The Witches Of Denmark (25 page)

“I came to see you, man,” I said. “I thought you’d be working inside before the sun rose higher, since it’s cool right now.”

“Shit, that damned tin roof makes it hotter than hell inside there!” he said. “Once the sun gets goin’, it’s like bein’ inside a fryin’ pan, man. As hot as it is right now, I’ve got little chance of courtin’ the Devil out here. But not in there.” He laughed as he pointed toward the lone window that Grandpa was thinking of either changing or removing altogether, and I laughed with him. He’s often funny, and it felt good to give in to the laughter.

“I guess a heat gun isn’t exactly the thing to have around when it gets like this, huh?”

“You got that right!”

“Maybe I can help remove the paint inside the barn on a cloudy day?” I said. “Can I help you with something else?”

“Depends on what you’re good at, Bas,” he replied. “Really, I’ve got a good pace goin’. Your grandpa’s been pleased so far, and even with me havin’ to work just a few hours a day beginnin’ next week when early football practice starts, I should have most of the basic structural shit done by September. I’ll resume the inside work in December, after the season ends. There’ll be plenty of need for your heat gun then!”

Since I wasn’t prepared to help with anything else, and I didn’t want to return to the house where Alisia’s temper might still be simmering, I offered to bring any supplies he needed up to where he was perched, and keep him company for a little while.

“I appreciate the offer, man, but honestly I’m good,” he told me. “But you can hang around and talk if you’d like.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling awkward without a common task to help feed a meaningful conversation. “So, what do the team’s prospects look like this fall?”

“Well… if our quarterback takes Coach’s advice to see an eye doctor for his apparent colorblindness, we might be pretty good,” he joked. “Seriously, man, I don’t know… I’d like to get at least one more winnin’ season under my belt before I head to Knoxville next year.”

“You guys went pretty far last year, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… after Jamie—our current quarterback—got hurt in the third game. Sly White came in and damn near took us all the way to state.”

“Why isn’t he the current quarterback?”

“He graduated and went to Baylor… leaving Jamie and a really green frosh named Fred Jones to play quarterback,” he said, pausing to set a new board in place and drill in the screws. “I’d say we’re like these boards up here.” He smiled and drilled in the screws the rest of the way.

I love this dude’s subtler sense of humor best.

“Are you plannin’ to go to college, Bas?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Unlike you, I’m not much for sports, and I haven’t picked out a potential career either. At this point, I’m not sure…. Maybe I’ll try to knock out some of the basic classes at UT Martin.” No deceptive tale here, as this was exactly the plan before the Mateis showed up.

“Not a bad idea,” he said, setting up the next board for the current patching effort. “I had thought of goin’ there, and if not for the scholarship to UT Knoxville, that’s probably where I would’ve ended up.”

“Well… I might chill until November and decide then if I want to get started with some classes in January,” I said, feeling the first bead of sweat course down the top of my head before cascading along my right temple. “Would you mind if I step into the shade for a moment?”

“Not at all... in fact, I might just take a short break myself. See ya in a moment.”

Harris brought a water jug and joined me beneath the full shade of a massive black walnut. Based on the trunk size, my guess was the tree was a sapling long before the house was built using lumber from its unfortunate cousins, or offspring.

We chatted for the better part of half an hour, and I was surprised how easily our conversation flowed from school and sports to family, the neighborhood, and even a brief dalliance about what Alisia’s plans were. While I couldn’t tell Harris we might be gone in a matter of days, if tensions worsened in our feud, I did mention my sister’s plans to eventually pursue a career in cosmetology. 

“Well, she’s pretty enough to make any other woman believe they could be pretty, too,” he said, rising to his feet from where he had sat upon one of the tree’s protruding roots. I joined him, brushing off a small deer tick that had climbed aboard my jeans from the lush grass and weeds surrounding the tree. “Lord o’ mercy, here she comes.”

At first, I wasn’t sure what he meant. But when I looked toward the house, Alisia was on the way to where we stood. On the way and looking incredibly angry. I worried that Harris might notice her feet were barely touching the ground as she walked briskly toward us.

“What’s up, Ali?” I asked, when she was within ten feet and hadn’t slowed down and her heated gaze continued to gain strength.

“That
assbag!”
she seethed.

“Huh?” I wasn’t ready for the mysterious third person reference.

“Manuel has lost his damned mind!” she continued, spitting out the words. I felt sorry for Harris, as she merely glanced at him before turning her attention back to me.

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You better come with me, Bas—it’s really bad!”

Her arms trembled and I noticed her fists were clinched.

She’s ready to pummel someone senseless!

“Sorry, Harris…. We’ll catch up soon, man,” I said.

He nodded and replied not to worry about it, and that he hoped everything would work out all right for our family. Alisia shot him a kinder look, and I wondered briefly if she saw him differently after our breakfast conversation that had surely planted the seeds for her current mood. I watched him nimbly climb back up the scaffolding while Alisia grabbed my right arm gruffly to pull me back to the house.

“Hey!
What gives?!” I hissed.

She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, shaking her head.

“Well?” I persisted

“Manuel attacked the Mateis,” she said.

“What?!”

“Yeah… that was mine and everyone else’s reaction.” She picked up her pace. I kept up with her and she released my arm. “He apparently hurt him pretty badly.”

“Who?”

“Serghei. He’s in the hospital, just like Dad was.”

“Shit!”

“Uh-huh,” she said, fighting back tears of anger. “I bet we’re headed into full-scale war!”

* * * * *

A new gauntlet had been thrown. A new
Radu
gauntlet.

Never before had someone in our family taken on the aggressor role in our ancient feud with the Mateis. It had always been them on the attack. Every confrontation began with a Matei pushing the envelope against us.

Until that fateful Monday.

Worse, it was Manuel who did the deed—the very offspring who was spared so that Toma Matei could perish in unspeakable agony.

By the time we reached the house, I could hear Adrian’s angry voice clearly, as he berated his brother in a mixture of venomous English and Romanian insults. And, not just him….

“How could you do this, son?!”
cried
Grandma, as we stepped into the dining room where everyone was gathered around the table. Seeing twin rivers of profound sorrow course down her cheeks deeply distressed me.

Mom’s eyes were also reddened from tears, as were Dad’s. Grandpa looked despondent with a faraway look on his face. Meanwhile, Adrian carried greater energy than I’d ever seen from him. His hazel eyes were completely on fire, and I feared their lethalness. Eyes that could incinerate anything unfortunate to be in their path. Eyes that could easily kill.

“What’s going on?” I asked, unable to hide my alarm. It was a silly question, as I already knew the answer.

Manuel looked over at me, raising his chin defiantly.

“I did what had to be done,” he said. “There can be no peace with the Matei vermin! They must be dealt with once and for all, and with a fate that is most fitting.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, interrupting Grandma and Grandpa, both sharing a rebuke of their youngest child. “You actually tried to kill Serghei?”

“No… but I should have!”

“Why?” My voice cracked. I pictured the asshole who has abused me, but not as the monster I had known informally for years. Instead, I saw Serghei as the brother of the girl who had stolen my heart. He could use a nice butt whooping, but didn’t deserve to die just for being a king-sized asshole.

“Because he couldn’t keep his damned mouth shut!” Manuel fumed. “I was picking up some donuts for Adrian and me, along with a cup of the breakfast cappuccino your mom likes, and the little shithead accosted me outside the donut shop. I couldn’t believe it! No one to cover his ass and he was so stupidly bold to challenge me to a duel in the parking lot…. I accepted, and promptly sent him flying across the street and into Burger King’s parking lot, where he landed head first against the drive thru sign.”

“Oh, and you’re so proud of that, brother?” sneered Adrian. “There were plenty of witnesses—and guess what? None of them think it was some circus performance this time!”

“I thought you wanted to wipe them out?!” whined Manuel, his defiant grip beginning to slip.

“I
do
want them wiped out!” said my oldest uncle, sending an icy chill down my spine. “But I want it done the
right
way. Not by trying to kill the baby of the family. Do you want the European clans at our doorstep, you imbecile? Hmmm? How about the Elders—are you anxious to see them again so soon, after what you and I did to the aged Nazis we finally tracked down in Austria in 2010? Is that what you want?!”

Manuel eyed him sullenly, but shook his head.

“No? Well, then what in the hell were you thinking, today?!”

“He wasn’t thinking… but he is
not
totally to blame for this!” said Dad, meeting Adrian’s surprised gaze head-on as they stood and leaned across the table toward each other. “We are
all
responsible for what happened today! And, now we need to come up with a plan of defense, since we damn well know the Mateis will seek revenge at any time! We need to be ready, and at the same time have a destination picked out when we flee. Our stay in Denmark is now officially over!”

My knees immediately felt weak, and I nearly collapsed in shock. I hadn’t foreseen things heading south so quickly that day, nor so deeply. In a matter of minutes, several mini-wars were brewing in the dining room: Adrian and Manuel resumed their war of words, while Grandpa and Grandma sought to separate the boys before someone got seriously hurt. Then, Mom and Dad began fighting over where to move to next. Alisia stood next to me, trembling with rage, but saying nothing.

She had given up… I could sense defeat emanating from her aura.

As for me?

I didn’t know what to do. But I couldn’t stay where so much anger and resentment flowed unrestrained. I ran upstairs.

“Sebastian? Bas? …Come back here, son!” My father called after me.

But I didn’t stop running until I reached my room. All the while, I could almost feel the house’s incredible sadness. It didn’t want to lose us any more than I wanted to lose it!

I slammed my door behind me, and heard the creak of footsteps ascending the stairs. Whoever it was—likely my Mom, Dad, or sister—or all of them together—would have to use magic to breach my private domain. Hopefully, they would give me space. I needed time to think—to consider what had happened in just a few hours and the assured death of what might’ve been possible had two families been civil neighbors instead of the sworn and bitter enemies we were.

A light knock on the door went ignored twice.

“Bas… it’s me,” said Alisia from outside the door. “Let’s talk.”

“Not now,” I told her, hating the anger I could no longer hide and, worse, couldn’t divert from her or anyone else I was blood-related to. “I need time.”

There was no reply. Just softer creaks as she moved down the hall to her own room. I intended to seek her out first, whenever I left my room. But it would be a while. Adrian and Manuel were yelling at each other downstairs, and no doubt, the whole damn neighborhood would soon be apprised of the massive pile of shit my uncle had laid on the busy Denmark boulevard known fondly as ‘Hamburger Row’. Adrian was right—there was no explaining this incident away….

While wallowing in my distress, my cell phone suddenly chirped. I even forgot that I had the ringer turned way down since Alisia’s and my fateful visit to the local movie theater two weeks earlier, and hadn’t checked it since. Hell, no one ever calls me on it, and half the time I wonder why I even own a phone. A local number without caller ID, I nearly dismissed it as unwanted solicitation from a local life insurance vender or some other shit.

For the moment, however, I welcomed any distraction not associated with my suddenly dysfunctional family.

“Hello?”

“Sebastian?” said a sweet familiar voice.

“Yes. Is this—”

“Yes, it’s me, Daciana.”

“God, I’m so frigging glad it’s
you--”
Truly I was. Grateful and a little  confused at how she obtained an unlisted, and out of state, cell phone number.