Life at the End of the Road

by Rey S Morfin

  With that, he rushed for the door, turning only momentarily at the threshold to announce, ‘I’ll be right back!’

  Anna and I shared a look.

  ‘Do you think this is the best idea, Rey?’ she asked.

  ‘I was hoping you’d stop me if it wasn’t,’ I replied. ‘Do you have a better plan? A better way of weaving through all the lies people are telling?’

  She said nothing, but shook her head.

  ‘Well, then. We’ll give it a go. What harm can it do?’

  A few moments later, Stephen returned to the room, armed now with a clear bag filled with a substance I recognised to be the Root.

  ‘Here we go, Rey,’ Stephen said, pulling a small root from the bag. ‘If you’re going to do this correctly, we’re going to need to go through the process beforehand.’

  ‘Ok,’ I offered.

  ‘To warn you- the process sounds oddly straightforward, but don’t treat this lightly. What you’ll need to do, Rey, is to keep a straight head. The Root can be bent to your will, if you’re clear about what that it. However - and I know I don’t need to tell you this, Rey - keeping your mind straight whilst under the influence of the Root isn’t as easy as it sounds. But if you really want to know the truth, Rey, you’re going to have to give it your all.’

  I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Sure, ok. I can do this.’

  ‘Good.’

  Stephen finished preparing the Root for my consumption, and handed it to me.

  ‘I’m very excited for this, Rey, for you to see the truth,’ Stephen said. ‘It’s going to change everything for you, you’ll see.’

  ‘Wait,’ Anna interrupted, ‘What do you mean by that, exactly?’

  I lit the Root before wasting any more time. It couldn’t wait any longer.

  ‘He’ll see soon enough, Anna,’ Stephen said with a sly grin.

  The Root began to take ahold of me once again, creeping into the crevices of my mind - from where it had only just started to fade.

  Anna turned to me. ‘Rey, wait, I’m not sure about this…’

  ‘It’s ok, Anna, it’s…’ I mumbled, trailing off mid-sentence.

  ‘It’s inside him now, Anna, it’s too late. Only thing left for him to do now is to buckle up and focus on Laura.’

  16

  Laura

  I left home angry, Rey’s irritable tone still ringing around my head. It was the perfect time to get away for a while, but far from the perfect reason to. Max! He was gone. My poor boy. My poor, lovely, best friend in all the world. I’d never really lost anyone before, so his death hit me hard - it didn’t matter that he was just an animal, he was family. It was this misery which meant that I wasn’t taking any of Rey’s shit on that day.

  He’d been changing for a while now. I knew he was just going through some stuff, but it was hard to be patient with someone who was acting like that. I hoped he was going to come back to me, and we could be happy like we used to be. Even though we barely had a penny between us, we were happy - not that money is everything!

  I hadn’t been back home for a while. “Home”? Was it home? Wasn’t the city home now? I hadn’t been back to Redbury for a while, then. It had been home once, but nowadays I didn’t think about it very often. I hoped Mum was ok. She was like me, a bit prone to falling apart at the slightly provocation. And the death of a family member was more than enough to precipitate this.

  There was Dad, too, of course. I probably wouldn’t see him this time. This trip was about Max, who was firmly Mum’s dog. There was nobody else left for me in Redbury, really. The only other person I still kept in touch with from my childhood was Anna, who had moved to the city with me. God bless her, I don’t think I’d have managed without her here - it had been such a change from what I was used to.

  I took the train up to Redbury. It was easier than driving, especially considering the time of week. It would only take one accident on the motorway and suddenly a three hour journey could become an eight hour journey. This was not a risk I wanted to take, not this particular time. Not any time, really!

  I lugged my heavy suitcase (yes, I do need to pack all of this, Rey, you wouldn’t understand, you’re not a woman, we have different requirements) off the train at Highford, and scoured the station car park (capacity: ten cars) for Mum. Sure enough, in front of me was a familiar sight: an old red Fiat Punto. I remembered Mum buying this car when I was in my early teens, and it was still the only vehicle she owned. Good for her, I always thought, she knows what she likes! I opened the boot, clumsily chucked my suitcase in, and then climbed in on the passenger side.

  Mum hugged me. ‘How are you, dear?’

  ‘Calling people “dear” now? Come on, Mum, you’re not that old!’

  Mum smirked and started the engine, driving us the short distance to Redbury, the next town over. Growing up, that had been the only way that I’d heard Redbury described - as the “next town over”. It was always Highford that people knew, but nobody had heard of Redbury, not even people who grew up in the county, so it was always “near Highford, but the next town over”. I was sure that one day Redbury would be known in its own right, and not just because it’s close to a slightly-larger town with a railway station.

  I didn’t bother to unpack my suitcase, as I knew, deep down, that I really only needed about a quarter of the contents, unless there was an emergency. I wasn’t going to admit this to myself, though, as it would have meant that Rey was right. He wasn’t allowed to be right, not at the moment.

  Mum and I got into a fight in record time. It wasn’t uncommon that we would bicker about something or another. It was possible that it was due to us being fairly similar people. That’s what Rey always said, anyway, but again: he wasn’t allowed to be right. This time, however, with emotions running high due to our loss, the bickering escalated into a rather bad argument. It culminated with Mum shaking her head, going quiet, and going upstairs, which was when I knew things had gotten bad between us. Still, I was angry, and I announced loudly from the bottom of the stairs that I was going to get a drink.

  I arrived at the Black Horse expecting to see my lovely old pal Greg, who owned the pub, but was surprised to see that he was no longer running the show. Redbury had traded their old, grey-haired, slightly-overweight, white, male barkeep for a fifty-something, bald, stout man with pale skin.

  Greg v2.0 smiled at me as I entered the otherwise-empty pub. It was the countryside, and there wasn’t a huge amount to do, but that didn’t mean that the Black Horse was going to be particularly rammed at this time on a Tuesday morning.

  ‘Hi there!’ I announced myself.

  ‘Hi, missy, how are you doing today?’

  ‘I’m alright, I’m alright, thank you for asking. And yourself?’

  Greg v2.0 continued to beam warmly.

  ‘I’m good, thanks. I haven’t seen you in here before, are you from these parts?’

  ‘Yeah, originally. Live away from here now, but just visiting my mum.’

  ‘And visiting the pub, I see!’

  ‘The Black Horse the cultural capital of Worcestershire, I wouldn’t miss it. Is Greg still around?’

  The new barkeep’s smile faltered for a moment. ‘I’m afraid not, he’s not around here any more. I’m the new owner. John.’

  John stuck out his hand to shake mine. I returned the handshake, which was almost uncomfortably gentle, as though John was worried about breaking my bones.

  ‘Laura.’

  With nobody else to attend to, John was happy to continue talking to me as I drank an unexpected number of beers, and I appreciated the company while I was doing so. It was only once I accidentally knocked over an almost-full pint that I decided that it was time to call it quits - even if John was very nice about clearing the mess up. I paid, gathered my things, and made for the door.

  It was when I left the pub that I ran into Sam.

  I say “ran into”. Really, I don’t mean that. Sam exited the post office over the road, locking up for the
day, and didn’t even notice me. Thinking that it was rude that my notoriously-frisky ex-boyfriend hadn’t even noticed me, I called out to him.

  ‘Sam! Hey, Sam!’

  He jumped, being caught off guard by the shrill voice screaming his name. I waved at him from over the road. When he did recognise me, he smiled and ambled over.

  ‘I was hoping to see you!’ I told him. I wasn’t quite sure if that was true, but the words had come out of my mouth, so perhaps, at least on some subconscious level, it was.

  We began to catch up, ambling slowly and aimlessly around town. It didn’t sound like he had changed very much. His haircut had gotten somehow even messier, and he had found a job, but those were the only two major differences I could discern. When it came to me, I told Sam about moving to London, getting a new job there, renting. I even, after a while, told him about Rey, although due to our regular fighting, I left out the part where we were engaged - if Rey and I didn’t make it, I wanted to spare myself as much embarrassment as possible!

  ‘There’s something else…,’ Sam added.

  ‘Ooh, continue, please!’

  ‘You remember… all those weird things that were happening when we were growing up? Or, at least, things that we thought were happening?’

  ‘Like what?’ I asked. ‘You don’t mean like… what we saw that time, at the campsite?’

  Sam nodded, looking oddly serious for perhaps the first time in the many years that I had known him. ‘I do, yeah.’

  ‘Right… what about them?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, I think I’m starting to piece some of it together.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Sam stumbled on his words. ‘It’s really… rather hard to explain.’

  ‘Can you show me?’

  He smiled. ‘I was hoping to.’

  Sam took me to church - or, more specifically, to the outskirts of the churchyard, where a number of teenagers were hanging around.

  ‘Just like we used to do, huh?’ Sam said to me, under his breath.

  He turned to face the youths, and, as per a seemingly-prearranged deal, he traded cash for (presumably) an illicit substance. I looked around for onlookers, seeing only Art, the Vicar, watching us from the church porch. I could sense the disapproval from where I was standing. Get back to work, Art, haven’t you got some prayers to do? I turned back to my ex-boyfriend to find him stuffing something into his pockets.

  ‘Oh, we gonna get high, are we, Sam?’

  He smiled faintly. ‘It’s not quite that simple, but… yes.’ And then, with a grin, he added, ‘Come on, let’s go back to our campsite.’

  And so we did. We walked one of our usual routes, taking the entrance to the woods by the church, taking the turn down south, and then venturing off the path at the tree which still beared our marking - one that must have been a complete mystery to anyone else that passed it.

  ‘So what is it, Sam? Weed?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘I told you it wasn’t that simple, Lor.’

  Out of Sam’s pocket came a bag filled with small brown plant roots.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I… Short answer is, I don’t know. The kids we got it from, they just call it “the root”’.

  ‘And what are we gonna do? Snort it?’

  ‘Smoke it.’ Sam whipped out his lighter with a flourish that suggested he still hadn’t given up that smoking habit that I remembered him gaining all those years ago.

  Sam expertly crafted the Root-filled blunt, and wasted no time in lighting it. When he inhaled, I could immediately see the tightness in his shoulders give way and the intense stare in his eyes soften. I wanted it.

  Sam could see me eyeing it up, and graciously passed it to me. There was an almost instantaneous reaction to this substance, a calming delirium to it. I relaxed, truly relaxed, for the first time in countless months. In an old, deteriorating campsite, sitting on an uncomfortable fallen log, I was in nirvana.

  He swept in for the kiss at that moment, and I wasn’t in a state to push him away. Maybe this had been Sam’s plan all along - that there was nothing new he had to show me but himself (and that certainly wasn’t new to me!). As he kissed me, I thought of Rey, and I felt guilty, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t quite know why I didn’t stop, and I felt like I wasn’t truly in full control of my body. I remembered fighting with Rey before I left home, telling him that-

  And then, suddenly, everything changed. It was dark. Nighttime. Rey was here at this campsite. The trees rocked back and forth as though a powerful - yet silent - storm was raging overhead, bending the branches to breaking point. He screamed, his mouth twisted in torment, tears streaking from his eyes. Shrieking.

  And it was gone. I’d only seen it for perhaps a fraction of a second, but it had felt so real. I pulled away from Sam and staggered towards the stream.

  Sam called to me. ‘Do you see it? Do you see something?’ His voice sounded so distant, as though he was calling across a wide open plain.

  And then I was in my Dad’s house. Watching him approach a young woman. She looked familiar at first, and then I recognised her - Anna. It wasn’t Anna as I currently knew her, but Anna as I knew her when we’d last both been in this town. And my father, he was younger too, and he was stroking Anna’s face, and he was-

  Sam was laughing. ‘You see it, you see it!’

  ‘See what? What am I seeing?’

  ‘It, Lor, it!’

  ‘What is “it”?’ I screamed back at him.

  And then I was in the old tent, laying next to Sam.

  And then I was walking through town.

  And then I was opening the door to my mother’s house.

  And then I was walking past Mum, ignoring her questions.

  And then laying on the bed in my old room, drenched in sweat, simultaneously feverish and shivering with cold.

  And then I woke up. My body felt drained, put through some immense hardship. I remembered all that I’d seen: of Rey, of my father. I needed to see more! I need to know more.

  My mother, having heard me stirring, entered the room, and the argument continued.

  ‘What was that last night, Laura? What’s gotten into you?’ she shouted, eyes wide.

  ‘I… I don’t know, Mum. I’m sorry, I don’t know.’

  ‘I think I…,’ she trailed off.

  ‘Do you know what this was, Mum?’

  My mother shook her head, but I knew better.

  ‘You do know, don’t you? What is it?’

  She continued to shake her head, and left the room in a hurry.

  ‘I’m going to find out, Mum, even if you don’t tell me!’ I called out after her.

  I started to remember. I remembered men staggering around town, eyes glazed over, as if in some sort of trance. I remembered thinking that they were just drunk, of course - the Black Horse had been so popular! But, no, maybe that wasn’t it. I remembered Olive, too, appearing at our door, in a similar state, and Mum trying to hide her from me. Maybe to shield me. But to shield me from what?!

  I needed more. That was the only way. I’d experienced something, and I needed to have more! I skipped the shower, made myself only barely-presentable (and even then, only if you had very low standards), and returned to the post office. I rapped on its as-yet-unopened door, hoping that Sam would be in there.

  ‘Sam! It’s me! Open up, will you?’

  Eventually, he did as commanded. ‘Lor? What’s up? You ok?’

  ‘What was that, last night?’ I started, and then, before waiting for an answer, ‘Can I get more?’

  ‘Slow down, Laura.’ My whole name? He must be serious. ‘You got to slow down! I think… bad things can happen if you ramp up too quickly.’

  ‘Don’t be a fucking spoilsport, Sam,’ I told him, immediately regretting my words. It was enough to annoy him, and he stopped entertaining my requests.

  ‘I’m not a spoilsport, Laura. Can you, actually… can you leave? I got to finish opening up.’

 
It being clear that I wasn’t going to get anything more out of him, I did as I was told… and went straight to the churchyard to find Sam’s suppliers.

  As I approached, one of them spotted me. ‘Oh hey, it’s the lady from yesterday,’ he announced to his friends. I didn’t yet think I was of the age to be described as a “lady”, but I didn’t attempt to question it.

  I waved. ‘Yes! It’s me! How’s it going?’

  ‘It’s good, it’s good. Better now.’ He smiled at me - that same smile men had been smiling at me since I was a teenager. ‘Come to keep us company for a bit?’

  ‘I’m after more of the stuff you gave Sam yesterday. I can pay.’

  ‘The root, you mean? You want more already? You had quite a bit just yesterday.’

  One of his friends tutted him, ‘Hey, don’t be such a pussy, man.’

  ‘Fuck off, Mike,’ he retorted, insincerely, before turning back to me. ‘I would, lady, honestly I would, especially if you’re paying. But we’re running a bit low, alright? Can’t be giving it all away.’

  ‘Well, can you tell me who you get it from?’ I asked.

  He snorted. ‘It’s not a who, it’s a where. Up in the woods. There’s a patch, if you know where you’re looking.’

  ‘It grows? Around here? Can you take me there? To the patch? I’ll pay!’

  ‘Lady, you’d pay for anything, wouldn’t you?’ he said, then paused. ‘Look, even if I did, it wouldn’t help. They’ve closed it off.’

  His friend piped up again, ‘See, I told you they’d notice if we took too much.’

  ‘Oh, fuck off, man.’

  I continued my line of enquiry, ‘Who? Who noticed? Who closed it off?’

  ‘Reckon it’s that old guy, in the mansion,’ he said, then turned to his friends. ‘What was his name?’

  They shrugged.

  ‘Anyway, yeah, probably him. He owns all the land around here. Rich guys just doing what they do. You gonna speak to him? If you do, could you ask if we could buy it off of him? Could sell it for him, too, if he likes.’