Roxi's Mountain

Boots laced and tied; ignition is turned to where the motor comes to life. Headlamps on, his first stop is across the street from the Cadbury apartments. A cup of coffee close by, pressed between lips is a lit cigarette. Checking his watch, he’s got a handful of minutes left to himself. He thinks about Jane, the good parts anyway. Having another drag, sees Vincent walking across the street towards him. Poking his head out, Benny says, “Morning.” Stopping just short of his longtime friend, Vincent peers at his worn boots and lingering over the cost of new ones, he looks up at Benny and asks, “How are you doing?”

“Smoking a lot if that tells you anything.”

“That’s not good.”

“Yeah, I know.” Flicking the ash away, Benny asks, “You ready?”

“Pretty much.” Looking over his shoulder at the apartment complex he calls home, Vincent walks around the front of the rig which gives Benny time to have one more puff before snubbing out his smoke.

With Vincent seated and locked in, Benny checks the side mirror before pulling away from the curb. The sky is dark, but cloudless. It has been days since it rained and feeling how dry the air is, Benny makes a left on Maple. Keeping the rig moving towards the outskirts of town, up ahead and dark against the deep blue background is Roxi’s mountain. Back when he was twelve, mom showed him a photograph of a man smiling at the camera. This is your father. He was part of the pickaxe crew that was sent ahead to clear a path around Roxi’s mountain. A mile in, a landslide took him from us. Anyway, you keep good care of that. He bought a frame with his pop bottle money and put the photograph of dad on the shelf by his bed. So many nights did he lie awake wondering what dad was like. If he would be proud of him. Then one summer day, Uncle Red showed up. It felt good that a man was around to teach him stuff. A month after, Vincent and his family moved in next door. His age, they were inseparable. Hanging a right onto Windsor Drive, sees that Vincent has his eyes closed.

Tired himself, what comes to mind is Freddy walking inside his office only to say that the cops were here. Routine questioning had him downtown where a plainclothes detective showed him the surveillance video of Jane shopping on the baking isle when miss Purdy comes into the picture. The two embrace, and after they separate, Jane disappears. In disbelief of what he saw on that monitor, all he got in return was promises of the video sent to a special crimes’ unit. Until then, he was free to go. After being shown out, he called Vincent.

“It’s on all of the networks. Oh yeah, this came for you.” Handwritten on the front of the envelope is his name. “Go on, open it.”

He did, and there for him and Vincent to read are the words, “If you want to save Jane, be at the barricade at the end of Cranberry Road at sunrise.” Looking over, Vincent said to him, “I’m going with, and don’t give me any crap.”

After being dropped off, he got into his rig and drove home. What hits the hardest is seeing what is missing from the driveway. Impound is what he was told, and after walking through the empty house, stuck on the refrigerator door is Jane’s grocery list. He stared at it for a good long time before opening the fridge door. Grabbing a beer, found himself out on the back deck until sleep dragged him to bed. Checking on Vincent, there is a thread of saliva hanging off his lip. “Vincent, wake up. Vincent.”

Groggily Vincent rolls his head upright, “I need some air. Pull over for a minute.”

Once stopped, there goes Vincent. Cigarette lit, Benny gets out too. Looking at the tops of trees under a predawn sky, Benny has another drag and after blowing out the smoke, looks over to Vincent who has his hands planted on the hood of the rig. He should ask him what is wrong but holds off. Having yet another drag, Benny looks at Roxi’s mountain. Uncle Red says the mountain is cursed. That dad would still be here if they would have listened. But they didn’t, did they. Easing his mind by staring at the tendrils rising up from the red-hot tip of the cigarette, has another drag before he says to Vincent, “We should go.”

“You done smoking?”

“I am now.”

Behind the wheel, and after checking his watch, Benny shifts the rig into gear. Back in town, locomotive number nine is rolling to a stop at the Rosewood depot. Stepping out onto the platform, two men walk over to the usher unlocking the luggage compartment.

Needing a ride at 4:23 in the morning, O’Malley calls for cab service and after speaking quietly into the headset, follows up by speaking to a staff member employed at the Evergreen Inn. Conversation ended, O’Malley says to Lewis, “Cab is on its way, and I got us separate rooms at the Evergreen hotel.”

“Roger that. First stop is the Sherriff’s department.” Cab pulling up, soon after both are climbing cement steps up the glass door. Pressing the button activating the intercom system, a tinny voice squawks, “Sherriff’s department.” Camera pointed right at them, Lewis says, “I’m Lewis, and this is O’Malley. We’re here to see Sheriff Taylor.”

“One moment, please.” Seconds turn into minutes, and then, “I’ll buzz you in.”

On the other side of the door is a policeman. “Show me some identification.” Wallets out and license handed over one at a time, the policeman says to them, “Stay to the center.” At the end of the hallway is an open door.

He is mean looking. Sour in sitting behind that desk. With nothing to bask in, comes his sharp tone. “Heard about you.” There is no love felt in the man’s words. “Good. That saves us from going through formalities.” Gruff and to the point, the sheriff puts his elbows on the desktop. “Folks around here are afraid, and they got good reason to be. What’s worse is now I got weirdoes coming and going. Ghost seekers, they call themselves. Paranormal junkies. And now here you are. What’s out there that none of us can see except you?”

Brought up to never to lie, Lewis tells the sheriff, “I just got here, so, I don’t know.” It takes a minute for the sheriff says, “Alright then. Go on now, I got a pile of paperwork to do.”

 

Once out on the street, Lewis says, “I think we should pay miss Purdy a visit.” O’Malley calls for a ride, and within minutes, the two board a cab. “Where to?”

“420 Cranberry Road.”

“Oh. Hold on. I got to call this in.” Phone in hand, fingers start tapping out numbers. “Yeah, I got two wanting me to drive them out to miss Purdy’s.” Eyes dart to the rearview mirror, “I can take you as far as the mailbox. The rest of the way is on you.”

“Why is that?”

“Bossman didn’t say. So, what’s it going to be?”

“Take us there. And this is for your troubles.”

Two crisp bills is all it takes, and once they are beyond the signal lights and all of the four way stops, eventually the cab turns onto Cranberry Road. Of the few houses there are, most, if not all have wood split and stacked close by. Seeing this brings on having a woven blanket wrapped around shoulders while wiping away the fog from the window glass. Of reaching for that book on the shelf before cozying up in that easy chair next to a lit potbellied stove. Casually giving Lewis a glance before looking ahead through the windshield, the cab driver flicks his eyes to the rearview. “Another mile to go.” “Alright. Thanks again for running us out here.” “If it was on me, I’d take you on in.” Eyes unwavering in the rearview mirror, O’Malley sees the rage hidden behind thin walls. “It’s okay. We’ll manage.” After saying this, O’Malley gives Lewis another glance and plain to see is that she’s talking to him. What she is saying is what he wants to know and as the cab begins to slow, looking to where they are at, there is no missing the oversized mailbox stenciled with the numbers, 420.

Rolling to a stop this side of the mailbox, the tab is quietly taken care of. During the transaction, Lewis steps out of the cab. “He’s in a hurry. Are we good?” “Yes sir.” “Have a good day.”

Done watching the cab driver make a three point turn, both turn away and start walking up the driveway lined with ancient trees showing off their massive roots looping out of the dirt like a dragon’s tail. Above them, a bird is circling high above the treetops. “Must be something dead out there.” “Yeah, I was thinking that too.” Further along on their walk, O’Malley checks on the whereabouts of the bird circling overhead only to see that the bird is nowhere in sight. Dining out tonight, to begin the meal, juicy eyeballs are pecked clean from eye sockets that leads to a mouthful of squirming maggots clinging to a hunk of meat that is quickly swallowed. It is just the way nature works and knowing he needs to be grateful, up ahead is a massive log house. “Looks like a resort.” “Let’s go see if anybody is at home.” Up the staircase and walking over to where the two standing in front of the main door, Lewis knocks.

Answering, is a twenty something year old. O’Malley starts to say who they are but is silenced as she puts a finger to her lips. After making sure the two of them understand that it is quiet time, the young lady beckons them inside before quietly closing the door. Led down a hallway made out of planks of sawed timber, O’Malley recalls the last time he went camping. Of him gathering feathers that were eventually tied to white pine whittled into arrows. Wishing he had that full quill and bow, his headset starts acting up. Run systems check. New device found. Uninstall hardware. Unable to access. Goodbye. S**t. Taking the headset off, hands it to Lewis who gives him a stunned look before handing the headset back. They told him he was the first to undergo this kind of integration. He and his new self talked about things. Said it was part of him now, and that it would never go away. Until now. Keeping his eyes on the twenty something year old, clear to see is that she is heading straight towards a massive door encased in river stone. On her approach to, the massive door arcs open on heavy hinges. Following after, once over the threshold, there are hundreds, if not thousands of rose bushes. The path walked is covered in fallen rose petals and looking to, what comes into view is a gazebo. Eight steps up to the deck, the twenty-something year old walks over to the railing. Walking up to either side of her, the twenty something year old says, “Within this space, he cannot hear us. A gift from Mother.” What said carries a heaviness that has Lewis asking, “Who’s he, and who are you?” 

“He is an evil wizard who wants Mother’s hand in marriage. And I am her child who will never call him Father.” A moment passes. “Come, let us sit.”

In the middle of the gazebo is a firepit surrounded by a three-piece concrete bench. “Please,” she says. Once seated, the twenty something year old says to them, “This too is allowed for it brings misery to my soul.” That said, the twenty something year old pulls out a small coin purse and after the clasp is undone, a powdery substance is poured randomly over the bed of lava stone. At first, nothing happens. But that changes when thousands of blue particles take to the sky. Oddly looking like miniature fireflies, the particles form a giant circle. Around and around goes the aerial display to where attention is drawn to the inner circle where row after row of armored men are seen on horseback. A horn is being blown as four dismount. Daggers and swords within reach, and with heavy shields upon their backs, once the last two of the horsemen are out of sight, the particles dive upon the rocks below. 

Looking to Lewis, and then to O’Malley, the twenty something year old says quietly, “Those four horsemen were my guardians since birth. I begged them not to go but loyalty had Clarence saying they must. It pained me to hear this, and with eyes full of tears did I ran to mother who said to me. Brave you must be. Once said, Mother fades away.  And no sooner is Mother gone, the wizard shows himself to me. A short fellow, maybe waist high in cloak and pointy hat, it is his yellow eyes streaked with red vines that held me in place listening to him saying that four shall go two at a time. Three worlds. The dark forest where within is a brass key. Once in hand, the spell is broken. He demanded that I repeat what he said to me. So, I did. Four shall go two at a time. Three worlds. The dark forest. A brass key. Once in hand the spell is broken. Once said, everything fades away. The next thing I know is me waking up here. On the table beside me is a book containing the bloodline of Father’s Kingsmen. That for every century hereafter, four shall enter the first of three worlds. To the dark forest they must reach. Find the brass key, and once in hand, all of this will be over.  Many have tried, and all have failed. And, as it stands, I am down to the last four names on the list.” Drifting from one face to the other, she says with chin held high, “Kingmen you are. The last of the last of your kind.” Running through O’Malley’s head is that four will go two at a time on their quest to find a brass key. Three worlds before the dark forest stand between them and keeping in mind that many have tried and all have failed, O’Malley looks towards Lewis who is asking the twenty something year old, “How does Jane fit into this?”

 

With head held high, the twenty something year old says to Lewis, “She will be used to lure Benny to his death.” Keeping her eyes locked on his, the twenty something year old continues, “The three of you need to stop this from happening.” Lewis hears her walking up to where she is looking out through his eyes, “This one needs to get home. How about we do that?”

“How come you never mentioned I was a Kingsman?”

“What and ruin the surprise.” Hearing her walk away and now charged with newfound energy, Lewis asks the twenty-something year old, “Where are the other two?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Out comes her coin purse and after clasp undone, a pinch is sprinkled over the lava stone. Like before, thousands of blue particles go around and around to where within the inner circle appears a burly man smoking a cigarette while off a ways is another giant of a man. Wanting to know the intimate details of each, O’Malley wills his headset to come alive and close to reaching the point of giving up, something within him clicks. Flooding in is all of the white coats hovering around him, the funny-looking one telling him of the improvements made. That he will feel different for a while and not to worry as this will go away soon. Fixated on the blue particles going around and around, O’Malley begins to count each one.

 

Noticing a strange look on O’Malley face, Lewis pays attention to the twenty something year old telling him, “The two are waiting on your arrival.”

“How do we get to them?”

“I will show you.” That said, with a snap of her thumb and forefinger, the blue particles plummet to the lave stone that has O’Malley saying, “Twenty-three thousand and five is how many I counted before you snapped your fingers.” Her blank stare has O’Malley adding, “Guess that doesn’t matter.”

Smiling at O’Malley, she turns to Lewis, “If you two will follow me.”

 

 

“There’s her mailbox,” mentions Vincent. Benny sees it too. “I hear she turns a hundred today.” “Grady said something about a surprise birthday party being held at Gilmore’s. Open bar, catered food, the whole nine which has me thinking of going. You should go too. Get your mind off things.” The thought of wasting his time weighs heavy then. So heavy that his foot backs off the accelerator, his grip on the steering wheel not so tight as the strong possibility of never seeing Jane again settles in. Staring through the windshield, it is the letter telling him what needs to be done that gives him hope. Glancing Vincent’s way, Benny tells him, “Let’s see how the morning turns out first.”

Back to staring through the windshield, the paved road is coming to an end that has Benny gearing down.

Where there was once a thick layer of gravel, ruts and potholes make up the dirt road. Off in the distance is Roxi’s mountain “You ever come out this way before,” asks Vincent.

Benny nods yes, “I did one time. Got drunk while me and the mountain had a talk. Had one hell of a headache the next day. How about you?”

“Never had a reason to. That is until now.”

“Speaking of, we’re about there.”

 

Driving up to the barricade needing a coat of fresh paint, a mile beyond the barricade and under tons of rock and debris, is dad and the rest of the pickaxe crew. Left with a photograph, Benny is not sure how he feels about being so close. Troubled, he parks the rig and gets out. Cigarette between lips, holds off from lighting the tip as he and Vincent walk towards the barricade. Looking Vincent’s way, Benny says to him, “Sun’s about to heat up the sky.”

Looking east, Vincent says, “It’s supposed to be a hot one today.”

Cigarette lit, Benny pictures Uncle Red on the front porch with a lit chesterfield and a bottle of Pat’s. Note read, Benny wonders if he will come looking for him. Shifting his weight, Benny stares at Roxi’s mountain looking tall and menacing. Thinking to that day when he drove out here, attention falls on the tendrils rising from the tip of the cigarette. Ever since Jane disappeared, half a pack has turned into a full one real quick. Vincent don’t like it. Neither does Uncle Red and if mom was still alive, he would be getting an earful. Shifting his weight, Benny stares at the ridgeline and then to his wristwatch. Minutes away is the forecasted sunrise. Another puff followed by another has the cherry fiery red. Slow down, he tells himself. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen. Looking to, Vincent is pacing back and forth. “Anytime now,” he says to him. Walking over to Benny, the two cast their attention on the ridgeline. Above, the stars have long melted away, the moon on its way out. The forest is quiet, the air, still. A quick glance has Benny seeing the second hand sweeping away the seconds when Vincent grabs his arm, “You see that?”

Six feet away is a crystal blue sphere hovering in midair. The size of a marble, Vincent strains to see if it is attached to a thin wire and seeing none, says to Benny, “I don’t like this.” Ignoring Vincent, the urge to light up a cigarette is overwhelming. And as his hand drifts to his breast pocket, the blue sphere begins to move. Vincent steps back, Benny staying put until he feels Vincent’s hand on his shoulder. Shrugging his hand away, the blue marble is picking up speed. He can feel Vincent next to him and unwilling to tear his eyes away, an intense light bursts forth. Hands shielding eyes, the bright light suddenly disappears. There standing in front of Benny and Vincent are two men. The one on the right is wearing some electronic gizmo on his head, the other saying, “Hello, I’m Lewis. This is O’Malley. We’re here to help you save Jane.”

“Where is she?”

Lewis tells Benny, “Trapped in another world. To save her, we need to find a brass key. In order to do that, up this road is a cave that will take us to where we need to go.”

 

Feeling like he is being fed a line of bullshit, what pulls is that the man sounds like he’s telling the truth. Storming in is how the two of them got here that couples together with Jane disappearing in thin air. The desire for a cigarette is strong as Benny turns to look at the road. Cursed it is, his own father lost to it. Uncle Red made him promise to never go out here no matter how much he wanted to. And here he is breaking that promise.  Looking at Vincent, his longtime friend shrugs his shoulders. Turning his eyes on the two standing before them, Benny asks, “How do you know this?”

Taught never to lie, Lewis tells Benny, “Princess Rose told us. She also said that the four of us must enter the cave two at a time. What happens after that, we don’t know.”

 

All about saving Jane, Benny tells the man, “Mister, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

 

“Alright then. Let’s go find us a cave.”

 

The sun is beginning to heat up the already dry air, the breeze soft and barely noticeable. On either side are giant evergreen trees nestled in fern and brier while directly ahead is Roxi’s mountain. Since he was a kid, he has been told that it is cursed. That bad things happen, unexplainable things. For now, it looks dull and uninterested that the four of them are hiking on this piece of s**t road towards it. Thinking this a good thing, he is suddenly overcome with a feeling of being watched. Slowing to standstill in having a look around, O’Malley walks over to him, “You alright?”

“Felt like I was being watched is all.” O’Malley stares up to the sky, “Could be princess Rose checking on us. Could be the wizard, too.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe in all of that fairytale stuff.”

O’Malley smiles, “We’re getting behind.”

Vincent looks around one last time and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, joins O’Malley in catching up with Benny and Lewis.

 

 

 

 

Making good progress on the straightaway, the road takes a sharp left. Walking out of the curve, what comes in view is a massive pile of rock and dirt that freezes Benny for a split second. Flooding in is mom, and the life she endured without dad. Face to face with the monster who made their lives miserable, hears Vincent say, “This is about as close as we can get. So, where’s this cave you two are talking about?”

 

O’Malley glances at Lewis before saying, “It’s right in front of you.”

 

Benny and Vincent turn at the same time. “That wasn’t there a minute ago,” says Vincent.

 

“Yeah, that’s because it shows up every hundred years. Keep in mind, two at a time. I’ll go with you, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Are we going first?”

 

“Why not. Lewis, Benny, we’ll see you on the other side. Vincent, are you ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

 

Finding themselves standing on a ledge high above a graveyard of bleached skulls and broken bones, many have tried and all have failed looms in O’Malley’s mind. Walking over to the edge, he sees a staircase of pavers absent any handrails. Stepping away from the edge, O’Malley tells the three, “Keep the outside of your boots pressed to the walls and lean forward. Take your time, there’s no rush.” That said, O’Malley descends the steep staircase. Lewis steps up but Benny holds him back, “I’ll go next. Vincent, follow me.”

She comes forward then, “Follow the blackbird for it knows the way through this world.” She walks away, Lewis dropping his feet on the first paver.