by Jan Tilley
His mama was still alive then. She minded the store while Malachi attempted to put the remaining pieces of his life back together. Three years later, his mama got sick and died that same year. Roberta brought him food and helped him through those dark times as well. Some days, when sadness grabbed hold of his soul, Malachi couldn’t even get out of bed. Roberta jumped in and ran the store for him. She acted tough as nails on the surface, but Malachi knew the real Roberta. She had been a good friend to him when it felt like the rest of the world had abandoned him.
Everyone else left him alone to try and make sense of his life. All he could see was that his existence had absolutely no purpose anymore. Those were the dark days, where evil lurks just waiting for the chance to comfort you. There were days when the darkness seemed to be his only friend. It understood the silence and the twisted thoughts going through his mind. It encouraged suffering.
Malachi was no stranger to suffering. With time, he was able to hide it well, but occasionally the pain would come home for a visit. When that happened, he would try to focus on the good, but sometimes the bad overwhelmed him. Working hard to keep the memories at bay, he mundanely tended to the boring routine which had become his daily life.
Malachi rarely left the mill. It had been a while since he’d stocked the pantry and it cried out for supplies. He decided to wander over to Canal Fulton rather than Doylestown this time. Maybe he could stop by and check on Travis while he was there. But, how could he do that? He couldn’t just show up on the kid’s doorstep. What if his mom answered the door? How would he possibly explain his visit? Everything had gotten so complicated.
Rosie purred as they made the twenty-minute haul into town. Malachi drove past Travis’s apartment to see if just by chance he might be outside. Parking his truck, he anxiously craned his neck searching for a sign of the teenager, but he was nowhere to be found.
Feeling defeated and not sure what else he could do, Malachi headed to the grocery store in town to pick up a few items. It was early and there were very few customers. Most folks like to sleep in on Saturday mornings. Malachi had the place pretty much to himself.
As he walked the aisles, he talked to himself under his breath. “What do you think you’re going to do, old man?” He shook his head and reprimanded himself, “Mind your own business, and leave the kid alone.” He paid the cashier and gathered his goods.
Slowly making his way to Rosie, he loaded the bags into the damp truck bed where he noticed a dark spot on the floor. Reaching over as far as he could, he wiped it with the handkerchief from his back pocket. His face ran pale as a ghost when he looked at the rag. It was blood. As his mind and heart began to race, adrenaline surged deep inside him. Folding up the hankie, he coyly looked around to see if anyone was watching. There was no one else around. Surely, it must be Junior’s blood. He consolidated two bags of groceries into one and used the empty bag to stash the hankie. Tying it tightly into a knot, he tried to act nonchalant.
He placed the bag on the floorboard of the front seat, buckled himself in and started Rosie up for the solitary drive home. He anxiously looked around, trying not to appear suspicious. The parking lot was fairly deserted. He breathed a sigh of relief as he said to himself, “How the hell did I miss that? Careless, Malachi. Very careless.”
His attention was drawn to a car across the lot. It was parked at an odd angle, obscurely on its own, away from the building. Two people emerged from the passenger side in a cloud of smoke. They leaned into the car, talking to the driver and began to laugh as they looked around to see if anyone was watching. Malachi looked down, like he was paying no attention to them. But, he was. He tried to figure out if the kids were getting an early start or if it was an overflow party from the previous night. He intently scrutinized their every move because he recognized one of the teenagers. It was Travis.
What was he doing with a crowd like this? From the looks of it, these kids were up to no good. It took everything in Malachi’s power not to run over to Travis and snatch him away from the hoodlums. He had to say something. There was no way that he could just drive away and not say anything to his young friend. He wanted to make sure that he was okay and to let him know that he cared about him.
Sitting quietly, he watched them for a while and then slowly dropped Rosie into drive and headed their way. As he got closer, the kids began to stash things into their pockets and turn their faces away, avoiding eye contact. That didn’t sit well with Malachi. He pulled right up alongside the beat-up, piece of crap car and came to a dead stop. He rolled down his window and startled them when he said, “Travis?”
As the young man turned around, Malachi could see the panic on his face. Like the cat that had eaten the canary. He looked pale and his eyes avoided contact. His shaggy hair hung in a disheveled mess that covered up most of his face. When he finally realized who it was, his face softened a bit. “Hey, Malachi. How’s it goin’?”
His friends acted nervous, like they’d been busted. That was not Malachi’s intention, to stir stuff up. But he desperately wanted to talk to Travis, alone. “I haven’t seen you in a while, son. Can you get in, so we can talk for a moment?”
Nervously, the other kids said, “We gotta go, man. You cool here with the old dude?”
Travis nodded and watched them drive off. He opened Rosie’s passenger door and slid into the front seat beside Malachi. He was still avoiding eye contact, which made Malachi uncomfortable.
He inspected his young friend’s face and finally said, “How have you been, Travis?”
“Grand and dandy,” he replied, still doing everything in his power to avoid the constant stare.
“I’ve been worried about you. Is everything okay?” Malachi studied his face, just waiting for the moment when their eyes would meet. He wondered what he would see in them. Remorse, anger, fear? Or, was the kid just wasted out of his mind?
“It’s cool. I’m fine,” he replied staring down at his grungy tennis shoes while his leg twitched like mad. His foot brushed along the bag on the floor, completely oblivious to what was inside.
The dark circles under Travis’s eyes were a telltale sign that he was far from fine. And there was no mistaking the reeking smell of marijuana. “Travis, look at me.” Malachi spoke with determination, almost demanding that Travis make eye contact with him.
“What?” he replied harshly as he glanced over.
When their eyes met, Malachi held them. He stared long and hard into the young man’s soft, brown eyes. They reminded Malachi of doe eyes, warm and caring. They reminded him of Lukas.
“Travis, I’ve been worried sick about you. Are you okay?” The tone in his voice made the young man grin.
“You sure are a worrier, aren’t you?”
“When it comes to people that I care about, yes, I guess I am. Sue me. Now, answer the question.”
Travis became agitated. “I already told you that I’m fine. What more do you want from me?”
“I want to believe you.” He inspected the young man’s face, and said, “Are you high, Travis?”
He stared out the window, numb and detached. “Whatever. Why do you care what I do anyway?”
Malachi grabbed the back of his hand. “Because, I care about you, son.”
Travis pulled his hand away and snapped at him, “I’m not your son and I already told you that I’m fine.” He looked at his watch and acted like he had some place that he needed to be. “I gotta go, Malachi. I’ll see you later.”
Malachi quickly replied, “Travis, please, just give me one more minute.”
Taking his hand off the door handle, he looked into Malachi’s blue eyes. They held his stare. “Travis, I’m sorry. You’re right, you are not my son. I know that. But, you are someone that I care about and consider my friend. I know that you’re going through a lot right now. I just want you to remember that you’re not alone. I’m here for you. If you ever need me, you know where to find me. Okay?”
Travis sniffed and fought back a stray tear.
He hadn’t felt like anyone truly cared about him in a long time. His life was such a mess and he was overwhelmed with feelings that he couldn’t begin to sort out. Dark feelings. He felt odd, like he wasn’t even human. How could he have done that? What kind of a monster does something like that? The nightmares crept into the daylight, until it all seemed dark. He felt that there was no light left in any corner of his life. How could he tell Malachi all that, when he couldn’t even make sense of it himself? As hard as he’d tried, he couldn’t seem to be a good person. Maybe he really was just like his father after all. All he wanted to do was numb his own feelings and make them go away.
Nodding at Malachi, he looked into his eyes. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Wiping his face, he began to open up a bit. “Shit’s goin’ down at home. Mom and me are fighting a lot and I got suspended from school. Smoking, how stupid is that? But, other than that, life’s just grand and dandy.” He grinned at Malachi, trying to make light of the subject.
“Life is hard, Travis. Believe me, I know. You can call me anytime, night or day. You’ve got to get yourself together. Take your life back! Don’t let this one stupid incident ruin you. You’re a good kid and I believe in you.” With a friendly pat on the back, he smiled. “Come see me sometime. I sure do miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” Travis’s face softened a bit. “I’ve got a few amulets ready that I’ve been meaning to bring to you. I’ll stop by when I can.”
“I’d like that. Can I give you a ride home?”
Opening the door, Travis shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ll walk.”
“Okay, then. Take care of yourself, son.”
“You too, Malachi.”
And just like that he was gone, darting down a back alley and out of Malachi’s sight. What had happened to him? He looked so different; dark and depressed. Getting in trouble at home and at school, that wasn’t like Travis. Letting out a deep sigh, Malachi couldn’t help but feel responsible. He was well aware of the horrible path the kid was on. He’d ventured down the same path himself. Feeling angry and worthless, to a point where nothing made sense and you just wanted to give up. A familiar, sick feeling began to settle deep in the pit of his stomach.
Ten
Another long, lonely week went past. A few tourists stopped by the old mill, but not the visitor that Malachi waited to see. He had just given his angel plant some fresh ash and a good long drink of water. Resting, he sat back in his favorite rocking chair, sipping a tall glass of lemonade, smacking his lips with every sweet, tart gulp. The sour lemons made the back of his jaw twinge.
He heard a vehicle rounding the bend and watched as it slowed and turned onto the mill drive. Creaking across the rickety old bridge, Malachi saw that it was a police car. Parking askew across the small parking lot, Officer Fischer emerged, stretching his arms into the air and then re-tucking his shirt. Looking over, he noticed Malachi sitting outside and waved at him.
Malachi’s heart began to race and his thoughts ran rampant. What’s going on? Did he know something? Did Travis break down and tell someone? He breathed deeply, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat and nerves. “Hello, Officer Fischer. How have you been?”
As the officer made his way to the mill, he wiped his brow and his mustached upper lip with a napkin that he’d picked up off the front seat of his squad car. Walking slowly, he shuffled his feet, stirring up a trail of dust behind him. It hadn’t rained in several weeks, not a drop. The earth was parched and the leaves were brittle.
Trying to be friendly, Malachi greeted him, “Good to see you again. Can I interest you in a glass of cold lemonade?”
Fischer nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Chidester. I do believe that I will take you up on that offer. That’s very kind of you.”
With a warm smile, he replied, “Call me Malachi.”
Fischer followed Malachi through the store and into the small kitchen in the rear of the building. The smell of fresh squeezed lemons permeated the entire kitchen. Filling a tall glass with ice, he topped it off with lemonade, ice cold from the fridge.
Malachi handed the officer the glass and smiled. “What brings you all the way out here, Officer Fischer?”
He drank half the glass down in one long gulp and sighed. “That’s some good stuff, Malachi.”
“Thanks. I squeezed the lemons just this morning. Nothing like fresh lemonade on a warm, dry day.” Trying to be hospitable, Malachi continued, “Would you like to have a seat, Officer?”
He nodded, sat the glass on the table and pulled out a chair. He took another long drink as Malachi joined him at the table. As the officer pulled out his small notebook and a paper from his chest pocket, Malachi refilled his glass with lemonade. He tried not to let on how nervous he was, but he could feel his hands tremble as he placed the glass back down. Forcing his hands underneath the table, he held them together trying to hide the nervous shaking.
Officer Fischer opened a piece of paper and held it out for Malachi to look at. “We’ve got another missing kid on our hands.” He took out his reading glasses and opened his notebook, slowly reading over his chicken-scratch notes.
Malachi took the paper and looked at the face on the page. The young girl seemed to stare back at him. Her eyes were filled with confusion, but her face was a stranger.
Fischer read off the stats while he clicked his pen. Malachi stared at the lost face in the picture. “Sixteen years old. She’s from Massillon. Hangs out with a rough crowd and gets in trouble at school, almost on a daily basis it appears. Parents, of course, tell me that she’s an angel, never did a thing wrong in her entire life. Boyfriend’s missing as well, but he’s nineteen, so his folks aren’t pushing it.”
He took off his glasses and laid them on the table with his notebook and pen as he took another long drink of his lemonade. “If you ask me, she ran off with him. But, we have to jump through the hoops and do our job. By any chance, have you seen her?”
Malachi shook his head as he looked into her eyes. “Sorry, I’ve never seen this girl. That I recall, anyway. Do you think she came this way?”
He shook his head. “Probably not, but I know a lot of kids head out here, stirring up trouble. Thought maybe they might have stopped in your store on their way outta town.”
Handing the picture back, Malachi said, “Sorry. Haven’t seen that one. But I’ll keep my eyes open for her and let you know if I do.”
Officer Fischer opened up his billfold and handed Malachi a business card. “Here’s my number, just give me a ring if you happen to see anything.”
“Will do.” Malachi fought hard to keep quiet, but he couldn’t help himself. “By the way, what did you find out about that wreck out here a couple of weeks ago?”
Fischer shook his head and replied, “Damn, kids. His blood alcohol level was point one-seven. He was trashed. What a waste of a young life. Although, from what I hear, the kid was a real pain in the ass.” He placed his wallet back inside his pocket, swigged down the rest of his lemonade, and said, “What goes around, comes around, I guess.” Standing up slowly, he stretched his back, smiled and then shook Malachi’s hand. “Thank you for your time and the delicious lemonade.”
“My pleasure, Officer. Anytime. You be careful out there. It’s a crazy world we live in.” Malachi placed the lemonade back in the refrigerator, trying to act nonchalant.
“You can say that again,” he replied, as he headed towards the front of the store.
Malachi followed him out and bid him good-day. As he watched him drive off, Fischer’s words resonated in his head, “What goes around, comes around.” Even though he felt relieved that Junior’s case appeared open and shut, there was still a dreadful feeling about the whole event. He had to get it off his mind.
Heading around back, he shuffled his feet as the leaves crunched loudly. He stooped over and picked up a few amulet pieces off the ground. This would be a good distraction for him. He needed to restock his supply for the upcoming holiday rush.
As he turned to ma
ke his way around front, he was confronted by someone rushing out from behind the shed, yelling, “What the hell’s going on?”
Malachi was startled and dropped his wooden disks on the ground. He grabbed his whittling knife and turned quickly towards the voice. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he prepared to be assaulted. His nerves were on edge already and this was more than he could handle.
The attacker stopped in his tracks and held his hands out in front of him, trying to diffuse the situation. “Malachi, calm down.”
The older man tried to focus through his fear. Finally, he realized that it was Travis. Placing his knife back down on a table, he clutched his chest and sighed, “Travis, that’s a good way to get yourself hurt. Why are you sneaking up on me like that?”
Travis came closer, and replied, “What, were you going to take me down with your whittling knife?”
Malachi wiped his brow, and grinned. “Maybe. I do have mad skills.”
“What’s the cop doing here, Malachi?” Travis snapped at him, anxiously awaiting a response.
“Calm down, son. He was out here looking for some girl that’s gone missing from Massillon.” Malachi took a seat on the old bench by the back door and inhaled a deep breath.
“That’s it? That’s all he wanted?” The nervous tone in Travis’s voice was plain to hear. He’d been out by the shed watching them through the back window the entire time. They sat inside, calmly sipping lemonade while his imagination ran wild.
Malachi knew that he needed to calm Travis down. “Yes, son. That’s it. I even asked him about Junior. He said it’s an open and shut case.” Malachi patted the bench next to him. “Come on. Come sit down and take some deep breaths. You gotta quit sneaking up on me like that.”