by Gregory Kay
The song went off, and a commercial came on: some lady talking about how important it was to have a career. Career – that was a magic word these days, it seemed like. No one could be happy or fulfilled without one, especially a woman.
That must make me weird.
Of course, she reckoned she already had a career: that of a wife and mother.
Domestic engineer.
Whatever you called it, it was a lifelong commitment, and she took as much pride in her work as any CEO. Her success showed in her spotless home, in the way her husband loved her, and in the kind of man her son had grown up to be.
She paused a moment at those words: grown up. Intellectually, Kathy knew that Jake was almost eighteen, soon to be a man in the eyes of the law, but it didn’t seem possible. It seemed like only a few months ago, he had been crawling on the floor in diapers, and no more than a week or two past that she had put a skinny blond-haired boy on the school bus for the first time. Now, all of a sudden, he was on the verge of graduation, would be going to work full time, and, before too long, he’d find someone of his own, and then she’d go from mother to grandma...
In one way it makes me happy, but it sure is a kick right in the ego! I feel old all of a sudden!
A part of her recognized the hourly news report coming up, and she gladly shifted her attention away from her musings and back to the radio.
“We have a weather bulletin, and we’re now going to our meteorologist, Sally Perkins, at our weather desk. Sally, what’s the latest on that Midwest storm system we’ve all been watching?”
“Frank!” Kathy yelled, but he was already there, walking in while still drying his hands.
“Don’t yell,” he said with a grin, “I’m right here. I was in the bathroom, and I came in here where I could hear it better.”
“Well, Dick,” the meteorologist was saying, “that winter storm system we’ve been monitoring has picked up speed and is definitely on the move. It’s increased in intensity, carrying with it a mixture of rain and snow that will be heavy in spots. Combined with temperatures falling into the twenties and upper teens, severe icing and even localized blizzard conditions are predicted, especially in the higher elevations. The leading edge of the storm is stretched across eastern Ohio and Kentucky, and expected to cross the Ohio River and reach central Pennsylvania and the mountainous areas of West Virginia by late afternoon. The West Virginia State Police are already issuing travel advisories in preparation; if you don't have to go out, they ask that you please stay home.”
“Oh my God!” Kathy said, raising her fingertips to her mouth, an old habit she only fell back on when she was really scared, “The boys...”
Frank gently caught her hand and pulled it down, but didn’t let go.
“Don’t bite your nails. The boys will be just fine.”
“But...didn’t you hear what they said?”
“Yes, honey; I was standing right here.” He was smiling, trying to make light of the situation in order to calm her fears. “Look, Jake knows how to read the clouds, and if he sees the storm coming, he’s got enough sense to head for the house. I don’t know about those other two, but I trust Jake to do the smart thing. If not, well, they’ve been caught in bad weather before. Remember when they got snowed in for two days while they were trout fishing on Cranberry River last May? To them it was just a big adventure: one they’re still bragging about. They’re smart, and Jake knows how to survive. They’ll do alright.”
Kathy wasn’t convinced of that at all, and, for the first time in a long time, she shouted at her husband.
“How can you be so calm about all of this? Aren’t you even the least bit worried about our son?”
Frank wasn’t the type to show his feelings much, but she saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes this time. Still, he didn’t take them off of hers.
“Of course I’m worried; I worry about him every minute he’s out of my sight. If you want the honest truth, I spend half my life being scared shitless something will happen to him. The thing is, though, he’s not a little boy anymore; he’s a man now.” Letting go of her hands, he turned away and walked to the window, staring out at the cool November day and the plain, empty sky that showed no warning of what they'd just been assured was coming. Without looking back, he said, “I’ll tell you what I really worry about. He'll start to work over at the mine this spring, just as soon as he graduates – with his grades and vocational training, he's a shoo-in – and his childhood will be over. I worry that he’ll fall into a rut, just the same thing day in and day out. I don’t want him to just be alive without having really lived. Do you understand what I mean?”
Kathy could only shake her head as her tears began to flow.
“No, I don’t. I know it must be one of those...man things, but I can’t help but worry! I’ve just got this awful feeling that something’s not right! If something were to happen to Jake...”
“Jake will be fine,” he repeated, and she suddenly wondered if he'd said that to reassure her or himself. With a sigh, he turned again to face his wife once more, and took in her shattered look. It proved too much for him. “Tell you what, though; try to call him on his cell phone. You probably won't be able to reach him if he's in a holler somewhere, but try. If not, and if it’ll make you feel any better, if it starts looking like it’s going to get too bad before they get back, I’ll go look for them myself. Fair enough?”
Coming into his arms, she pressed her face against his chest.
“Thank you, Frank.”
Kissing the top of her head, he told her she was welcome.
Chapter 8
There was nothing little about Little Back Mountain. Not quite the biggest mountain in the County, it was still damned close to it. The long, steeply sloped projection of thickly forested rock reached for the sky like the burial mound of some long-forgotten giant fallen to earth.
The boys were two miles from the truck, making their way through the wooded valley at the foot of the mountain’s eastern side. The trees weren’t old growth; few of the oaks, maples, hemlocks, and wild magnolias looked to be much over the half-century mark, and their relative youth had allowed the undergrowth to firmly establish itself. Rhododendron and mountain laurel were interwoven into a thick maze, all tied together by snaking tendrils of tough, thorny woodbine. Slowly and carefully, they made their way through the labyrinth, with Jake in the lead, Joe Bob in the Middle, and Scott bringing up the rear. Generations of deer had made the trail they used to work their way through, and they were expecting to jump one any minute, but so far, through all the hours they’d been there, they’d seen nothing bigger than a squirrel.
Jake’s normally smooth brow was pulled into a frown; he couldn’t seem to concentrate. Looking for deer or for sign was competing with the voice he kept hearing in his head: her voice, the one from his dreams.
Come on, Jake! Not much farther now. I’m waiting for you.
He tried to pass it off as an echo from the night before, but despite all logic, he couldn’t quite convince himself of that, or that it was coming from inside instead of outside; he could almost swear she was right beside him, whispering to him while her hot, moist breath swirled around his ear. It seemed so real that, despite the cold air, the walking, and his attempted fixation on the task at hand, he could feel the stirring in the crotch of his pants as his manhood responded to the call.
Jake...I’m waiting for you.
Casually, without appearing to do so, he glanced back to see Joe Bob and Scott both looking in the direction of Little Back’s slopes, apparently scanning them for deer.
He shook his head, wondering if he was losing his mind, and the voice still crooned, Jake...Jake...
Joe Bob didn’t believe in much he couldn’t see, but he wasn’t so sure about what he could hear. Oh, he supposed there was most likely a God out there somewhere in space, way out past the stars maybe, but if that's whose voice Joe Bob kept hearing, considering its gender and what it was saying, he reckoned a lot of ch
urch people needed to do some real serious rethinking about their religion.
You and me are gonna to have a time, Joe Bob MacKenzie. I’m gonna show you some things...
Her voice was deep and sultry, and just the sound of it left him with a raging hard-on that rubbed against the inside of his jeans, straining against the cloth and making him walk slightly stiff-legged. He wondered if he was going crazy.
If this is what crazy is like, it ain’t so bad!
Come on, Scotty. I want to hold you; I want to love you!
As they stepped into a rare clearing, Scott blinked and swallowed hard, instinctively looking back over his shoulder to make sure Becky wasn’t around, not that she’d be able to hear it, of course, but no doubt she’d notice the guilty look on his face and pounce on him like a cat on a mouse, and make him tell her...
No! I’d never tell her this! This is mine!
With a start, he realized that his unlikely determination wasn’t brought on by his usual fear of incurring his fiancée’s displeasure, but rather from his own jealous refusal to share this special fantasy, especially with someone who would malign it. Just the thought of that made him so angry he actually didn’t know what he’d do if someone – anyone, even Becky – was to make fun of her.
Hurry, Scotty. Please hurry...
Distracted by the pleading voice, Scott stumbled over an exposed root and paused, just listening to her words and when Joe Bob didn’t hear him moving, he looked back to see what was wrong.
“What’s up?”
Embarrassed, Scott shook his head.
“Nothing, I just...” neither wanting nor able to make himself tell what was really going on, he said the first thing that popped into his head. “Look, I’m getting a little hungry. What do you say we stop for lunch?”
His friend grinned before calling out, “Hey Jake! Hold up for a minute. Scott’s having trouble keeping up. He’s getting weak; it’s probably blood-loss since Becky went and chewed his ass off this morning.”
Scott heard Jake laugh, that reminded him of just how much trouble he was currently in with her.
“It ain’t funny, Joe Bob!”
“I think it’s hilarious! Don’t you, Jake?”
“It would be if it wasn’t so damned pathetic,” Jake told him as he leaned his rifle against a tree and sat down on a fallen log beside it. The rotten wood was squishy and gave slightly beneath him, cushioning him and sending a trickle of disintegrating bark and green moss to the ground.
Joe Bob took the other end of the log, leaving a comfortable space for Scott in between them.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, pimento spread and convenience store deli subs, potato and corn chips, washed down with sodas in plastic, twenty-ounce bottles.
We’ve done stuff like this since we were kids, Jake thought, and found the idea depressing as hell when he realized that this was probably the last time it was ever likely to happen. If asked, he would have insisted that, oh hell yeah, we’ll get together and deer hunt every fall, and fish every summer, and drink beer and get into fights at the homecoming games, but he knew the actual likelihood of that was comparable to the devil having to make a quick stop by the Wolf Run Walmart for some ice skates. Jobs and marriage and travel and eventually death would come between them; that was the way of things.
Damned, that sucks!
Glancing at his friends, he mentally shook his head, wondering if they were thinking of the same thing. They might be, even though they wouldn’t articulate it anymore than he would. They had been best friends since first grade. They were so close, folks had taken to calling them The Three Musketeers – well, he knew a few people who referred to them as The Three Stooges – but either way, people remarked on it when they saw one without the others. All of them had depended on each other since they could remember, but that wouldn’t last much longer.
Maybe that’s what growing up is all about, not having to depend on anybody but yourself. Shit, we’ve all three raced after it, wanting to be adults just as fast as we could, but I didn’t know it was this scary, or could hurt so damned much.
Shrugging his shoulders as if the physical action could shake him out of his funk, he looked up at the sky through the bare branches surrounding the clearing. There was no sign of the storm that was supposed to be coming; so far, everything was bright and clear. In fact, it was up into the mid-forties and right now it felt even warmer than that, since they had stopped in a little clearing and he could feel the sun shining down on the exposed skin of his face and hands. The day was beautiful, he realized, and he might as well enjoy it.
“This sure is a pretty place.”
“Huh!” Scott snorted, still a little put out over their previous ragging, “It would be prettier if it had some deer in it. I ain’t seen nothing all day.”
“It's all down to luck,” Joe Bob put in. “If you want to be sure of getting some meat, you gotta go to the grocery store.”
“I know, but I’d still like to have something to show for it. I’d hate to have made Becky mad at me for nothing.”
Joe Bob had just taken a bite of his sub, and promptly spit a shotgun pattern of crumbs as he slammed his fist down on his knee and shouted in anger.
“Damn it, why can’t you shut the hell up about Becky for five freaking minutes? It’s bad enough that you have to put up with her, without inflicting her on the rest of us. Shit, you ought to be glad you’re away from her for awhile!”
Scott looked to Jake for support, only to see his agreement with Joe Bob shining plainly in his green eyes. Not knowing what else to do, Scott shook his head.
“You just don’t understand.”
“I understand,” Jake firmly pointed out. “I used to date her, remember?”
“So did I,” Joe Bob broke in around another mouthful of sandwich, a mischievous twinkle shining in his eye, “and ain't nobody needs that aggravation. Not only did she never shut up, but she wasn’t worth a shit in bed either; she just laid there like a stump.”
In an instant, Scott was on his feet, his fists clenched, his sandwich and soda spilling unheeded onto the leaves by his boots.
“You take that back!”
Joe Bob looked at him with studied innocence and spread his hands, palm-up.
“Take what back? She really ain’t worth a shit in bed.”
Without warning, Scott punched him in the face, knocking him backwards off the log and sending his lunch flying, and then threw himself on top of him...or tried to.
When Joe Bob hit the ground on his back, he was already bringing his left knee up. It slammed into Scott’s lower belly, just missed his crotch where it had been aimed, and knocked him to the side.
By the time the swearing Jake set his drink and sandwich down out of harm's way, and put his chips aside, the two were lying on their sides facing one another like a pair of battling Tom cats, with fists, knees and boots flying. Before he could get to them, Joe Bob managed to roll on top and landed three hard punches – right, left, right – on his friend's face.
Jake got a firm grip on Joe Bob’s coat collar with both hands, set his feet, and yanked. Pulling him off Scott, he dragged him back a couple of yards and dropped him on his back. By that time, Scott was already lunging to his feet, and would have jumped on top of his opponent again if Jake hadn’t gotten between them and tripped him, slamming a hunting boot hard across his shins as he charged forward, the momentum of his body making him fall face-down in the leaves. He tried to push himself up, but Jake jumped astraddle of his back and sat down on him.
“That’s enough!”
When Scott continued struggling, Jake grabbed him by both shoulders and shook him hard.
“Damn it, I said that’s enough!”
Joe Bob sat up and dragged the back of his right hand across his swollen lips. Looking down at it and seeing blood, his anger flared and he started to his feet.
“You little son of a bitch! ”
“You quit too!” Jake snapped from his positio
n on top of Scott, letting go with his right hand and pointing a warning finger like a pistol. “It’s over!”
As Joe Bob settled back, rubbing his mouth and grumbling under his breath, Jake shouted down at the back of Scott’s head.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? You knew Joe Bob screwed Becky! As a matter of fact, you even congratulated him on doing it when he told us about it! Her virginity didn’t just magically grow back just for you, you know!”
“That was before I was with her!” Scott shouted back, spitting away a dry oak leaf that had adhered to his bloody mouth. “And anyway, I don’t like having my face rubbed in it!”
“He wasn’t rubbing your face in it, Scott! He was being your friend, and trying to make you see what she is!”
Scott started struggling again, only to get another hard shake that made him stop his actions, if not his words.
“Don’t you say it! Just because she slept with one guy doesn’t make her a whore!”
Jake paused, pursing his lips in thought before making his admission, and saying the thing that had been eating away at his conscience, the very thing he never intended to admit, but the thing his friend needed to hear, no matter how much it hurt.
“She didn’t just sleep with one guy, Scott,” he said quietly, before adding, “Sorry, man,” and patting his friend on the shoulder as he rose to his feet and stepped away. Walking back to the log, he resumed his seat as both Scott and Joe Bob stared at him, wide eyed.
“I didn’t know you did it with her too!” Joe Bob exclaimed in a surprised, slightly congratulatory tone while he stood up and brushed the leaves from the seat of his pants. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because it wasn’t any of your damned business. Anyway, it wasn’t something I was particularly proud of.”
Scott had rolled over into a sitting position, his shoulders slumped, looking dejected.
“Well...you were dating her for a while too, so I guess...”