by Chris Neeley
James got up from the floor and moved to the ladder. Looking up, he could see just the very edge of something up in the loft. It was large and had a tarp over it. What in the world has he brought home? he thought. He grasped a rung of the ladder.
"Don't go up there."
James whipped his head around.
His father was sitting up, rubbing his head.
James looked back up in the loft.
"James, I said, don't go up there."
James turned to his father. Anger flared in his chest. "Out drinking again, huh?"
"Watch yourself, boy. I could be askin' you just why in the hell you saw fit to attack me." Seph got up from the floor. Both of his knees cracked. He looked at James. "What do you want to do, fight me now?"
James set his jaw. His father was so...he didn't know what. "Don't you realize what you are doing to this family? To Mom? Why do you have to go out and get so soused up that I find you out here in the barn, the truck's no where to be seen and you smell like you've been pickled? What did you do, wreck the truck?" James hands were balled into fists. He felt the anger rise to his face.
His father hitched his pants up and took a step toward James. "I'm only going to say this once. Whenever you think that you're big enough to take me, you just come right on, son, because the last time I looked, I was still the boss around this here place."
James couldn't take it. All those nights that he had heard his mother cry herself to sleep flooded into his mind and body, before he knew it, his fist came around and struck his father square in the jaw.
Seph reeled backwards, tripping over his own feet until he fell flat on his back. He stared at James, the wind knocked out of him.
James looked at his father, took a deep breath, and walked out of the barn.
***
Seph lay where he was and watched his son walk out of the barn without looking back. He rubbed his jaw. "I'll be damned," he said. Seph had seen the anger boiling in James, just under the surface, and he had wondered how long it would be before James tried to take a swing at him. Well, he had swung and it had definitely connected. Seph was going to have to set the boy straight. There was no way that he was going to put up with a sixteen year old son thinking that he was better than his daddy. And if this was the kind of reception he got from his son, what was his wife going to do?
He raised himself up off the floor, stood and brushed himself off, and figured it was time to face Chloe.
It couldn't get any worse now, could it?
Seph walked into the kitchen and was greeted by Chloe's back.
She was standing at the stove, in a battered pink robe that had seen better days. Her hair was mussed from sleep and she hadn't bothered to do anything other than shove it back behind her ears. Something sizzled on the stove. Seph caught the smell of eggs as he hung his hat on the peg by the door.
James was no where to be seen.
Seph cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair. It felt gritty. He craved a long, hot shower. Chloe kept her back turned. She reached into the cupboard above and to the right of the stove and pulled down a plate.
Seph wiped at his mouth and looked around the kitchen. It looked the same as it always had. Everything in its place. It was warm, smelling of eggs and toast. Safe.
Chloe shoveled four eggs onto the plate, and carried them to the table. She put the plate at his place, her eyes avoiding him, and went back to the stove.
Seph shuffled over to his chair and sat down.
The eggs stared up at him, the yellow irises of their eyes accusing. Seph took his fork and stabbed them, popping them.
He looked at Chloe's back.
She grabbed an egg from the carton and started to break it on the edge of the skillet.
Seph took his fork and moved the eggs around on his plate. He wasn't sure how mad Chloe was, so he wasn't sure how to approach her.
A quick movement caught his eye. He looked up. He ducked just in time and the raw egg flew past his head, splattering on the wall behind his head.
She was pissed.
"You son-of-a-bitch," Chloe said, grabbing some more ammunition from the egg carton.
"Chloe--" Seph made a move for the door.
"You come back here," she warned, egg-filled hand raised, "Joesph Mayhew! Sit down!"
She meant business.
Seph dropped back into his chair. He clasped his hands in front of his plate and stared. He felt like a school boy who had just gotten caught looking up girls' dresses with a mirror.
Chloe approached the table, egg in hand and stood directly in front of him. The table between them made her seem far away. Distant.
Seph swallowed.
"Who is she, Seph?" Chloe asked.
Seph heard a quiver in her voice. Oh God. He'd hurt her bad this time.
"Chloe, there's nobody else. Believe me," he said, trying his best to look honest. From the look on her face right now, Seph knew that he would never tell her. She looked like her whole world had caved in. He would not see her hurt that badly. Not for anyone.
He watched a tear trickle down Chloe's cheek. He got up and went around the table. He gingerly put his arms around her. She was trembling. He pulled her into his chest and Chloe broke down in tears.
Seph smoothed her hair. "Chloe, I'm sorry. I'll stop drinking. I promise."
Chloe dropped the egg that she had been holding. It shattered on the toe of his boot. Her arms flew around his waist. Sobs racked her. Seph held her tightly.
He had to get rid of that babe.
The sooner, the better.
***
Anna Caine slept.
She had cast the mirror spell and had seen Seph and Babe Rose in the mirror. He had taken her babe into his barn. That was good. The babe shouldn't be out in the weather.
She had gathered everything that she thought she would need from the herb cabinet and tucked that and the book and her mirror into an old potato sack and hung the sack on the bedpost. Then she stripped the bloody covers from the bed, flipped the old mattress over and fell in a heap on top of it.
Exhaustion overtook her.
Sleeping, her head was full of dreams of her babe's beautiful grave and the flowers that she would plant there in the spring.
***
James paced his bedroom floor. His father's drinking was getting way out of hand. Maybe that's what Aunt Doll had tried to warn him about. James slapped the side of his dresser as he passed. Maybe she meant for him not to push his father too far.
He still couldn't believe that he had actually hit him. He was even more surprised when his father didn't get up off that barn floor and beat him to a pulp.
His mother yelled in the kitchen. James walked to his door and opened it. His father must have finally come in from outside and he hoped his mother really gave him hell.
He leaned against the doorjamb and listened to the discussion going on down in the kitchen. It didn't last very long.
James was disgusted that his mother hadn't screamed, yelled and threw his father out of the house. But there wasn't anything that James could do about it.
He sauntered back into his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He would lay here and wait until his father went to go get the truck, where ever he had left it this time, and when he was sure that he was gone, he would go up into the loft.
His father was hiding something.
And that something couldn't be anything good.
***
Seph and Matthew rumbled along in Matthew's truck later on Tuesday morning. Seph swore his teeth were going to shatter if Matthew hit one more pothole. He hadn't missed one yet. Seph tried to clear a spot in the floorboard to rest at least one foot but it was impossible. Matthew hadn't cleaned out this old rattling beast in years. The poor truck wasn't even a color anymore. Seph thought it had been red at one time, but now the color was so faded that it was indistinguishable.
Finally, they came up to Seph's truck.
It was still straddled ac
ross the log, looking like a fat-bellied pup that couldn't quite get his belly over it.
Matthew ground the gears in the old rattle-beast and brought it to a stop a few feet from the nose of Seph's truck.
Seph jumped out of the truck, hoping the door wouldn't come off in his hand. He hurried to the back of Matthew's truck and got his toolbox out of the bed. He had it in the bed of his own truck before both of Matthew's feet had hit the road.
He went back to Matthew's truck and got one of the chainsaws out of the bed.
Matthew came up beside him and hefted one out for himself.
Seph looked at Matthew. "Let's get to it," he said, starting the chainsaw.
Chainsaws echoed through the woods as the two men cut the log into manageable peices. They hauled and grunted and sweated until they got the log cleared from under the truck and stacked it along side the road.
Seph took his handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the stinging sweat out of his eyes. Matthew was huffing and puffing. Seph didn't like the color in the old man's face.
"Why don't you go on home now, Matthew? I can take it from here," Seph said, shoving his handkerchief back in his pocket. He shoved his hat back down on his head. He had to get rid of Matthew.
"Nah, I can help ya get it started," Matthew said. His face was just a little blotchy now.
"No. You go on. I'll stop by later," Seph moved to the back of his truck and ducked over the tailgate and started rummaging around in the truck bed.
"You sure?"
"Yep. You go on now," Seph called.
"Well--all right," Matthew said.
Seph looked up over the edge of the truck bed. Matthew was heading toward his truck, chainsaw dangling from one meaty hand. He started his truck and rattled and rumbled on past Seph.
Seph watched until he disappeared around a curve, then dug his keys out of his pocket and almost ran to the front of the truck. "You'd better start, you son of a bitch," he said when he jumped in the cab. He jammed the key home and the engine fired. "Good girl," he said, patting the dashboard. He put the truck in gear and took off for the place he knew way down by the creek.
That was where he would bury the babe.
He parked the truck back the lane that led to the clearing by the creek.
He stood in the clearing, the babe in his one arm and a shovel in his other hand. He scanned the clearing, looking for a spot that the animals weren't bound to dig up. The creek babbled gibberish in front of him. Maybe, he should go up the creek a-ways. That's what he would do.
He picked his way carefully along the creek. He was getting his boots wet again but that didn't matter. He had to get the job done.
He found a spot, just up the ay from the clearing. There was an old oak tree, leaning its head out over the creek, and beside its trunk was an area about the size of a washtub that was grass covered. Perfect.
He laid the babe beside the tree.
He put the edge of the shovel in the spot that he thought would be the softest ground, rested his foot on the shovel edge and pushed.
The shovel bit into the ground.
***
Anna jerked awake with the feeling that someone had just stabbed her in the chest.
She looked around the disheveled shack.
Something was wrong. She felt it.
Something was very wrong.
***
Seph lifted the last shovel full of dirt out of the hole and leaned against the handle just long enough to get his breath.
Lord, he didn't want to do this, but there was no other way.
He let the shovel drop to the ground and went to fetch the babe.
***
Anna's head jerked. She looked wildly around the shack. A bony hand seemed to clutch at her.
The babe. Something had happened to Babe Rose, she just knew it.
She scrambled across the bed and slung the potato sack up onto it. She dug inside, pulling out the scrying mirror.
She calmed herself as best she could and stared into the blackness of the glass.
***
Seph had wrapped the babe as tight as he could and made sure that its tiny face was covered before he laid it in the lonely grave.
Seph felt a chill run up his spine. He shook it off, sunk the shovel into the freshly turned earth and lifted up a mound. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
He dumped the shovel full of earth down onto the body of the babe. The dirt made pattering sounds as it struck her, reminding Seph of rain. He started shoveling faster.
The woods around him grew deadly still.
***
Anna saw an image start to come up out of the blackness of the mirror. She squinted, trying to make it clearer, trying to concentrate.
It was a creek, she could tell that, and there was someone at the edge of it, bending over.
Anna's heart turned to ice.
It was Seph. He was smoothing out lumpy, freshly dug dirt over a tiny mound. She watched in the scrying mirror as he pulled large, smooth rocks from the creek and placed them on top of the mound.
Her anger rose from the base of what was left of her soul.
"Nooo!" she wailed, her anguish reverberating off the walls of the shack.
Hot tears stung her eyes and ran down her cheeks to drop off her chin.
"Seph Mayhew, may your family be cursed. I shall bring about their deaths, one by one, as you watch yours wither and die by the way. How dare you keep your name from my child and bury her like some dead animal!"
Anna waved her hand over the mirror where she saw Seph picking up the shovel and getting ready to leave.
"Let my anger fuel my vengeance. This body shall not rest 'til my bidding be done and your blood destroyed." She bit into her hand, drawing blood, but not feeling any pain. She held the dripping hand over the image in the mirror.
Blood splatted onto the black glass. It sizzled, boiling up, obliterating the image of Seph.
"So let it begin," Anna said.
PART II
THE AFFLICTION
Chapter Seven
James spent most of the morning searching the barn loft.
He had seen his father leave an hour after he had come in the house. He still had waited another half hour to make sure that he wouldn't come back. When James had walked through the kitchen on his way out, his mother was doing up the breakfast dishes. He stopped. "You okay, Mom?"
Chloe sniffled. "Yes. Do you want something to eat?" She turned around, drying her hands on a towel. James didn't like the way her eyes looked.
James put his arm around her shoulders. "No. That's okay." He gave her a squeeze. "I'm going out to the barn for a while. Mess around a little."
"All right, but if you get hungry, you let me know." Chloe turned back to her dishwater.
Now, he was up in the loft wondering why the water trough was up here. His father must have hid something in it. But what?
Whatever it was, it was gone now and the tarp that had covered it lay in a rumpled heap beside it.
What could his father have been up to? James was sure that he had done more than drink last night. And where was the truck? Matthew had come and picked his father up this morning. His father had loaded his toolbox and chainsaw into Matthew's truck, then they had left.
It must be past noon, now. James stomach was feeling awfully empty after not having breakfast.
He heard the truck pull in the drive. He scooted across the loft and looked through a crack in the siding.
His father got out of the truck and headed for the house. James didn't have a good view of the front of the truck from up here. He couldn't tell whether it had been wrecked or not.
James climbed down the ladder to check.
***
Anna watched from her log perch at the edge of the woods across from the Mayhew farm.
She had made it here long before Seph had driven back into his own driveway. She had raced through the woods to Seph's house, not knowing how long it would take him to get home from the l
onely spot that he had buried Babe Rose. She had watched him bury her in the scrying mirror, but she couldn't place the exact spot that she was seeing. So, she had run all the way here, to Seph's house. She had things to do before he got home. She had been busy.
Now, she sat watching, her potato sack at her feet, as Seph started for the side door of his house.
She had left something there for him. Something that Seph wouldn't know the meaning of until it was too late.
***
Seph crunched across the gravel in the driveway. All he wanted to do was grab something to eat and take a hot bath. Maybe he could make up to Chloe a little bit after his bath. To hell with the chores. The boys could take care of them for today. Yeah, that's what he'd do. Take a hot bath, shave, put on some cologne and make up with Chloe. They hadn't wrestled on the bed in the afternoon for ages. It was about time that they got back to the way that they used to be.
He went up the steps and opened the screen door. When he opened the wooden door, something fell into the house, landing on the kitchen floor. Seph almost tripped over it. "Those boys," he muttered, reaching down to pick up the axe that lay at his feet. They must have leaned it in between the screen door and the inner door. Lord, it could have cut off somebody's foot, let alone gouge the kitchen floor. Seph searched the kitchen floor for damage and found none. He took the axe and leaned it against the kitchen wall by the door, making sure that the head rested on the floor. He made a point to remember to find out which one of those boys had left it in between the doors. Right now, he had other things in mind and he didn't want to spoil his mood by yelling at the kids. Besides, after this morning, it was best that he leave James alone for a while. Seph's own anger at being cold-cocked by the boy had cooled. Best to let James have some time on his own, sort the fight they had had this morning out in his own head. Seph didn't want to have to deck the boy.
He headed for the stairs and the bathroom. He'd take care of the axe later.
***
"James."
James turned toward the house. He was hunkered down in front of the truck, inspecting the front bumper. Funny, he thought someone had called his name. No one was in sight. He turned back to the truck, blaming it on lack of sleep, and ran his hand along the chrome again, feeling for dents.