Cicada Song
Chapter 1
June 2004
The pianist was obviously talented, but the man wandering into the bar had not come for the music. No, he was simply lost and searching for directions. He scanned the pub and noted an air of familiarity among the crowd, a sign they came here often; but, unlike most places with alcohol, no one appeared drunk or desperate. There was a scent of beer but it wasn’t overwhelming, and there wasn’t a whiff of cigarette smoke to be found.
He made his way toward the bar where a middle-aged man, humorously sporting mutton chops, was drying a mug.
“I’m looking for a motel. Can you help me out?”
“I figured,” the bartender replied. “Most people passin’ through come lookin’ for Annie’s place. The drive’s hidden by trees a few minutes up the road there, easy to miss, but you’ll see it if you keep an eye open. There’s also a bed and breakfast over on Sycamore St. that’s pretty good. Melba Acres makes the best breakfast in town”
“Thank you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ellis,” the man answered with a smile. “Ellis Barnes, sir.”
“Then hello, Ellis Barnes. Call me Percy. Anderson’s a small town, a real family type of livin’ ‘round here. You come for the festival? We don’t get much in the way of visitors, otherwise.”
This was Ellis’ first visit to Anderson, and there certainly wasn’t much to it. He saw quite a few homes but only one bank, two churches, and a single school building without any specification toward what grades it contained. He couldn’t see much else with it being dark, but he got the impression it wasn’t a very big town.
“I was invited by a lady named Beverly Campbell. We have a meeting in the morning regarding...”
“A bit young for Ms. Beverly ain’t ya’?” Percy interrupted. “What are you, twenty-four? Twenty-five?”
“Oh, twenty-seven,” Ellis said with a nervous laugh. “But no, nothing like that. I’m a writer and she asked…”
Percy laughed and patted Ellis’ arm none too gently. “Oh, I’m just messin’ with you, kid. Ms. Beverly’s a looker but she ain’t like that. Listen, we don’t get many visitors here but with the festival comin’ up this week we’ll get more than our share. Stay out of trouble and you’ll get along just fine. And as a welcoming gift, your first drink’s on me. What’ll you have?”
Ellis ordered a fruity drink, which Percy didn’t think was fit for a grown man, and made his way toward an open bar stool. He surveyed the pub as Percy prepared his drink and noticed the pianist for the first time. He was about Ellis’ age with a brown vest and what looked to be a buzzed haircut beneath a gray fedora. The man smiled as he led a choir consisting of himself and those tables nearest him, all laughing and having fun. It was enjoyable to watch, and Ellis began humming the familiar tune, hoping to share in their experience.
Then he noticed her.
Several tables from the pianist, sitting alone, was a woman most extravagant in a down home sort of way. Her hair was dark with a slight curl that fell just below her shoulders, but it was the soft contours of her face that captured his attention. He tried to be subtle, but there was just something intoxicating about this girl. He couldn’t help but stare.
“Here you go, Ellis. Welcome to Anderson.”
Ellis was startled by Percy’s abrupt arrival. Then he laughed at himself while accepting the glass and took a drink. “Thank you, Percy. If the rest of Anderson’s residents are anything like you, then I’m in for a treat.”
“Oh, every town has their bad seeds. I can point out a couple right here to be honest, but I can point out more who’ll give you the shirts off their backs. Of course, they’d be askin’ you for some gossip in return, but that’s better than wantin’ gold in my opinion.”
Ellis smiled as his eyes returned to the pretty young lady with the brunette curls. “What about that one?”
The bartender didn’t answer at first, eying her with an air of uncertainty. Then he sighed and forced a smile. “That one’s a fine young woman, a respectable girl.”
Percy hung a dried mug on a hook and took his time grabbing another. Ellis didn’t bother asking about anyone else. He finished his drink and attempted to tip the bartender, but Percy told him to keep it, not wanting to take advantage of a girly drink given in hospitality. Ellis thanked him, nonetheless, and Percy left the bar to attend a spill in the far corner of the pub.
Ellis stood and risked one final glance toward the woman but lingered when he found her eyes darting away from his. He hesitated, considering his home life, but then sighed and made his way through the tables full of patrons.
“Hello, ma’am,” he said as he reached the table. The woman looked up, and he was instantly captivated by the shade of her green eyes.
“Hello, yourself,” she said with a wide grin. “Here for the festival, I assume?”
Ellis smiled, debating how to answer this, and conceded with an enthusiastic, “I am! And you?”
“No, fortunately. I’ve been an Anderson girl most my life.”
“Is that so?”
He eyed the empty chair across from her, but the woman merely smiled and returned her attention to the pianist. After a moment, Ellis cleared his throat and asked if he could sit.
“Oh,” she said, genuinely surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, please.”
Ellis sat and listened as the music subtly flowed from an upbeat tune to one more melancholy. He couldn’t help but note the romantic tune’s perfect timing, but the woman seemed to disagree.
“I’m sorry,” she said quite abruptly, “I have to go.”
Ellis stood again, feeling quite confused, but forced a reassuring grin and offered her a hand. “Can I walk you to your car?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Another time then?”
She exited the pub in a hurry, and Ellis couldn’t help but feel as if he had missed something. He caught Percy staring at him and looked away only to find the pianist staring as well. Ellis held onto this glare, however; for while Percy’s expression was one of curiosity, the pianist seemed to have a smug satisfaction in his eye. It didn’t take long for the man to return to his piano, allowing Ellis the freedom to push in his chair and make for the door. With a friendly nod to Percy, he exited the pub while thinking about the girl. Her leaving was probably for the best anyway. He was only in Anderson for few days, and there were other responsibilities to think about. Besides, he wasn’t ready for another relationship; not with what he’d been through.
The town quieted to a whisper as Ellis, having found the motel, took time to unpack. He had already showered away the achiness of a day’s drive and was now tucking his jeans into an old dresser. Annie’s Lodge had an old fashioned feel about it, and Annie herself was a peach, but Ellis had never been fond of motels; they always seemed dirtier than places with rooms on the inside. Once finished, he lay on the bed and chastised himself for having left the pub without ordering a burger. His stomach groaned. Checking his pockets for the motel key, Ellis left the room and passed his car on a whim. Why not walk and enjoy the evening?
The stars above Anderson twinkled en masse without the city lights that Ellis was used to. Crickets chirped and a warm breeze blew through the trees, but the cicadas, which were in cluster that year, sang above the rest.
He reached the pub and was surprised to find it closed at this hour, so he continued on, hoping to find a twenty-four hour restaurant of some sort. Then something caught his ear. Drunken slurs sounded in the night; and, for the first time, Ellis noted a resemblance between this town and his own.
He turned a corner and found the man halfway down the street screaming at a squat, elderly woman half his size. Ellis sighed and cursed his luck. At home he would have left the disturbance to the police, but the police hadn’t arrived, and he’d always been a sucker for a woman in distress.
“I didn’t ask for this!” the drunk shouted as Ellis approached. The stink of alcohol and body odor emitted fro
m the man, even from a distance.
“I am sorry, Phillip, but I tried,” the elderly woman said.
“You tried?” screamed the man. “You don’t do this to me. You can’t do this to me! Who do you think you are, you old...”
“Okay, okay,” Ellis said, stepping between the two. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight. Why don’t you go home and sleep it off?”
“What—who’s this? Who are you to tell me anything? You wanna make me…”
The man’s last sentence was cut short by his own stumbling. He corrected himself and, instead of finishing what he was about to say, the man took another swig from a bottle and lurched forward, shoving Ellis. “Come on, pretty boy,” the drunk taunted. “Send me home. Home… ain’t home… but that… you know.”
Ellis composed himself, paying no mind to the man’s drunken nonsense, and motioned for the elderly woman to back away.
“I’m not picking a fight with you,” he said to the drunk, “but you’ve had too much. I can walk you home if you’d like, maybe even buy you a beer tomorrow. How’s that sound?”
The man snickered and stepped uncomfortably close to Ellis. “Buy me a—what if I just took your money now and buy my own beer? Huh? Maybe I buy you a beer. I don’t need a beer from you—not you.”
He shoved Ellis, who held out a hand and demanded that the man not touch him again. The drunken man ignored this and attempted to shove him a second time, but Ellis knocked his hands away, causing the drunk to stumble and fall on his posterior. Realizing the man was too drunk to stand, Ellis pried the bottle from his hands and poured its contents onto the ground.
“C’mon, man,” the drunk pleaded groggily. He attempted to stand but fell over again.
Ellis made certain the man was really down before turning to the elderly woman. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”
The woman sighed with a sad expression and nodded.
“Your son?” Ellis asked.
“No,” the woman answered. “His name is Phillip, and he’s an unfortunate lost cause.”
“Oh, then you should have spoken up. I was holding back for your sake.”
A black and white police cruiser turned onto the road and eased up beside them. Out stepped a serious looking, dark skinned police officer with a baton in hand. The elderly woman simply waved him off.
“I’m fine, Arthur” she said softly.
The officer looked from Ellis, to the woman, and then to the man on the ground and shook his head. “Phil again, huh? Melba, I swear, he’s going to be the death of me.”
“I kicked him out today,” Melba said. “I didn’t want to, but I caught him stealing money again. I just can’t have that.”
“Did you hit him?” the officer asked Ellis.
“No, sir.”
“Leave the boy alone,” Melba ordered, as if she were the one in charge. “He came to my aid.”
The officer relaxed and put the baton away. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Ellis Barnes, sir.”
The officer extended a hand and Ellis took it. “Arthur Harris. Thanks for looking out for Melba, here. I’ve been telling her to get rid of Phil for months now. Good to see she’s finally done it.”
Melba sighed. “Phillip’s gone through a tough time this past year but there’s just no fixing that boy. A man can’t let go if he doesn’t want to.”
“So that’s what all the yelling was about?” Arthur asked.
“That’s what it came to, yes.”
Ellis noted that Melba was no longer looking at him or Arthur, but rather, down the street. He followed her eyes but saw only houses.
Arthur looked in the same direction and shook his head. “Boy can’t leave it alone.”
Ellis wondered what this meant as Arthur helped Phil to his feet and guided him to the back of the cruiser. The officer shut him in and wiped his own brow with a handkerchief before returning. “He can sleep it off in a cell tonight and walk in the morning. Are you going to be okay, Melba?”
The squat woman dismissed this with a flippant wave toward the cruiser. “I feel like I’ve failed that boy, Arthur, but yes, I’ll be fine. Besides,” she said while looking up at Ellis, a smile forming, “I got myself a guardian angel.”
“For only a few days,” Ellis replied with a smile.
“Is that all?” Melba said with mock insult. “Just here for the festival, I suppose. Where are you staying?”
“Annie’s Lodge, up on…”
“Oh, Annie’s a good girl,” Melba interrupted, “but she’s not the cook I am. I run a little bed and breakfast just down on Sycamore. Why don’t you stay with me?”
Ellis glanced at the officer who simply rolled his eyes. “I thank you, Melba,” he said kindly, “but I’m already moved in. Maybe I’ll swing by for a bagel, though.”
Melba laughed loudly and smacked Ellis’ shoulder. “Bagels are snack food. I’ll have biscuits and gravy waiting for you in the morning. There’ll be eggs, bacon, and sausage as well, and we’ll have coffee, orange juice, tea… you name it. We have quite a few guests starting to show up for the festival, so you’ll be in good company. Half price for my guardian angel.”
Ellis accepted the offer hesitantly, but Melba didn’t seem to notice. She described Ellis and Phil’s confrontation to Arthur and was soon safely tucked away in the front seat of his police cruiser. Ellis smiled as Arthur closed the door in gentlemanly fashion—a foreign thing where Ellis came from—but then the officer stared at him and scowled.
“Melba’s a good woman. She’s been opening her home to every passerby and troubled youth that comes through here, ever since Stanley Sr. died. You seem like a good kid, so I’m not too worried. Just keep in mind that I’m partial to that lady. Her husband taught me everything I know about being sheriff, so don’t go taking advantage of her in any way. You hear?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good man.” Arthur smiled. His teeth were bright against his brown skin. “Enjoy your stay in Anderson.”
The cruiser silently departed, and Ellis’ stomach groaned. Why hadn’t he asked Arthur where he might find some food? Melba would have likely made him a nice meal but it was too late for that now. He turned to go, but then something caught his eye. A porch light from down the same street that Melba and Arthur had glanced down a moment ago had gone out, and though he only saw her for a moment, there was no mistaking the brunette woman from the pub with the amazing green eyes.