“The air was still thick with heat and humidity. I let the kitchen’s screen door slam shut to alert Grandpa as to where I went. The backyard’s vast array of insects had already resumed the daily activities they’d abandoned earlier on account of the weather. I smiled to myself at how resilient they were in the face of continuous adversity, and walked over to one of two chairs sitting near the steps that led down into the yard. I brushed a small spider web and a few stray leaves off the chair’s seat and sat down.
“‘Are you ready, Jack’ Grandpa asked once he came out of the kitchen and onto the porch a few minutes later, letting the screen door slam again. He held a pair of buckets along with work gloves and a straw hat for himself. He’d also brought along an extra pair of sunglasses for me to wear.
“‘Yeah, I’m ready,’ I said, and stood up to meet him by the porch steps.
“‘Carl told me he’ll contact Joe,’ he said.
“‘What did he think of what happened today?’
“‘He was a little surprised, I think,’ said Grandpa. ‘I get the feeling he still expects Vydora to re-emerge at any time. He hadn’t considered checking for her at the old fort area, though. He said as soon as Joe can spare a moment, he’d like to go out there and take a look. But after what I told him, along with what happened yesterday, I do believe he won’t be going anywhere near there unless he’s escorted by Sheriff McCracken and a couple of his armed deputies.’ Grandpa smiled and I couldn’t help chuckling at what he just said. ‘Anyway, since the sun’s back out, I thought we’d go on out to the garden now while we have the chance,’ he advised. ‘It’ll probably be a little muddy out there, so I’m going to put my old work boots on and you’ll want to change into the pair of old shoes you have sitting by the back door.’
“I told him I’d rather wear the hiking shoes I already had on. I assured him I’d be careful to keep them clean. He told me that’d be fine, and then came over and sat down next to me in the other chair near the steps. He took off his shoes and exchanged them for a weathered and torn pair of low-top boots, and then left the nicer pair of shoes underneath the chair he was sitting in. He stood up and straightened his trousers while motioning to me that he was ready to visit the garden.
“‘You may want to put these on, Jack, unless you’d rather wear my hat,’ he teased as he handed me the sunglasses.
“‘You can keep the hat, Grandpa,’ I told him. ‘I shouldn’t need the glasses either, since we’re only going to be outside here for a little while. Right?’
“‘Well, I had a few other things to take care of,’ he advised. ‘You can go back inside once we get the garden stuff together. I’d appreciate it if you’d wear these until then.’
“I went ahead and put on the glasses while Grandpa wore the straw hat and work gloves. He then led the way down the porch steps and around to the front of the house through the wrought-iron gate. As I mentioned earlier, the garden itself sat right next to the Palmer’s front yard. It was roughly a quarter of an acre in size and was enclosed by a waist-high picket fence. I ran up to it across our driveway and the slippery grass of the front lawn, opening the fence’s wooden gate for us to walk through.
‘The earth was still wet from the recent rain shower, leaving me to wonder why in the hell I actually agreed to do this. I stood on a thin strip of grass and one of the ornamental flagstones that bordered the garden. Once Grandpa realized he should’ve insisted on me dressing more appropriately, he told me to wait by the garden’s gate, and that he’d hand me the buckets when they were full.
“‘Sorry, son, I should’ve realized the garden would be like this,’ he said as he glanced at his wristwatch. ‘Damn! It’s almost three o’clock. We better get busy, here!’
“He gave me one of the buckets to hold, thinking it’d be easier to maneuver through the mud and muck with just a bucket at a time to fill up. Grandpa moved in amongst the well-kept plants, carefully avoiding the network of vines lying exposed upon the ground. The garden was filled with just about every kind of vegetable there is, like cucumbers, squash, carrots, and potatoes. There were several tall rows of corn, and shorter rows of cabbage, lettuce, and peppers—both hot and mild. There were even some fruit plants such as tomatoes, strawberries, cantaloupes, and watermelons. At the far eastern edge of the garden, there stood a pair of tall trellises full of concord grapes.
“‘I’ll be back in a moment, Jack,’ he said. ‘I’m going to start over there on the far end and work my way back here.’
“‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll be here waiting for you.’ I found a fairly dry flagstone near the gate and sat down on it. Grandpa was nearing the eastern end of the garden, but from where I sat, I could clearly see his work boots and the bottom portion of his trousers through the gaps between the plants’ leaves and stalks.
“The remaining clouds had nearly disappeared and the sun bore down unmercifully upon us. A medium-sized elm tree that stood in the Palmer’s front yard and hung over onto our property threw its misshapen shadow into the northwestern corner of the garden. A gentle breeze swayed the branches of the elm back and forth, giving life to the shadow, and made it appear as if it had scrawny arms with grotesquely long fingers or claws at the end of these arms. I shuddered again, despite the intense warmth provided by the sun’s heat, and turned to look directly at the tree, removing the sunglasses from my eyes.
“Nothing unusual. Nothing out of place. Just an old and very deformed elm tree. I turned back to face the garden, noticing my grandfather was slowly working his way back toward me. Suddenly, I became aware of someone standing nearby. At least that’s how it felt, and the intensity of the unannounced visitor’s presence, or stare, was enough to raise the gooseflesh on my neck, shoulders, and arms.
“I whirled around on the flagstone, but there was no one there. Only the elm tree
pushed to and fro by the soft breeze. I looked over toward our backyard wall and gate, but there wasn’t anyone over there either. Both our front yard and the Palmer’s were completely clear, yet the feeling of being watched remained.
“I turned around to face the garden again. Grandpa sifted through the corn less than thirty feet away. ‘Hurry, Grandpa. Please!’ I whispered. It now seemed to take him forever to gather the ingredients for his dinner salad. He looked up briefly and smiled at me, unaware I was sitting on pins and needles.
“I’ll be done with this bucket in just a minute or so, Jack!’ he called to me.
“‘Okay, Grandpa!’ I replied, silently hollering ‘Please hurry!!’ The eyes of the unseen presence grew more intense, as if trying to burn a hole through me. I seriously considered getting my shoes muddy and joining him in the middle of the garden, when the same disconcerting voice of Genovene returned.
“‘Ja-a-a-ck. Ja-a-a-ck!’
“‘Hey, Grandpa!’ I called to him. ‘Would you mind if I come join you?’
“‘Ja-a-a-ck!! You can’t ru-u-un! You can’t hi-i-i-de!
“‘Son, I’m almost done, so there’s no sense in getting your shoes muddy!’
“‘I will always know how to fi-i-i-nd you!! I will always know where you a-r-r-r-e!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!!!’
“Grandpa bent down to reach for a few young hot peppers from the plant. In that very moment, I saw a shadow standing to the right of the elm tree’s shadow. It loomed above the garden as the form that created it silently approached the garden’s fence. The shadow appeared to be that of a giant misshapen insect, much like the repulsive appearance of Genovene the day before. I froze, while the shadow shortened and its image became even more misshapen. I realized in horror it was bending down toward me.
“It touched me.
“‘Grandpa!!!’
“He looked up just as I stood and tried to run to him. The bottoms of my shoes were still slick from the wet grass, and I slipped on the flagstone. I fell headlong into the garden’s mud, snapping three vines and crushing a small butternut squash against my chest.
The Golden Talisman Page 28