“No, I never let her out alone. She’s always with my other boy, Tomas. He's the one with grandes cojones,” Tye said laughing and gesturing with his hands. “But you’re right. She won’t be out here again unless I’m with her. Besides, the only reason she’d take the chance was because we were looking for mi hija. Now that she’s safe with us they won’t be leaving out again. El hombres are mucho loco now.”
The man laughed, “Where you from?”
“Texas, originally. My father was born in Puerto Rico,” Tye replied.
“Most of us are Dominican, but we have Latinos from all over.”
The man walked up to Maia and told her he could see that she understood Spanish. Then, in a sexually suggestive way, he asked her if her Tye was taking care of all of her needs.
Smiling and glancing over at Tye, she replied, “Él cuida muy bien de mí. Él es mi Papi Chulo.”
Taking the lead from Tye’s late wife, she let the man know that Tye took excellent care of her and in fact, he was Papi Chulo to her, a term only a woman used to being pampered and well-loved would use to refer to her man. She figured if he had any doubt as to whether or not she was loyal to Tye, calling him Papi Chulo would eliminate it. She was right.
“I knew it. I knew it,” the man said smiling and reaching out to shake Tye’s hand. “I happy you find you mija. This time you pass, free. Next time, you bring gift to show appreciation. Si?”
“Si, Gracias. Are there any gifts that you prefer?” he asked the man in an attempt to gain more favor.
“Miguel’s abuela needs plants to mix botellas, uh, medicine? Come.” The man wrapped his arm around Tye’s shoulders, and they stepped away. He said some things discreetly then patted him on the back before moving his men aside.
“Sounds good. Muchos gracias,” Tye replied as the group passed through the small subdivision.
When they were out of ear’s reach of the men Tye reached over and put his arm around Maia.
“So, I’m Papi Chulo, eh?”
“Shut up!” she replied, pushing him away. “Do you want me to introduce your grandes cojones to my knee again?”
“Por favor, no, that’s quite all right.”
Once they were a fair distance away, Caleb asked him, “What did the guy tell you he wanted as a gift?”
“Oh, nudie pictures, liquor, cigars, playing cards, all the things men want when there are no women to entertain them,” Tye joked then he grew somber. “Actually, all he asked for was food, medicine, and ammunition.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Speaking of ammunition, have you trained Junior to use a gun?” Maia asked Tye, nearly tripping over what appeared to be one of the menu boards mounted on the steel poles from a Sonic Drive-In.
“Careful,” he said catching her. “No, I took him to the range a few times, and he’s been hunting since he was little, but I haven’t trained him to hit human targets. Everything happened so fast I didn’t have time to.”
“I still can’t believe y'all didn’t experience all that chaos the first couple of months. It was like living in an alternate universe,” she said.
“So…what was it like for all of you?” Caleb asked as they walked through the ruins of a park, skirting around a partially buried girl’s jacket as though there was something sacred about it.
“At first everybody was helping everybody else. It was the same as any other disaster we’ve had. I remember we finally got to the interstate and there was about a mile and a half before we got to the next turn on the map.”
She noticed the way the rusty, broken equipment glistened from the moisture that clung to the air. Maia continued, “There were people everywhere. I guess it was about five or six hours after it all started and people were still thinking someone was going to show up to help.”
He listened with more intent than before, “Was there? Did anyone show up?”
Looking at him she wanted to lie to avoid the questions and subsequent conversation, but he deserved to know the truth. “Yes, there were firemen and police mostly. They were extricating bodies, and there were a couple of medical people but—”
“But what?” he asked her.
She spoke low so that the kids couldn’t hear. “They were putting the bodies in refrigerated trucks. It looked like Katrina all over again. There was so many of them, and they still hadn’t pulled the ones from the rubble yet. The death toll for East Baton Rouge was already over five thousand that first day. We overheard a police officer tell someone the bodies were being placed in coolers at the beer distribution warehouse or the local coroner’s offices, and they would try to identify them there.”
Tye walked away trying to push the evasive thoughts from his mind. He had gone back to look for his wife after their son died, but she wasn’t in the car. He figured rescuers had removed her. He couldn’t bear the thought of her thrown into a deep dark truck full of people she didn’t know. But it had been five months. It’s not like he could find her and bury her at this point. He played it over and over trying to think of something he could’ve done differently. In the end, he knew he had done all he could but somehow, it wasn’t enough.
She picked up her pace, careful to avoid the toys scattered on the ground, and caught up to him, “Ty, they weren’t letting anyone, even relatives, take the bodies. That’s what the police were doing there. There was nothing you could’ve done.”
It was improbable that anyone could have been mentally prepared enough to go through those first days without suffering from some mental trauma after. From the first day, there was three groups of people; those who needed rescuing, those who were willing to rescue, and those who kept to themselves.
Over the course of two weeks, the people who needed help eventually started victimizing the ones who were helping them. They’d take their boat, weapons, supplies, food, and anything else they could. If they were lucky, they walked away with their lives. The people who kept to themselves just watched it all happen until someone noticed them. By then it was every man for himself: pure anarchy.
She reached over and grabbed Tye’s hand and squeezed it. “Beth always talked about how good you were to her. Papi Chulo isn’t just what she called you. It’s who she believed you were. Don’t ever doubt you loved and cherished her enough. She never did.” He released her hand and put his arm around her and squeezed as they walked. He was grateful to her for encouraging him the way she did, even if it didn’t relieve his pain.
“Dad, this place is creepy,” Elex said as they continued to trek through the abandoned playground. Their pace slowed as they approached the swings. There was no breeze blowing, yet one swing swayed so high it caused them to break out in a cold sweat at the sight of it.
Once they made it through the park and halfway down the street that was once part of a bustling business district, they cut between the Old Western Store and the Chamber of Commerce. Past the parking lot behind the buildings was an eight-foot fence that surrounded several acres of dense woods. Maia led them behind the small warehouse at an electronics store. There, she and her boys had concealed a small gate leading into the woods. She opened the combination lock, and once everyone was through, she locked it back.
This area had remained untouched for many years. Hundreds of acres were owned by one family, and even after they sold it to developers, it went untended. The trees rivaled skyscrapers, and the underbrush was full of thicket, poison oak, and patchy, overgrown grass.
The breeze carried with it the scent of another cold front. They picked up their speed. Contrary to what many people think moving through the woods at a fast pace is no easy task. There’s roots, fallen trees, holes, bugs, uneven ground, and that’s before the end of the world.
After walking for what seemed like hours, they came to what was once a clearing. They navigated through piles of ornate wood, broken wrought iron fencing, and pieces of concrete and marble. A rusty old backhoe was barely visible due to the tangled weeds that crept all around it. In the distance, a faint light re
flected off of the stained glass of a small chapel.
Caleb slowed his stride, "We're not going to that church, are we? Churches are never safe."
Maia smirked. "This church might be safe. Even now people still find cemeteries and funeral homes creepy.
She noticed the others stopped walking. She turned to look at them. "Oh, come on. We’re surrounded by dead people. Why are these people different just because they died before--? Before whatever happened, happened?“
Tye and Caleb looked at each other then shrugged. They kept walking even though now things were a bit more daunting than before.
Once they made it past the shadows cast by the trees, there was glass and metal to reflect the minimal rays of sunlight. Now, exactly where they were became much more apparent.
Caleb's body tensed at the sight of the above-ground tombs that peeked out from the debris of angels, crosses, silk flowers, and soggy stuffed animals. Then there were the crooked, defaced headstones.
Elex tightened his grip on his dad's hand. Caleb looked down at him, and his eyes moved in the direction his son's eyes were fixed on. He stomach felt like a bowling ball had just dropped into it.
"That's not even possible," Tye blurted out.
Maia walked toward the elaborate display. "Yeah, I know. Except that it is."
The oversized headstone had a full body photo etching of a little boy in a police outfit. Contained within the perimeter of the grave was a bed of gravel with a racetrack, a drum, toy walkie-talkies, dump trucks, and building blocks.
Caleb stepped closer and could see that there were even tracks in the gravel where someone had pushed the toy dump truck. He picked up the race car and didn't see any dust on it. "Why does this look like it wasn't touched? At all?"
"Well, I don't really know, but did you read the headstone?" she asked.
It read:
MELANCON
Gabe Michael, our beloved son
Given to us on December 25, 2005
Began his mission with the Lord on April 8, 2012
All Gabe ever wanted was to protect others. We thought he'd join the military or be a policeman when he grew up, but we learned on the day he gained his wings, that his duty would take him from us. May he forever protect all those who seek refuge.
Tye grabbed his forehead. "My god. Is that the boy who was killed in that mass shooting during the little league tournament?"
Maia shook her head yes. "Yeah. He's the pitcher who was hitting the shooter with baseballs then ducking behind the bleachers. He probably saved a lot of people. I don't know if he's related, but Melancon is the name of the funeral home and cemetery,” she said, pointing ahead.
Caleb couldn't escape the thoughts in his mind. "Yeah, well, I don't believe in ghosts," he unintentionally said out loud.
"I don't either," Maia said as she picked up a silk flower from nearby. She cleaned it off then placed it inside the garden gate that lined the child's grave, right beside a bat, glove, and ball bag. "I do believe in a spirit world though."
She handed out the necessary tools and told them, "Start covering our tracks here."
No one said a word. Through their masks they breathed in the smell of sulfur and mold then resumed their walk, covering their tracks as they went. Even as their stomachs turned at the sights before them, they kept their thoughts to themselves.
It wasn't even the caskets that gave them a sick feeling. It was the wood with elaborate features and inlays that were most likely crafted by hand; the marble headstones and memory benches that lay in heaps; and the place was over-strewn with busts on pedestals, praying hands, and knick-knacks. The possibility that a spirit world coincided with their life here escalated the creepy factor.
"This is it," Maia said as she pointed to what looked like a mountainside cave entrance.
She squeezed past the statue of an angel then opened the wrought iron entrance to the mausoleum.
Tye looked up at the sign above the entrance. "This is a family tomb? You want us to go in there?"
Maia turned and gave him that stare. "We could go sleep in the crematory or funeral home if you prefer."
Caleb held the gate open for her. "No. No. Come on. As long as it's safe." He looked at Maia. "I don't believe in ghosts."
She pushed the button on her flashlight, and it made a clicking noise. Everybody jumped. She couldn't help but laugh. "Calm down. It's just my flashlight."
She focused the light on a shrine of sorts. The wood-paneled wall displayed a family crest with the name "Graham." Photos of an elderly couple and a middle-aged woman served as a backdrop to the mantle just below it. Overturned Novena candles, handwritten letters, and small statues were trapped in hardened wax.
Tye reached up to remove the cloth from his mouth and nose. He took a deep breath. The air inside was thick and musty, but at least it was breathable.
"Is this Lance's family?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied as she made her way around the stacked crypts.
Sadie ran her finger across the engraved names on the wall. "Are people in here?" she asked.
Her dad grabbed her hand. "No, sweetheart. Not this one. See how there's a date that they were born but no date when they died? That's because they haven't died yet. Or, at least they hadn’t before all this happened anyway."
"But they might be in other ones? The ones that do have another date?" She asked.
Tye didn't reply. He took her by the hand and held on to her tight. He gave her a look that was the equivalent of an apology. They followed Maia further in.
Tye observed every inch of the place as Maia's light reflected the surfaces. He collided with a stray spider web that must have been just over her head. He swept it away.
Turning the corner, the sound of dead, dry flowers crushing underneath broke the silence. Maia stopped and took several near dead wildflowers from her backpack and placed them on the floor. When she was done, she stood still for a moment. Tye paused, breathing in deep when he saw where the light was shining.
Deeply etched in the marble was the name "Lance Randolph Graham" followed by the words, "Beloved son, husband, father, and friend." There was a birth date but, no date of death.
He couldn't help but put his hand over the word "friend." Then he stood proud and tall and saluted him.
Maia did the same. "This is why I feel safe here," she said. Then she shined the light on the next block of marble revealing her own name. "Besides, if I die here, I figure I'm where I'm supposed to be."
At the end of the hallway was a ladder. Maia took her bag off and handed it to Caleb. She pushed it against the wall a few times to make sure it was secure.
"When I get to the top the next person can come up. Just make sure you toss me all of your bags."
Maia climbed to the top of the center of the mausoleum. She caught all of the bags as they were thrown to her and the crew climbed up one by one. Once everyone was on top, she instructed Caleb and Tye to help her remove the heavy piece of metal used to close up the entrance.
Tye and Caleb each grabbed a handle, picked it up, then carefully set it aside. Maia had asked Junior to pull up the ladder which they would then use to go down into the center of the building.
"Before we go in we have to get the door flipped over so that the handles are on the inside."
Once the ladder was moved, and Maia and the kids made their way in, Caleb and Tye maneuvered the metal hatch until it was secure in the frame, handles inside.
Maia handed them a couple of 2x4s. "Put these through the handles. It's just in case--"
Chapter Sixteen
They settled in and passed out some MREs. It was all they had available to them tonight. It would have to do.
"What is this area here for?" Tye wondered out loud.
"Maintenance?" Maia guessed. "I've wondered the same thing. I don't know what else it could be for."
Curious, but at the same time willing to do anything to take his mind off of his morbid surroundings, Caleb asked her, “How d
id you end up at the crazy house?”
“You mean the mental care facility?” She took a deep breath and continued, “About thirty minutes after the flooding started, Lance’s boss called him and told him it was ‘time’ and he needed to do whatever he had to do to get himself and us there. He said this was the kind of emergency they’d talked about, and everything that we might need was there. Lance had this ‘go kit’ the guy gave him. There was a map inside with the route mapped out for different scenarios. Even after Lance died, we kept going because he told us it was the only place he was sure we’d be safe…”
“Really?” Caleb replied. “What was the deal with this place?”
“I have lots of questions too. The whole situation was weird from the beginning.” She continued, “As soon as Lance told the Corps he was retiring, a couple of his superiors suggested he apply there. So, he did. It was a lengthy ordeal but because he came so highly recommended they paid him to go through the hiring process. They even interviewed the boys and me. It was strange.”
“He told me about that. He thought the whole thing was a cover-up for something else,” Tye said, making a face after he took a bite of what was supposed to be some form of spaghetti.
“Yeah, he took the job because the pay and the benefits were excellent. But, once he got in there, he would overhear things about making it secure enough so that no one could get in and how the owner wanted to put a bathroom in each room then, full beds for couples in some of them. Mental facilities are supposed to keep people in yet they were focused on keeping them out and why would they need full beds and bathrooms in each room? And we won’t talk about the food with a thirty-year shelf life.”
“Yeah, I was confused about the keeping people out part when you said it. Unless this is that new math, something doesn't add up.” Caleb formulated his thoughts and continued, “If his boss called and told him it was time and this place seemed like it was built for something like this then why was there no one there when you got there? Or was there?”
Amitola: The Making of a Tribe Page 14