Rogue's Hollow (22 page)

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Authors: Jan Tilley

BOOK: Rogue's Hollow
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Twenty-Two

 

 

 

T
ravis religiously gathered the sap every night after school and carefully placed it in the cooler at the sugar shack. When the weekend came, he was ready to do some more cooking. Malachi stepped back and let Travis take the lead this time. He was impressed at how much information Travis had retained from the previous weekend. He jumped right in and took over while Malachi supervised the operation.

Malachi felt like a proud papa as he watched Travis stir the bubbly brew, stopping occasionally for a temperature check. When it reached the desired thickness and registered 212 degrees, it was time to remove it from the flame. As soon as it had cooled down enough, Travis began transferring it to the plastic jugs. Malachi tried to help him, but he would just nod and say, “I got it covered. It’s all good.”

It appeared that Travis had it all under control at the sugar shack so Malachi thought maybe he should head on back to the store. “I’ll go and open up the shop, just in case anyone stops by. How about if I come back around lunch time to relieve you. Does that sound okay? We can trade off.”

Travis nodded. “Sure, that’d be fine, but take your time. I’m cool here.”

Malachi felt confident as he meandered back down the trail to the mill. He took deep breaths and reveled in the sweet smell that wafted throughout the woods.

Travis really had come into his own. It made Malachi proud to think that he was partially responsible for the fine young man that he had become.

No sooner had he flipped the general store sign to ‘Open,’ there were people on the porch. Word had gotten out around the community that the syrup was in and folks were beating down the door to get some. It was another family tradition that would continue on, thanks to Travis.

Well into the afternoon, the flow of customers slowed to where Malachi felt that he could lock the door and go back to check on Travis. He grabbed a couple of cold Cokes and headed up the winding trail. He knew how hot it could get inside the shack and that Travis would be burning up. The Redbuds were popping and birds were cheerfully singing a happy song, welcoming spring. Malachi loved walking in the woods. It just did something to his disposition to be that close to nature, trekking up and down the same path that his forefathers had once walked. Heritage and tradition intertwined.

He was breathing heavily when he finally reached the ridge opening. He leaned against a large maple tree and wiped perspiration from his brow, trying to catch his breath. As he rested, he began to hear someone talking; they were having a conversation. He wondered who in the world had wandered all the way up here. In all the years he’d run this old sugar shack by himself, he’d never once had a visitor. Many times he would have loved it, but he was always alone, lugging those heavy buckets and stirring the brew with sweat beading up on his forehead.

As he creaked open the door, he saw Travis flailing his arms around having quite a discussion. He edged the door open further to see who he was talking to. There was no one there.

Travis turned around and was startled to see Malachi lurking in the doorway. He saw the perplexed look on Malachi’s face. Travis looked like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He attempted to downplay the scene and shot him a big smile. “Hey there, Malachi. Is it always this hot in here? I’ve been so bored up here that I’ve started talking to myself. I’m such a dork.”

Malachi had to admit, it was hot and boring in the shack, but in all these years he’d never taken to talking to himself. He reached inside his jacket pocket and extended a token. “Here, Travis. I brought you some cold Coke.”

Travis grabbed it and gulped it down quickly. “Thanks. That was much needed. I am so sick of drinking water and I’m boiling in here, even with the door open. I feel like I’m trapped in Hell.”

Malachi was worried about him. He was probably dehydrated and might even be suffering from heat exhaustion. “Want to take a break and step outside to cool off?”

“Yeah, that sounds amazing.”

They made their way out front and sat down on a small handmade wooden bench. Malachi reached into his other pocket and pulled out the second Coke. He handed it to Travis with a warning. “Drink this one slower, son. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

He cracked the top open and sipped this one. “Ahhh, that tastes so good. Thanks.”

Malachi looked at him intently. “You okay, Travis?”

He finished his sip and grinned. “Grand and dandy.”

“What were you talking about in there? That was quite a conversation.”

He shrugged. “Ah, I was just babbling. Thinking about my school work.” His attention was caught by a squirrel running along the top of the kiln bricks. As he watched the critter, a dark look crossed his face. “Malachi, have you ever used that thing?”

Malachi shook his head and snickered. “No, I’m not much of a brick layer, son.”

Travis looked at him intently, staring into his piercing blue eyes. “That’s not what I meant. It was never built for making bricks. You and I both know that.”

Malachi’s face went blank as he looked into his friend’s eyes. His mind raced as he wondered why Travis was asking these questions. This discussion needed to end quickly and not be drawn out.

Travis rolled the piercing around in his mouth and then asked, “What’d you do with that kid’s body, Malachi?”

He sucked in a gasping breath, looked away and let out a slow deep sigh. “What’s the point of talking about this?”

“No secrets, that’s what you told me.”

He looked into Travis eyes. “It’s not that it’s a secret. It just doesn’t need to be talked about. It’s the past and should be buried and left alone.”

Travis leaned forward, relentlessly staring at Malachi. “Was it really buried? I need to know.”

Malachi looked away, and then back at Travis. “Damn it, son. Why? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I do. I just want to know the truth. So tell me the truth, Malachi. Please.”

He rubbed his face with his stumpy finger and moaned, as though he were in pain. “Yes, I did it. I brought the body here, started a blazing fire and under the discretion of the moon, I cremated that poor young boy.”

Travis hung on his every word. “How long did it take?”

“It’s a slow process, it took many hours.”

“What’d you do with the remains?”

Malachi felt sadness creep into his heart. He didn’t want to talk about it. Just the memory of the ordeal gave him cold chills and the more he thought about it, his stomach began to churn with nervous tension. “What does it matter?”

“No secrets, right?”

“There are no secrets, but can’t I give the kid some dignity and let him rest in peace?” Malachi hung his head, disgusted by his own actions.

“I did it, I’m the one who took his life and I need to know the details of what happened.”

Shaking his head in defeat, Malachi said, “I kept the ash and put it with the rest to use on the angel plants.”

Travis glared at him. “Why?”

“To keep them alive, that’s why.”

“But I thought that you didn’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo. Do you really believe the plants must have the ash to survive?”

Malachi shook his head. “I don’t know. I tried to do without it several years ago and they grew very weak. I gave them miracle grow and fireplace ash, but nothing worked. As soon as I gave them a dose of the human ash, they began to grow and bloom again.”

“So, it’s true. There is something magic about the ash. Alexander was right.”

Malachi shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t want to take any chances. These plants have been alive much longer than I have. Who am I to say?”

Travis nodded. “So maybe it was a good thing that the kid died?”

Malachi shook his head. “No, absolutely not. Please, don’t say that, son. No, it was a horrible accident. A life was taken, and that is never a good thing.”

“Yeah, but the kid was a horse’s ass. He tried to rape that girl. Obviously, no one’s missing him too badly.”

“Travis, I can’t believe that I’m hearing this. No, it’s still wrong. His family misses him. He has a mother and father that will search for him for the rest of their lives. How can you think that it’s okay?”

Travis looked off into the woods. “Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on this one. I think the world is a better place without that scumbag. I can see how Ambrose and Marcus justified what they did up here. All those homeless bums were just a plague to society. Beggars and thieves, what purpose did they serve? They helped clean up the world and make it a better place.”

Malachi was in shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing come out of Travis’s mouth. He tried to reason with him. “Travis, it was murder. Plain and simple. They murdered innocent people. They were not heroes, they were delusional drugged-up monsters.”

Travis looked at Malachi with eyes as cold as steel. “Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, too.” As he stood up and stretched, his demeanor quickly changed. With a smile, he asked, “Can you watch the shack for a bit, while I run home and get some grub and maybe take a quick shower to cool off?”

Malachi nodded. “Sure thing, take your time.” He watched Travis head off down the trail, whistling a tune, without a care in the world. Taking a deep breath and scratching his head, he sat on the bench in disbelief of the conversation they’d just had. How could Travis justify what Ambrose and Marcus had done and possibly think that it was okay? He shook his head trying to make sense of it. “He’s young, he’s just glorifying death. This will pass with age,” Malachi said to himself, trying to convince his own mind to believe the words he was speaking.

By the time Travis made it back to the shack they were almost finished for the day. Malachi had dumped the last bucket from the cooler into the pot to boil. It was nice to see a light at the end of the tunnel. When Travis returned, he acted as though nothing had happened. There was no further mention of anything dark and demented, which suited Malachi just fine.

They finished the last batch, bottled it up and capped it tightly. As they loaded the cart to haul the jugs to the store, Travis grabbed Malachi’s shoulder. “Hey, thanks for everything. This is really cool and I appreciate you teaching me how to do it.”

Malachi looked into his bright, happy eyes and smiled. “It’s all good.”

Travis whistled as they loaded the warm bottles onto the trailer. Malachi remembered reading that whistling was an old reformist tradition. It was one of their ways to communicate with their God. He was surprised by the sound and couldn’t recall ever hearing Travis whistle before. He didn’t even think it could be possible to do with that stud in his mouth. It seemed to ease his nerves and make him happy. The kid had a lot on his plate lately and actually, it made Malachi smile to hear the calming tunes.

As they traveled down the bumpy path back to the store, Malachi couldn’t help but grin. The long winter was finally over and another Spring season was upon them. Business was picking up and the arrival of the syrup harvest was generating some much needed funds.

When they arrived back at the mill, Travis went straight to work rebuilding his pyramid display. It had taken a beating throughout the day when he was stuck out at the shack. He finished up and stood back admiring his work. It was quite a dime store masterpiece.

Life took an easy turn that night. Travis was calm and friendly. The duo ate homemade ice cream sundaes and Travis even sat through an old episode of the
Lawrence Welk Show
with Malachi. It pained Travis, but he did it anyway. He felt that he could get through anything with the help of ‘the blessings.’

 

 

Travis kept up his end of the deal and emptied the sap buckets every day after school. He actually seemed to enjoy the chore. As the week wore on, Malachi dreaded having to break the news to Travis, but eventually, over dinner that night he did it. “Son, I think our time is about over.”

Travis slurped his spaghetti with a frown. Wiping his mouth, he replied, “I don’t understand. What’s over?”

“The syrup. I see that the trees are getting ready to bud out. The sap will taste bad as soon as that happens. I think this should be our last week to make syrup.”

Travis let out a big sigh and took a gulp of his Coke. The carbonated drink forced him to burp.

Malachi looked up from his plate and glared at him.

He knew what that meant. Frowning, he said, “Excuse me.” The news made him incredibly sad. “Can’t we go a little while longer?”

Malachi shook his head. “As tempting as it is, we can’t do it. We have to know when to stop or we’ll be known as the bitter brothers.” He chuckled at his own joke and smiled. “Get it, bitter brothers. Because of the bitter syrup.”

Travis nodded and held his straight face. “Yeah, I get it. I just don’t want to stop.”

Malachi sat back, picked up his napkin with his stumpy finger and wiped his mouth. “It is fun. But, now we’ll have next season to look forward to. The anticipation is half of the excitement, isn’t it?”

“I guess, but it’s just not the same. I’ve gotten used to this new routine and I really like it.”

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