by Tara Gabor
Chapter 6
Three Weeks Later
Rose walked out to the porch, tamping a small bit of tobacco into a corncob pipe. A short smoke on the porch, looking out across the mountains, smoke still hanging in the air at the start of the day – these was Rose’s favorite moments of the day.
Rose eyed the young woman sweeping the porch. Callie had come to live with her a year ago when she turned eighteen and had proven to be a worker, up earlier than Rose’s own girls, and always looking for something useful to do. If she wasn’t sweeping, cleaning, or tending the beehives, she had her nose stuck in a book.
“Good morning, Callie,” Rose said, inhaling a prized lungful of pipe smoke.
“Good morning, Rose. Lovely morning.”
“You are getting an early start, girl.”
“I, uh, just wanted the porch to look presentable, you know, in case anyone came a-calling.”
Rose considered what Callie said. Rose didn’t put stock in fortune telling or spells, but Callie lived with May Gayland after Callie’s mother was killed. Everyone said May had gifts. Some said they were heavenly gifts of the spirit and others believed the opposite.
Rose knew May. They were in the same quilting circle, and Rose refused to think ill of the woman based on silly stories. Some folks liked to shake their heads at the sound of her name. “She doesn’t attend church like a Christian.” What of that? Rose had stopped attending regular church after her husband died, though perhaps for her daughters’ sake she should go more often, dragging them along. As soon as Rose forgave God for taking her Daniel, she would consider going back to church.
“I’ll start peeling potatoes for stew,” Callie offered, retreating into the small cabin with the broom.
Rose remained on the porch, enjoying her pipe and the cool air. She looked over the clean porch. It would look inviting from the road or the hollow.
Callie and May were not related by blood. Even if Rose believed in the evil eye, or ESP, which she didn’t, she couldn’t believe they were passed on from woman to woman just by living in the same house. That made no sense, did it?
The sun began to show its color for the day. It looked like the day might warm up. Spring was trying to show itself. Rose heard a dove cooing. She had better get to feeding the few chickens and the rooster she kept, but she lingered, smoking the last of the tobacco in the pipe’s bowl.
She believed in work. That’s what life was made of. She believed in what she saw, what was in front of her.
Callie came back out on the porch, stopping at Rose’s side.
“Potatoes are simmering. I’ll go feed the chickens before they think we missed ‘em today.”
Rose nodded. She best get prepared for visitors.
Chapter 7
The cafe robbery was a last-minute idea, built on impulse and expedience. David wanted a hot cup of coffee and a place out of the cold, and was stoned enough to listen to Guy. The hunting trip had been a bust. They spent all of the ammo and bagged two small rabbits, smoking Guy’s reefers before, during, and after looking for game. The illegal smoke may not have made them better hunters, but it did take the edge off of David’s mood.
When they walked out of the woods, near where Guy said the women lived, they were in front of the Mountaintop Cafe. David wished for a hot cup of coffee, out loud.
“They’ve got coffee,” James said, pointing at the diner a few hundred yards in front of them, across the road.
“You have any money?” David asked.
James shook his head, “No.”
“Let’s trade ‘em these rabbits!” That was Jed’s suggestion. But Guy, always the salesman, had come up with the winning gambit.
“Let’s pretend to hold them up - for a cup of coffee,” he laughed. They all laughed, and they all followed him inside, playing along with his charade. Guy pretended to have a handgun in his pocket. David couldn’t believe how easy the holdup had gone.
They arrived at Rose’s place a few minutes later with guns and rabbits in hand.
“Fine addition to the stew, boys,” Rose said, taking possession of the rabbits. “I’ll skin these. Might have enough to make a rim for a hat. You can come in and warm yourselves, visit with the girls.” The young men followed her into the cabin. David wandered off and found his perch above the hollow.
David glanced up at the porch of the cabin 500 yards from where he huddled. He would have preferred to be inside as well, with a bowl of hot stew, but the fool women-folk would not let him alone with his own thoughts, especially the older woman. They called her Mama, but David suspected the woman was more madam than mother, and the cabin was as much brothel as family farm. She had taken control of the rabbits, offering to make stew and earmuffs. David heard no mention of money.
He understood younger men’s needs, but he scowled to himself. Both he and Elizabeth were virgins when they married all those years ago. He did not stray. He was happy with Elizabeth and their lovemaking. Well, he ruffled his head. He had no comparison, did he? He had no idea what another woman might be like. Someone different might be interesting. David wondered if he would learn something from the old tramp, maybe a new trick or two. He shook his head. After thirty years of marriage and sex twice a week, Thursday night and Sunday morning before Elizabeth went to church, how would he explain a new move? Let the young ones sow oats. He needed to think.
Chapter 8
Kyle demonstrated good brushing technique and flossing on an oversized set of teeth made of spongy plastic. Using a long string made to look like dental floss, Kyle eased the string back and forth, up and down, repeating the demonstration from different angles. The children paid close attention, at least for the most part, encouraging Kyle to keep the talk upbeat and moving.
He began his talk on sugary foods and the effect sugar imposed on teeth, using a model with removable parts. He removed the enamel, exposing the softer dentin.
“The dentin gives your teeth the color that they have. That makes dentin a very important part of the tooth, doesn’t it?” he began.
Reverend Wellesford knocked and opened the door to the bus, not waiting for a response. He was wide-eyed, and his mouth made a firm line.
“Dr. Kyle, you must stop now. The children need to go home.”
“I was nearing the end. I have a few more remarks to enforce what we learned today and I have some goodies to give out, too.”
“Probably not a sucker on a stick,” one boy called out.
“I am sorry, doctor, but I must insist now. The weather has taken a sudden and dangerous turn. I just heard a warning on the radio. The children need to get home to their families and you need to get off of the mountain.”
There was sudden activity with children shrugging on jackets, standing, and ready to leave. Kyle had lost command of his audience. Everyone in the bus recognized the gravity of the situation except Kyle, prone to cautious concern rather than quick reaction. The Reverend did not appreciate Kyle’s deliberate calm.
“Hurry, children, that’s right, button or zip those coats and use your mittens if you have them.”
Kyle hustled to a drawer where he kept small bags of giveaways, the same as he had given to Miz May and Thomas. He struggled to grab a few of the bags, thrusting them into the hands of the children as they made their way towards the door.
“Doctor, time is essential as much for you as these children. You have further to go and the weather is rapidly deteriorating.”
“It is important these children have the tools they need before they forget what they learned today.”
Kyle continued handing out bags. Reverend Wellesford helped them down the steps of the bus.
“The school bus will be dropping the children off and they should all be home within the half hour. We appreciate your visit with us and hope you come again, but you won’t think kindly of us if you don’t get yourself down the mountain. That road can become impassable. It only recently opened this year. Certainly I thought it was safe for you to come, bu
t I must encourage you to leave for home now.”
“All-right. Thank you for your concern, Reverend. Miz May cautioned me earlier this morning. Perhaps she should have alerted you. She seems to have known about this weather alert.”
Reverend Wellesford stood like a stone statue, his grave face now burdened with a hint of green. Kyle marveled at the change. He was merely being flippant. What had he said to cause such a reaction?
“Miz May warned you, herself?” Reverend Wellesford asked slowly, earnest eyes imploring Kyle for an answer.
“Yes sir,” Kyle began. He wanted to pick his words carefully this time. “She ‘read the signs,’ I believe that’s how she put it. Some birds came to visit her place, said that told her bad times were coming, bad weather, and I was to leave as soon as possible or there would be dire consequences.” He shrugged, as if to dismiss the mystical affirmation. “I’m sure she meant well,” he voice faded, hoping he had allayed the man’s fears.
“Best heed her,” was the reverend’s response. He sighed, heaving his chest up and down. “She did indeed mean well, but her skill with signs is well known here. I have prayed for her – that her soul will not be consumed by the devil’s trickery. You know, not so long ago she would have been called a witch by righteous, God fearing people.” He turned to go.
“Reverend, surely, she heard a radio announcement just as you did, and she added her own embellishments. You can’t see anything sinister in her, do you?”
The Reverend paused again, turning to look at Kyle over his shoulder. His final words spoken with fear and judgement, “Miz May has an eldritch way with animals. Birds come at her call. She fears none in the wild. It is said a black bear protects her home. Those are not Christian gifts.”
Not a strong churchgoer, Kyle had agreed to attend church with his wife after the baby was born. He was no apologist, more likely to play devil’s advocate then defend religion. He couldn’t resist doing so now.
“St. Francis of Assisi was known for his way with animals, so I’ve read. Perhaps Miz May has similar gifts?”
“I will pray for her and you. Godspeed, Dr. Kyle.”
With that, the reverend left the dental bus, waving to the school bus leaving in one direction, then at Kyle’s moving dental lab leaving in the opposite direction. Kyle glanced in the side mirror as he rolled up the road, away from the church and passed the diner, now dark and closed, where the robbery had taken place, a robbery Kyle dubbed The Great Appalachian Cafe Heist. He grinned, thinking a clever title would add excitement to the morning’s anecdote when he described the event at home and at the university. He would have to think about his delivery. He could start with, “Let me tell you about The Great Appalachian Cafe Heist!” or “The day began with poached eggs and toast at a modest eatery on the mountain top, but ended with The Great Appalachian Cafe Heist!”
Some great heist, sixty dollars was all they took from the restaurant. They got his thirty dollars, but the wallet and picture within it was all that meant anything to him. He hoped the rag-tag group could get some mileage out of the small windfall. They were obviously down on their luck. If they were employed in the mountains, Kyle could understand they didn’t make a lot of money, but then, most people got along fine without resorting to robbery, armed or faux armed. Some families found jobs in the larger cities, the father, and perhaps a son, renting a room during the week near the job, then spending weekends back home on the mountain. Being away from home for days in order to earn a living would be a sacrifice, Kyle thought, easing his bus slowly through a downward curve. He should know. He spent his days travelling through rural Kentucky, leaving early in the morning and often arriving home after dark and after dinner, his wife keeping the food warm to share with him. His employment did not require him to sleep away from home, though, and his salary made it possible for his wife to stay home and keep house, including a full meal every evening.
He didn’t know the motivation for the morning’s crime, but some level of desperation must be at the heart of it. He hoped the loot would be enough for them. If it wasn’t, could the motley crew become dangerous?
His reverie caused Kyle to misjudge the next curve. He caught himself at the last moment, correcting quickly, grateful the curve was gradual and not one of the many hairpin bends for which the mountains were notorious.
The next several minutes took Kyle and the bus through a mountain pass few people travelled. The spring landscape revealed craggy stone faces and features that summer’s lush foliage would hide in a few weeks. Kyle keenly took in each inch of his surroundings, like a man aware of his mortality, seeing the abundance of life all around him, budding through the cold, proclaiming life’s vitality. He relaxed and settled in his chair, prepared for a comfortable ride home.
Chapter 9
Movement snapped David from his silent scheming, still shivering, hunched on the ledge above the narrow valley floor. One of the women, David thought her name was Callie, gingerly crunched through the soft snow to a stand of five beehives. A thick cover of gray padding lay over each beehive, secured with a length of rope wrapped near the bottom.
David’s attention did not linger on Callie. Someone else moved much closer. David turned his head, ready to react if he were menaced, but he relaxed and watched his younger son, James, making his way down the hill.
“You must be freezing. Temperature is dropping and will keep a-dropping. The radio aired an alert.”
“James, come sit next to me. I need to speak to you, son.”
James obeyed, moving closer to David and dropping down, balancing on the balls of his feet. His arms circled around his light jacket. He looked expectantly at his father.
“James, I need to leave. We need to split up. It was a fool’s errand robbing that damn cafe.” He paused. James felt anxious, but he remained silent. “Sixty dollars! What a fool I was to think a small mountain restaurant would make a lot of money, let alone have it there in the cashbox first thing in the morning. I should have ordered up a thermos of coffee. Would o’ done us more good than our taking the money. Now, here we all be, a-waitin’ the police to find four desperate robbers.”
“Dad. We got ninety dollars, free and clear. I don’t bring that much home in a week.”
“You have to split it up four ways and commit a crime to get it. I should never have allowed this. I’ve been thinking. We need to split up. We did not leave any fingerprints behind.”
“And we covered our faces,” James interjected.
“Yes, yes, we did. So the description the police have is general. Four white men brandishing ninety dollars cash. If we split up the money and take off separately, the general description will be useless. Guy can head back to town. You and Jed can head back to your momma. I’ll return soon enough. You and Jed take the rifles and hunt your way home. Your momma makes a good rabbit stew, too. You remember that.”
James did not know how to respond. He did not like the idea of splitting up. His mother had been worried enough lately about their father. How would it look for him and Jed to show up without him when they had left together? James knew the area. He knew the way home. He could read the signs left by animals he needed to be on the watch for. He could avoid poisonous plants and find drinkable water. His mother had shared many of these secrets, knowledge she had learned growing up in the mountains. Her family had moved from valley to hillside to coal town, with Elizabeth soaking up all the folk lore and native knowledge that came her way, in school and at wise women’s tables. James learned from her, but also listened to his father and older brother, learning mechanics alongside herbal and mountain lore.
Trying to think of a response, James watched Callie tending the beehives. She examined each stack of boxes, checking the covers carefully, adjusting the strings at the bottom, drawing them closer to the box. She swatted the air, waving a single errant honeybee back into the hive.
“Momma won’t be happy,” James shook his head.
“I said I will be home directly. You fini
sh your whoring tonight and start off early in the morning. Tell your brother what I said.”
“They aren’t whores!” James protested. “They’re nice. You should come see for yourself.”
“I see, James. I see my boys and their cousin sowing their oats. I know a man’s needs, boy.”
“But, we’ve just been talking around the fire. They are baking bread and fixin’ us a meal. Callie’s checking their bees now,” he nodded his head in the woman’s direction. She pulled her thin coat around her shoulders and started up the rise.
“Yes, they are clever whores. Don’t say anymore to me about it, boy. They are grown women who know how to entice men to bring them gifts and pretty trifles.”
James wanted to object to his father’s characterization of the women in the cabin, especially Callie with whom James had been conversing. He liked it when she laughed at his jokes and stroked his arm. He would have liked to deny any prurient interest in her, but his feelings, while tender, were not entirely chaste. He wondered about making love to her, if she would ever say yes, and how he was supposed to go about the asking. He hung his head.
“It’s okay, boy. Boys grow into men and your time is here. I won’t say more about it, just that I will be long gone by the morning. I’ll be establishing an alibi for the robbery, some job or other.”
“Well, we could establish an alibi with you,” James started.
“What did I say? You and your brother get home and back to our maw. That will be your alibi. We cannot all be together. Now that’s all there is to it.”
James nodded sullenly, throwing a pebble down the slope.
David stood, stomped his feet and wiggled his arms.
“Mind what I said, James.”
James watched his father walk away for a few moments before going back to the cabin. He knew Callie sensed the change in his mood, though both Jed and Guy took no notice.
Chapter 10
Heading home early felt like a vacation day, and Kyle’s mood was lighthearted as he steered the bus down the mountain. It was barely 2 pm, and the sun was shining streaks of gold through barren tree limbs. Kyle noticed the falling temperature, turning the bus’s heater on low, but he did not share the concern of Miz May and Reverend Wellesford about the weather. Apparently, an earlier announcement on the radio gave a dire warning. Kyle felt sure the concerned reverend had misunderstood or overreacted to the prediction of an approaching storm and to the supernatural powers of Miz May. Kyle grinned, remembering her words of “reading the signs”. She was a clever old gal, he thought. Certainly she had wisdom. Kyle didn’t doubt that, not for a second. Most likely, she took a clue from the radio weatherman, adding to the bare facts from the announcer about cooler weather. She personalized her premonition with specific observations about hungry birds, undoubtedly eating a bit more on a cool morning than on a hot summer’s day. Kyle’s own appetite that morning had been healthier than usual, normally satisfied with a toaster pastry or toasted English muffin with jam. Perhaps those wild birds had flown an extra mile or two before arriving at her feeder. At least she had not claimed to recognize each of them. Regardless, Miz May had a flare for the mystic.