Dark Mountain

  “Do you know how to get down off an elephant?” he asked.

  “No, how?”

  “You don’t. You get down off a duck.”

  Karen smiled and shook her head slightly.

  Then she turned away. He could no longer see her face. Sitting back, he stared at her. The rim of an ear showed through her hair. He wished she would look around again, but first he would have to think of another joke.

  He’d only seen Karen once before today. Usually, his father drove off to meet her. But last Saturday, she came over for barbecued ribs. She’d worn white shorts and a loose shirt of shiny red with green and white flowers, and she’d looked beautiful. When Dad introduced him, she shook his hand and said, “Very nice to meet you, Benny.”

  She had a pale scar curved like a horse shoe on her forearm. He’d wanted to ask her about it, but didn’t have the guts.

  That day was overcast, so nobody went into the pool and he didn’t get to see her in a swimsuit. She sat across the table from him at dinner. It wasn’t dark yet, but his father had lit candles. The light from the flames made her hair shine like gold. He thought she was very nice. Julie acted creepy, though. After dinner, Tanya took him and Julie to a movie. By the time they got home, Karen was gone. Dad said she would be coming along on the camping trip, and Julie went crazy. “What do we need her along for? I don’t even like her! I don’t want to go if she’s going.” Dad, looking unhappy, asked why she didn’t like Karen. “Oh, never mind!” she snapped.

  “I think she’s nice,” Benny had said.

  “So do I,” Dad told him.

  Sometimes, Julie could be a real jerk.

  “Anyone hungry?” Dad asked.

  “Me!” Benny said.

  Julie shrugged and kept on reading her book.

  “Julie?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I could use a bite,” Karen said, looking toward Dad. Benny saw the side of her face for a moment before she turned forward again. He sighed. Gosh, she was beautiful.

  “Well,” Dad said. “We’ll be at Gorman in a few minutes. We’ll stop there and have some breakfast.”

  “Look out there,” Flash said, keeping his voice calm but pressing a hand to the dashboard as a semi swung into their lane. It was moving up the steep grade toward Tejon Pass at half their speed. They were closing in fast.

  Nick slipped over one lane to the left, and sped past the truck.

  “Stupid fucking bastard,” Flash muttered. He lowered his hand from the dash. Nick was looking nervous. “You all right?”

  The boy nodded, and licked his lips.

  “That…He had no business coming over.” Flash took a few deep breaths, and slipped a White Owl from his shirt pocket. His fingers trembled as he tore open the cellophane wrapper. He plugged the cigar into his mouth and lit it, then cranked open his window to let the smoke stream out.

  “I tell you, Nick, Vietnam was safer than these freeways. Goddamn truckers. Run you down as soon as look at you. Best thing to do is stay out of their way.”

  Nick glanced at him. The boy still looked shaky. “Too bad this isn’t an F-8,” Nick said. “We could blow them off the road.”

  “Thataboy. I tell you, we did our share of that, Scott and me. Nailed whole convoys along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Blasted the shit out of ’em.”

  “Arnold,” Alice complained from the backseat. She’d heard that one. He glanced around. The twins were asleep, Rose slumped against the door with Heather leaning against her.

  “I’ll keep it down,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Keep it clean.”

  He tapped off a length of ash, and took a long draw on his cigar. Smoke swirled around his face. Smoke filled the cockpit. “Blue Leader, this is Flash. Caught a hot one.”

  He shook his head sharply, trying to dislodge the memory as his heart began to thunder and his stomach twisted into an icy coil. Oh, Christ!

  The station wagon nosed downward, picking up speed.

  “Take it slow,” he warned.

  Nick looked at him and frowned. “Are you okay, Dad?”

  “Sure. Fine.” He wiped the sweat from his face. He started remembering again. “Well well well,” he said quickly to block off the thoughts. “We’re over the hump now. The old buggy made it over the Grapevine once again. Gonna be hot as blue blazes in the valley. Good thing we’ve got our air-conditioning.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I offered ’em down, Ettie.”

  She gazed at the naked bodies of the young man and woman stretched out side by side in front of the tent. The man was facedown, a terrible wound across the back of his neck. The woman, on her back, was bruised and torn. Ettie saw bite marks on her mouth and chin, on her shoulders and breasts. The left nipple was missing entirely.

  “I offered him with a hatchet,” Merle said, rubbing his hands on the legs of his jeans and trying to smile. “The gal, I plain choked her.”

  “Looks like you did more than that,” Ettie muttered.

  “She was pretty.”

  “Merle, you haven’t got the sense of a toadstool.”

  Her son tugged the bill of his faded Dodgers cap down to hide his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “What’re we gonna do with you?”

  He shrugged. He toed a pine cone with his tennis shoe. “You do it,” he argued.

  “Only when He speaks to me.”

  “He spoke to me, Ettie. Honest He did. I never would’ve done it, but He asked me to.”

  “You sure you weren’t just feeling horny?”

  “No, ma’am. He spoke to me.”

  “I saw you yesterday spying on these two. I was afraid you might pull a stunt like this, but I trusted you, fool that I am. I should’ve known better.” She glared at Merle. The bill of his cap rose for a moment as he looked at her. Then it dipped down again. “What did you promise me?”

  “I know,” he mumbled. “I said I’m sorry.”

  “What did you promise me?” she repeated.

  “Not to do it again without asking.”

  “But you went ahead and did it anyway.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “This is gonna make it hot for us, Merle.”

  In the shadow of the ball cap, she saw a thin smile. “You just can’t take me anywhere.”

  “Wipe that smile off your face.”

  “It isn’t that bad, Ettie. I already looked through their stuff. They didn’t have any fire permit.”

  “So?”

  He tipped back the bill, no longer afraid of meeting Ettie’s gaze. “If they’d checked in with a ranger, they would’ve got one and said where they were going. But they didn’t. So the rangers don’t even know they’re here.”

  “Well, that’s something.”

  “Even if someone knows they’re gone, nobody’s gonna have the first notion where to look. We’ll just bury ’em and take their stuff to the cave, and we’ll be okay.”

  Ettie sighed, folded her arms across her bosom, and stared down at the bodies. “I’ll put out a spell to ward off searchers, just in case.”

  Merle looked doubtful. “Maybe I better.”

  “I can still conjure circles around you, boy, and don’t you forget it. I got us safe out of Fresno, no thanks to you. If you’d had the sense to fetch me what I needed—”

  “I was seen.”

  “Wouldn’t have taken you half a minute,” she said. Merle stood silent, watching as she knelt beside the man’s body. She untied a leather pouch from her belt and opened it. “Never should’ve taught you the Ways.”

  “Don’t say that, Ettie.”

  “Made us no end of trouble.” She wrapped her fingers around a lock of hair, and yanked it from the man’s scalp. She pressed the hair into the raw gorge at the back of his neck. Thick blood coated the strands. She twisted them into a string, knotted them once in the center, and poked them into her pouch. Then she lifted his hand. The fingernails were chewed to the quick. She unsheathed her knife, pressed the
blade to the cuticle of his index finger, and removed the entire nail. She dropped it into her pouch and stepped over to the woman.

  Squatting beside the body, she ripped out a ringlet of hair. She squeezed the breast to force more blood to the surface, and dabbed the hair in it. She tied the sticky cord into a knot. She flicked it into her pouch, then picked up a hand. The plum fingernail polish was chipped. One nail was broken, but the rest were long and neatly rounded. She pared off the tips of four, catching them in her palm, and brushed them into her bag.

  “Now, that’s all there is to it,” she said, looking up at Merle. “Wouldn’t have taken you half a minute, and I could’ve laid down a dandy spell and we’d still be in Fresno today. You didn’t even have to take blood. If you’d just had the good sense to bring me hair and nails, I’d have had the essence to throw a cover on us.”

  “I like it here fine,” he mumbled.

  “Well, I don’t.” Her knees crackled as she straightened up. “I like my creature comforts, Merle. I like a good meal and a cold beer and nice clothes and a soft bed.”

  “And men,” he added, showing a sliver of a smile.

  “That’s the truth.” She pushed her knife into its sheath at the side of her dress, and started tying the pouch to her belt. “You deprived me of all that ’cause you were horny and careless.”

  “I told you, Ettie. He spoke to me.”

  She didn’t believe him. “Don’t go laying off your blame, Merle. Now, you take care of the burying and bring up their things to the cave. I’ll come along and check before sundown, and I want to see this place looking like nobody was ever here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And if you ever offer down again without my say-so, you’ll be the sorriest young man that ever walked on two legs.”

  He looked down at his feet. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Leaving him there, Ettie made her way along the rock-bound shore. At the narrow, southern tip of the lake where its feeder stream splashed down from Upper Mesquite, she crouched and cupped water to her mouth. Even after spending a month up here, she still couldn’t get over the cold, fresh taste of it. Hard to believe that water could be so fine. She knew she would miss it in September, when they had to leave. Wouldn’t miss anything else, though: not the heat steaming off the rocks, or the mosquitoes, or the wind that tore around at night so loud it often kept her awake, or the cold when the sun went down, or the hard ground she slept on. She’d be glad to leave all that behind. Not the water, though.

  She unsnapped the canvas bag of her canteen, and pulled out the aluminum bottle. After twisting off its cap, she upended it. The old water burbled out. She held the empty canteen under a lip of mossy rock, gripping it tightly as fresh water washed over her hand. When the bottle overflowed, she capped it, then slipped it back into the case. It felt heavy and good against her hip as she stood up.

  Staying close to the stream, she climbed up pale, broken slabs of granite to the ridge between the two lakes. She turned slowly, scanning the slopes that rose high above her. Then she peered toward the trail slanting down from Carver Pass beyond the northern end of Lower Mesquite. Once every few days, backpackers hiked by. Until yesterday, when those two stayed and camped, Merle had been just fine.

  Blast Merle. Damn and shit!

  The trail was deserted now. More than likely, if anyone should show up today, it wouldn’t be till the afternoon. The pass was a hard, three-hour climb from the nearest lake to the east, so Merle should have plenty of time to take care of the mess. Besides, there was the spell.…

  Stepping onto a flat surface of rock, Ettie unbuckled her belt with all its gear. She set it at her feet and opened the buttons of her faded, shapeless dress. She pulled the dress up over her head. Except for her heavy socks and boots, she was naked. She felt the sun on her skin, the caress of soft breezes. The air smelled hot. It smelled of scorched pine needles, of baking rock.

  Bending over, she spread her dress across the granite. Then she sat on it. Through the thin layers of fabric, the rock felt hard and rough. The heat seeped through, stinging her buttocks as she removed her boots and damp socks.

  When they were off, she untied the leather pouch from her belt. She crossed her legs and sat upright, with her back arched, her head straight forward. With both hands, she clasped the pouch to her breastbone.

  “Into darkness,” she whispered, “I commit the essence of my foes. As their essence is obscured, so let all traces of their presence be banished from this canyon, that those who seek them might find no cause to trespass here.”

  Lowering her head, she opened the drawstrings of the pouch. She pulled out a bloody lock of hair and placed it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, working it into a sodden clump, and swallowed it. She did the same with the second coil of hair. She washed them down with water from her canteen. Then she dumped the fingernails onto her palm, raised them to her lips, and ate them. She drank some more water.

  The rock was rough and hot through her dress. The hair felt thick and heavy in her stomach.

  But she was done.

  She smiled. She raised the canteen and poured its cold water over her head. It streamed down her face, her shoulders. It rolled down her back. It spilled over her breasts, dripped from her nipples, ran down her belly and sides. Moving the canteen, she let the water fall onto her crossed legs, her groin. She sighed at its icy touch.

  Too soon the canteen was empty.

  She stared at the glinting blue of Upper Mesquite. Why not? She deserved a treat. Leaving everything, she skipped over the searing rocks to the shore. She waded in, shivering and gasping, and hesitated only a moment before plunging headlong.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They stopped at a gas station in Fresno. Rolling down his window, Julie’s father asked the teenaged attendant to “fill her up with super unleaded and check under the hood.”

  With the window open, heat rushed into the car. Julie fanned her face with her book.

  “Guess I’ll make a pit stop,” Karen said.

  “Me, too,” said Benny.

  They both climbed out.

  “Julie?” Dad asked.

  “I’ll wait till they’re back.” She watched them walk through the glaring sunlight toward the side of the station. Benny was smiling up at the woman, grinning and talking.

  “Benny seems to really like Karen,” Dad said.

  “I noticed.” The two disappeared around a corner of the garage.

  “I think you’d like her, too, if you gave her half a chance.”

  “What have I done?” Julie blurted.

  “It’s your attitude.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m not crazy about her. What am I supposed to do, worship the ground she walks on?”

  “There’s no call for sarcasm.”

  “I didn’t ask her to come with us.”

  “Well, I did, and I’d appreciate it if you’d get your act together. You’ve been miserable all morning.”

  “I am miserable.” Her throat tightened. She suddenly felt as if she might start blubbering.

  Dad looked around at her. “What’s the matter, honey?” he asked in a gentle voice.

  “Nothing,” she mumbled.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t see why I even had to come.” Tears filled her eyes. She stared out the window at the gas pumps. “I should’ve stayed home with Tanya. You don’t want me here anyway.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “No you don’t. You’ve got Karen. You don’t need Benny and me.”

  “Look, if I’d wanted to be alone with Karen, would I have insisted you come with us? I could’ve left you home easily enough, but I wanted you and Benny along. Hell, it wouldn’t be half as much fun without you two. Now come on, buck up, old girl. Let’s see a smile.”

  Julie wiped her eyes, but didn’t try to smile.

  “Come on.”

  The squeak of a squeegee drew her eyes to the young attendant. He was grinning down at h
er through the passenger window as he scraped away the dirty water.

  “Here they come,” Dad told her. “Why don’t you go on ahead?”

  With a nod, she opened her door. She slid out and stepped toward the rear of the car.

  “It’s around back,” Karen said as they passed.

  “Thanks.” Walking away, she glanced over her shoulder. The boy at the windshield met her eyes. She smiled at him, and continued on her way.

  The heat brought sweat to her forehead. She wondered if the boy was watching, admiring the way she looked in her T-shirt and tight white shorts.

  The restroom was shadowy and stifling. She quickly relieved herself. At the sink, she splashed tepid water onto her face and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed with red from crying. Her hair was slightly mussed. She wished she’d brought her brush along. She combed her fingers through her hair and patted the swept-back sides. Her T-shirt looked loose and baggy. Opening her shorts again, she pulled it down firmly and tucked it in. She looked down at herself. The shirt was taut over her breasts, emphasizing them. The white lace of her bra was clearly visible through the stretched fabric.

  She smiled at her reflection. She winked at herself. Then she stepped out of the restroom into the glaring sunlight.

  The car was still at the pumps, but the boy was gone. She spotted him through the windows of the office. At the car, she put her hands on the sill of Karen’s open window and looked in. “Dad, could we get some Cokes or something?”

  “Yeah!” Benny said.

  “Sure. Why not?” Dad shifted his weight to reach for the wallet in his back pocket.

  “Let me,” Karen said. “My treat.”

  “No,” Dad said. “That’s—”

  “I insist.” She took a billfold from her handbag. After a moment of searching, she said, “I guess I don’t have any change,” and gave Julie a five-dollar bill. “Why don’t you pick up some chips or something, if they’ve got ’em?”