The Family Tree

by John Everson

  “I’d like to take this back to my own room to read, if that’s okay.”

  Ellen hesitated. “We try not to let things leave this place. That way, nothing gets lost or accidently ruined ’er somethin’.”

  “I’ll be careful with it,” he promised. “I’ll bring it back down tomorrow. But I have to admit, I’m a little curious to read more, and…” he gestured to the crowded piles of junk around them. “This isn’t a very conducive spot for reading.”

  Ellen looked concerned, but then nodded. “No, I don’t suppose.” She nodded as if having some internal conversation that only she could hear, and then looked at him again square in the eye. “Take it with ya, but please, be careful. It’s not something we can replace.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  Scott took the journal back to his room and laid it on his bed once inside. Why he’d taken it, he really couldn’t even explain. He was here to figure out what to do about his inheritance, and reading the diary of a teenager who’d been dead for over one hundred years really wasn’t going to help him in the mission at hand. Still…he wanted to know more about her. There was something about the style of her thought that he liked. And she was like…his great, great…something.

  He sat down on the bed and looked at the journal. What was he going to do about his other question? Then he remembered Ellen’s admonition that he should learn about his family before he made any decisions on how to handle their ancestral home. She had a bit of self-interest at work there to encourage a stall of any kind, but…he got it.

  Scott lay back on the bed and picked up the journal. He could deal with the hard stuff later.

  But, before he could settle back with the “easy stuff”, there was a knock on the door.

  “I’m being good,” a voice called from the other side. “See, I didn’t just use the skeleton key and barge right in, I stood out here and knocked.”

  Scott stifled a smile as he got up to open the door for Caroline. When he did, her smile greeted him like a light bulb.

  “Hiya,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was wearing a white tank top and black shorts trimmed in pink. She looked good.

  “Hello,” he said, and when she walked past his arm, he pronounced, “Well, come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Mama said to see if you’d go shopping with me because I need some help with carrying it all and you need to see where everything around here is.”

  She sounded a bit putout at having to make the invitation, but Scott nodded. “I suppose there’s some sense in that.”

  “Well then, let’s go,” she said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him towards the door. “We need to be back with some things for dinner, or nobody’s going to eat tonight.”

  “Just so I don’t have to cook it,” he said.

  “No worries about that. Mama’s a great cook, but she needs something to cook. And I think that Rocky and Jerry are going to be pretty hungry when they get back here tonight after climbing all day.”

  “Good point. Let’s go load up the shopping cart,” he said, earning an odd look in the process.

  She led him out of the inn by a side entrance, and to a small Ford pickup truck that looked as if it had seen better decades.

  They pulled out of the entryway and kicked up a plume of dust as Caroline gunned the engine on the rutted road.

  “Where’s the fire?” Scott asked, holding on with white knuckles to the door handle.

  “What do you mean?” Caroline asked.

  “You’re going to crash us or run someone off the road!”

  She laughed. “Ain’t nobody on these roads. Remember, this ain’t the big city!”

  At that moment, the path—Scott decided it didn’t deserve the designation of a road—narrowed to the width of the car. Caroline beeped the horn three times and then took a ninety-degree turn without slowing down. The truck grew dark as they twisted into a valley and the tree cover grew heavier than ever.

  Suddenly Scott’s stomach was in his throat as the road dipped like a roller coaster ride, and then he let out a yell as a flash of fur on four legs darted across the road just in front of them. Caroline just smiled and swerved slightly, rolling up onto the tall brush that bordered the muddy ruts and then bouncing back down onto the flat earth again.

  A minute later, they shot out of the shadows and into a clearing where there were a handful of buildings. The path widened back to an actual road, though the asphalt was as crumbled and loose as gravel. She pulled up in front of a tin-roofed building that read General Store in faded red letters above a ramshackle awning that was held up by three rough-hewn wooden poles.

  “I never knew a ride to the grocery could be such an adventure,” he said, when she pulled the key from the ignition.

  “Just drivin’,” Caroline said. “Gotta have a little fun with everything you do, that’s what my mama always says. Though I don’t think she really does it.”

  “That was fun?” he asked, but she was already out the door.

  He followed her inside and saw a store that looked as if it had been lifted from a 1950s movie. There were sacks of flour stacked next to barrels of oil and boxes of noodles and cereals and the like. There were shelves of canned and dry goods, but it was nothing like the supermarkets he was used to. This was very much a homespun affair. He’d never seen such a thing before; it felt as if he’d walked into another world. On the far side of the store, behind the cash register station, a dozen rifles hung on the wall. Near the door, the head of an elk sprouted from the wall, sporting a rack of impressive antlers.

  Now he knew why Caroline had looked at him funny earlier when he’d mentioned filling their cart. There were no shopping carts. She picked up a beat-up, woven basket near the door and began walking the aisles, tossing in dry goods in quick succession. When they reached the back butcher counter, the store clerk followed her from the register. When he stepped behind the meat counter, he pulled on a well-stained apron.

  “Afternoon, Caroline,” he said with a drawl that Scott could barely comprehend. He nodded at Scott, but looked immediately back to Caroline. “You bring us anything today for trade?”

  She shook her head. “It’s feeding season,” she said. “And dry. We don’t dare touch it for more than our own supply right now. Last Tap’s coming up.”

  The man nodded. “You’ll be wanting stew meat, or something else today?”

  “Stew it is!” Caroline said. “Mama used up the last of what we had yesterday.”

  Moments later the man came back with a large white package. “I’ll take it to the register.”

  Caroline pointed out a large sack of potatoes to Scott, stacked on top of a dozen others. “Grab that, will you?”

  She brought two baskets of goods to the front counter in the end, along with some heavier things she asked Scott to take to the front while she shopped.

  By the time they rang out, it took both of them to carry everything to the truck. Caroline threw it all in the bed, and then pointed around. “This is pretty much it as far as ‘town’ goes. You can drive another fifteen minutes to get to Tosca but we do all our shopping here. You can get gas over there,” she pointed at a single pump across the street, “or a good cold beer right there at Al’s.” Scott looked and Al’s appeared to be a converted motor home with a Hamm’s neon light bolted to its side. A plank set of stairs with a small wooden deck had been constructed in front of the door. Two round tables and a few folding chairs took up the entire space on the small deck, offering a place to drink outdoors.

  “Good to know there are so many options,” he said with a healthy dose of sarcasm, as they climbed back into the truck.

  “Stick with me, and I’ll show you all the hidden places,” she said. And with that, she kicked up rocks and the truck shot back down into the woods.

  The road seemed to rock up and down an
d back and forth as Caroline whipped the wheel around without letting her foot off the gas.

  This time, after a minute or so, Scott decided to close his eyes.

  Chapter Six

  By dinnertime, The Family Tree Inn was awash in the smell of a savory backwoods stew, and Scott’s stomach was growling in anticipation when Caroline came to collect him. He’d dozed off while reading a bit of Margaret’s old journal but was just waking when he heard the click of his door lock turn.

  “Come on, ya slugabed!” Caroline called cheerfully as she stepped into the room. Privacy didn’t seem to be a concern of hers.

  “Do you break into the rooms of all of your guests while they’re sleeping?” he asked, pushing himself to a sitting position.

  “Only the ones I like,” she said with a flirtatious smile. “Sorry I forgot to knock.” Then she bent and kissed him on the cheek. “Do you mind?”

  He couldn’t help but see deep into her cleavage as the thin white tank top she wore dipped down. It was a very enticing view. Then she straightened without waiting for him to answer, and took his hand to pull him off the bed. “Mama’s got her special stew up, so I don’t want you to miss it.”

  The table looked much the same as the night before. The old woman, Agnes was still there, as were her sons, the handyman brothers, and the Thornes, who he’d seen on their way out this morning. Scott ended up between Rocky and Caroline once again while Ellen took the head of the table. She raised a glass of amber liquid, and the rest of the table did the same.

  “It’s the end of another day, and we celebrate with the blood of the Family Tree. Our own special ale, which will bring health to your body and ease to your mind.”

  Scott got the feeling as she spoke the words that this was a ritual she performed every night. When she finished the toast, she downed her glass, and the rest of the table did the same. As Scott drank his, he felt the warmth slip down his throat and within seconds he felt a bit fuzzy in the head. He raised his brow and turned to Caroline.

  “Wow, that was strong. Last night it didn’t hit me at all.”

  She smiled. “It kinda builds on itself, from what people say. You don’t notice the first time, then you feel a little funny the second, and then by the third time, it goes right to your head. It’s like you’re instantly a little drunk every time you taste it after that. I’ve seen it happen with a lot of our guests that way.”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I’ve been drinking it since I was a kid. Now?” she slipped her hand across his thigh and then leaned close to his shoulder to whisper. “Now, it just makes me horny.”

  Scott took a breath, but didn’t remove her hand. He didn’t understand the attention, but he was definitely intrigued by it. She was really too young for him, but it was hard to deny her…

  Ellen began speaking again, explaining the origins of the stew that was now passing around the table. His ears perked up especially when she mentioned him.

  “I made this tonight especially for Scott Belvedere,” she said, deigning him with a broad smile. “This is an old recipe handed down from your great-great-grandfather. Its origin is a classic prairie stew, so you might get just about anything thrown in it back then, but when William Belvedere founded this inn, he formalized the recipe and had a pot of it simmering in a big black pot in the fireplace every day in the winter. You’ll find the usual carrots and potatoes and leeks, but we’ve also got some special spices that you’ll only find grown here, in the mountains, and the beef itself is marinated in the blood of the tree…our special ingredient that nobody else can duplicate. So just like the toast, this is a meal that will keep you warm and keep you strong.”

  Scott felt the pressure of Caroline’s fingers kneading his thigh, and wondered if the stew also made her horny. Rather than encourage her, he turned to Rocky, who was ladling the stew into her bowl.

  “How was the hike,” he asked, and she smiled.

  “Jerry got his rocks off on it,” she said and then passed him the crock with an “I dare you to ask” expression on her face.

  He took the dish and filled his own bowl with large chunks of beef and potatoes and some other colorful but unidentifiable vegetables. The rich brown broth threw off a steam that was heavenly rich. He held the serving bowl for Caroline. He was both relieved and saddened when she finally took her hand from his leg to accept the bowl and filled her own dish. Then she passed the stew on and Scott turned back to Rocky, who was blowing on a spoonful.

  “What made Jerry so happy?” he asked, belatedly taking the bait.

  Jerry grinned and put a hand on Rocky’s shoulder, but he let his wife answer.

  “I got so sweaty up in the hills that I had to take my top off,” she said.

  Scott laughed. “Do you normally hike while wearing just a bra?” he asked.

  “No bra,” she said. “That was the problem. It got all wet in the grooves so I just took it off. Jerry got so turned on at one point that I had to stop and help him out.”

  “She told me that tents were for sleeping in, not for khaki pants,” Jerry added.

  Scott didn’t think this was an appropriate direction for conversation over dinner, but he couldn’t help himself. His curiosity demanded that he give the topic one more push. “So, um…how did you help him out?”

  Rocky looked at him like he was a moron. “I gave him a blow job, what do you think?”

  She didn’t lower her voice at all, and Scott’s eyes bugged as the conversation around the table seemed to stop.

  One of the brothers snorted. “She sucked herself down some Mountain Oysters, is what she did.”

  “Owen, mind your mouth,” Agnes said quietly from across the table, and his face fell. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  Ellen smiled. “Sometimes you just have to take what nature gives you,” she said.

  “Well, nature didn’t give me nothing today,” Rocky said in that soft but steely voice, with a glare at her husband.

  Sherrilyn Cartwright, the redhead, was sitting next to Jerry, and she leaned in to Rocky’s husband and whispered, but loud enough that Scott could still hear her jibe. “Just came and went, huh,” she said. Then she gave him a playful pat on the cheek. “Typical man.”

  Rocky shrugged. “I’ll get what I need tonight.”

  “You think he’ll be ready by then?” Sherrilyn said.

  “Who said I’ll get it from him?” Rocky asked, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

  Suddenly Scott felt a hand slide up his other thigh. Rocky’s hand.

  What the fuck? Now he had two women fondling his legs? This had never happened before in his life. Date night for him back home was usually his friend Lefty and a porno DVD.

  But Rocky was even more brazen than Caroline. Her fingers didn’t stay in one place. They crept up his inner thigh from his knee to his crotch, and then slipped over him like a codpiece and gave a gentle but firm squeeze.

  She turned to him and dipped her head so that her eyes bored into his. “That could work for me,” she said in the faintest whisper as her fingers traced his growing erection. And then her hand was gone, and she leaned in the other direction to kiss her husband on the mouth.

  “He’s not a bad hiking partner,” she said a moment later, when she broke the kiss. Her lustful words and actions seemed to inspire the Thornes across the table, who also set down their spoons and kissed. At first Scott thought it was sweet, but then he saw the husband’s hands reaching under the table and then his wife jolted upright in her chair, her eyes opening wide. Scott realized that Mr. Thorne had his fingers up his wife’s snatch! And she writhed in the chair as he dug around under the table. She moaned just a little, not able to hold back.

  Caroline leaned in to Scott. “Sometimes the Family Table gets a little frisky!”

  Ellen picked up a flask of amber, and poured herself a glass before passi
ng it to Agnes, who passed it in turn to her sons. Owen broke up their wildly inappropriate groping to hand Mrs. Thorne the bottle. Her face was flushed and her eyes blinked as she accepted it and shakily poured herself a full glass. When the flask reached his side of the table, Rocky poured for both herself and Scott, filling the glass all the way to the rim, even when Scott said, “Whoa, that’s enough!”

  “To the Family Tree,” Ellen said, lifting her glass. “May we all find our dreams in the comfort of the night.”

  The table raised their glasses as one, and most took down the liquor in one draught. Scott only sipped his, and then set it down to go back to his stew. But a few minutes later, Caroline pressed the glass back into his hand and urged him to finish. “Don’t waste it,” she said. “Drink up so we can go—I want to show you something.”

  Scott felt a rush of excitement in his gut. He couldn’t say why, but he had the undeniable feeling that what she wanted to show him was her cleavage again, this time with even less covering it. And he couldn’t deny that the thought made his heart speed up.

  A lot. He could feel himself growing uncomfortable as his underwear stretched at the thought of Caroline with her shirt off.

  “Dessert tonight is an apple pie,” Ellen announced, after everyone had sat back in their seats. The brothers were both patting their stomachs, and the Thornes had gone back to making out as if they were alone in their own bedroom, which was a little surreal at a group dinner table. But nobody said a word or even seemed to notice.

  Scott passed on the pie and handed it to Rocky. “Did you want some?” he asked.

  She raised one eyebrow at him. “I don’t think you should ever say no to something sweet. And sticky.” She cut a healthy slice and slid it to her dessert plate, while Sherrilyn walked around the table collecting the dirty dishes and disappearing with them into the kitchen.

  “Just take a taste,” Caroline said, and held a fork of golden pie at his lips. Scott grinned and opened, and then gasped as the flavor went straight to his head. The apple was tart and the cinnamon warm. The combination with the syrup of melted sugar sent a jolt of pleasure from his head to his groin. Ellen made a helluva pie!