Rogue's Hollow (19 page)

Malachi paused and then continued, “Alexander felt that since he was the leader, he deserved more protection than the rest, so he dried some of the leaves and made a special tea from the toxic plants as well. Slowly, he went mad. The women took the children and moved into town. They had to save themselves and gain distance from the mad men.”

Travis shook his head, confused. “Is that when they began to kill?”

Malachi nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. They devised an evil plan. A scheme to lure homeless and wayward scoundrels to the hollow. Alexander told them that the evil must be fed. The only sacrifice it would accept was human ash and they all believed him.

The covenant welcomed the lost transients and rogues into their fold with compassionate, open arms. Those poor souls that were unwanted in the local towns and had nowhere else to go would come here seeking refuge from ridicule and persecution. Alexander assured them that they were safe here. Then, one by one, they would just up and disappear, usually replaced quickly with a new lost soul. They came from all over the state when word got out that there was a safe haven for them to go to. If anyone would ask, the men folk told people that the transients had simply moved on and left the hollow. But, that wasn’t the case. Most times, no one even knew that they’d been here in the first place. Alexander ordered them killed and the men obeyed him, as though he were God. He had quite a hold over them. Blindly, they followed him. He told them that their families’ safety depended on their strict obedience and that they would all perish if the evil was not fed.”

Malachi slapped the side of the bricks. “This is it. My great-great grandfather spent a lot of time here. Good old Ambrose was known as ‘the cremator’.”

“They used this kiln for cremations?”

“Yep, dozens of them. They were ruthless.”

Travis flinched. “What did Marcus do?”

Malachi took a deep breath and sighed. He didn’t want to tell Travis the truth, but he’d come this far and might as well be completely honest. “Marcus was known as ‘the executioner.’ He was forced to carry out the wicked orders of Alexander. Our relatives were a murdering team. The area took on the name of Rogue’s Hollow around that time. It was a welcomed stop for the traveling rogues. Unfortunately, they never made their way out. It was the perfect plan. No one ever missed those lost and lonely wanderers. Alexander told the followers that he was visited by God one night. God told him that he was proud of the reformists and thanked them for ridding the world of unholy men.”

“How did Marcus kill them?”

“I’m not sure. Ambrose was never specific about that. Marcus would just bring him the body and he would place it into the fiery kiln. His journal said that he would keep guard over the bodies sometimes all night long, replenishing the fire, until there was nothing left but smoldering ash and a few bones that were crushed into powder. Ambrose also wrote that at times he would see demons in the fire, tearing at the flesh as it burned. Long fingernails would rip the sizzling flesh right off the bone. Their hallucinations were very vivid.”

Travis nodded. “Yeah, from what I could make out in the journal, they sounded kind of crazy.”

“They were crazy, son. At the end of Ambrose’s journal he spoke of disobedience amongst the covenant. If one of the men questioned the group’s ethics or wanted to leave, he was ordered killed. That was the hardest thing for our ancestors, killing off their friends and comrades. But, they did it anyway. They followed Alexander’s orders to a tee, right up until the end. They believed he was a prophet.”

“What happened in the end?”

Malachi shook his head. “No one really knows for sure. Ambrose’s journal just abruptly ended one day. But, one old timer that I spoke with told me that Marcus and Ambrose rose up against Alexander. He had lost most of his flock by that point. He ordered our ancestors killed, but the remaining men couldn’t bring themselves to do it. So, they knocked our kin unconscious, moved the rock and threw them into the mine shaft. Then, they sealed it back up and left them in there to rot. One man said that he came back and heard them screaming as though they were being tortured by the devil himself. He tried to move the boulder and let them out, but it was too heavy and eventually, he gave up. He and the remaining men snuck out that night and left town, fearing that they would surely be next. They left Alexander here alone with his hallucinations and God-complex.”

“What happened to Alexander?”

“No one seems to know. He just up and disappeared one day. Many years later, my great-grandpa came out here and revived the abandoned mill and the rest is history.”

“How come no one knows about any of this?”

Malachi rubbed his chin with his stumpy finger and smiled. “Folks think we’re crazy enough down here in the hollow. Can you imagine what they’d think if they knew the truth? I’d prefer they just think the place is haunted. And, to some extent, it is. I guess it’s just one of those dark family secrets. Most folks have them, don’t they?”

Travis nodded. “I guess so. From reading Ambrose’s journal, Marcus seemed pretty violent. He never really said what he did to the bodies, just that they were a mess when they reached the crematorium and that Marcus was always smiling. That’s kinda freaky. Almost like he enjoyed it or something.”

“Like I said, Travis, they were mad. The hallucinations must have been pretty bad by that point. But, at least he had enough sense to stand up to Alexander. His goodness came out in the end.”

“Yeah and you see where that got him. Buried alive in the portal to hell.”

“Those were different times. There wasn’t much law back then. Folks just did whatever they pleased, especially out here in the hollow. From what I understand, the sheriff wouldn’t even come out to this area. The coal miners were such a rough crowd that the law just let them duke it out on their own. It was the perfect cover for our ancestors. They could move around amongst the roughians in town with no one to answer to, not even the law.

Eventually, they became very angry men. They’d started out believing that they were doing good, protecting the world from the evil that had been unleashed through the portal. But, in the end they became the evil.”

“It’s a secret worth keeping, son. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah. I can hear the townies now… gossiping day and night about us psychos out here.” Travis grinned. “It would draw more tourists to the area though.”

Nodding, Malachi agreed. “It probably would. But it would draw the wrong kind of crowd. I like it that folks come here just looking for an innocent scare. If this got out, people would be trespassing all over our land, searching for the portal and conjuring the evil. I don’t see how that would do anyone any good, do you?”

“No. You’re probably right. It does make for a great story though.”

“That it does, son. That it does.” Malachi reached over and grabbed his shoulder. “But it’s our story. You have to help me keep it a secret now, too. Deal?”

“Deal”

“Good. Let’s head on back? It’s time we open up shop.”

Malachi spent the next week worrying himself sick about the effect that knowing the truth would have on Travis. He was pleased to see that Travis’s confidence level was high and his dedication to Malachi and the mill appeared to be as strong as ever.

As the last tourists of the day clutched their amulets and scurried out of the store, Travis lifted the bottle of ‘angel blessing’ to place it back underneath the counter. He glanced over at Malachi who was flipping the sign to ‘Closed’ and turning off the front porch lights. Curiosity got the best of him. “Hey, what’s in this stuff anyway?”

Malachi turned and saw the bottle in his hand. He stammered on his words and tried to change the subject. “Mostly water, just to trick the travelers. Do you want to tally up the cash box or sweep?”

Travis wasn’t buying into it. “Your shoulder’s been bothering you, so I’ll sweep, but only if you’ll tell me the truth about the angel blessing.”

Malachi came around to the back of the counter, took out his reading glasses and opened the money box. “Shoo now, off with you… get to work.”

Travis stood his ground. “No secrets, no lies, right Malachi?”

Malachi tried to continue counting out loud to distract the boy’s attention. It didn’t work. He looked over the rim of his glasses and saw Travis waiting patiently with his arms crossed, refusing to move until he got an answer. He sighed and laid the bills back inside the box. “Sometimes I hate this honesty pact we have. Okay, you got me. It’s Angel’s Trumpet. But, just a touch. Not enough to actually hurt anyone.”

Travis laughed. “Seriously, dude? You’re getting people high with the amulets?”

“I’m not doing it, they do it to themselves.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Travis, I know I shouldn’t, but it works. I just put a drop or two on the amulet. If they get scared they take out the amulet and rub it for protection. A miniscule amount of the plant resin rubs off onto their skin and seeps into their bloodstream. The effects are very minimal, but they still see and hear things that aren’t really there. It adds to the fright.” Malachi picked up the bills and said, “You see, it’s a win win situation for us all.”

Travis shook his head with a big grin on his face. “You sly fox. You never cease to amaze me, Malachi. What else don’t I know about you?”

“The fact that I’m dog tired and you’re standing here wasting my nap time chit-chatting when you could be pushing that broom around.”

Travis nodded and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get it done. No worries, Stumpy.”

Malachi couldn’t help but smile as Travis walked away. It was nice to have someone to tell his secrets to. Someone that he knew would carry on the traditions that he’d worked his entire life to protect. It really did feel like he finally had his son back.

Nineteen

W
inter came on fast and furious. Malachi always hated the wintertime. It was dark and lonely at the old mill. No tourists came to the store and with the exception of Roberta and Baxter, no one came to visit. But this winter was different.

Malachi had Travis now and he’d settled into a pleasant routine. Up at six-thirty, he made some breakfast and got Travis up for school. For the first time in his life, Travis was on the honor roll. It didn’t come easy or natural to him. He studied every night and worked really hard to keep his grades up.

Travis had actually gained some recognition at school and took great pride in his accomplishments. He felt like a much different person than the old Travis and kept his eye on the prize. Graduation was just over the horizon. And then he could be the full-time, co-proprietor of the Old Mill General Store in Rogue’s Hollow. He couldn’t wait. As hard as he tried to do well in school, he still didn’t like it. High school was nothing more than a gossip fest and he grew increasingly tired of the other kids’ immaturity. He was more than ready to move on to the next phase of his life.

When Travis left for school, Malachi would tinker with little things that needed done around the mill during the day, such as a fresh coat of paint on the interior window sills, tightening old door knobs, and whatever else he could find to keep himself occupied.

The only exception was the day when a new
National Geographic
magazine would arrive on his doorstep. On those rare days, all activity came to a grinding halt as he sat for hours, studying the beautiful pictures and stories from cover to cover, sometimes reading it two or three times. He would pause and go to his world atlas that hung on the wall with thumb tacks. Squinting through his glasses, he would painstakingly discover every place that they traveled in the magazine.

Occasionally, Malachi got a bit stir crazy from being stuck at the old mill every day. Today was one of those days. It amazed him how exciting a simple trip to the grocery store could be when you’re extremely bored. Travis usually drove them to Doylestown, but on this occasion they went into Canal Fulton instead.

As they meandered up and down the aisles, Malachi took his sweet time reading the labels. He enjoyed getting out of the hollow and wanted to kill some time. Travis was getting agitated, but held his tongue. He tried to imagine what it was like for Malachi, stuck out at that old mill, day in and day out. Even though the grocery store was a terrible bore to him, he patiently waited and allowed Malachi time to enjoy the break from his boring routine.

While he was waiting in the baking aisle, Travis closed his eyes and took in the smell of the freshly baked bread. With a sigh, he imagined melting butter and fresh strawberry jam oozing down the sides of the steaming warm bread. He was snapped back to reality when a firm hand rested on his left shoulder. A deep voice followed, “Hello, son.”

Spinning around quickly, Travis reared away from the large man with pockmark scars on his face and crooked rotting teeth.

“How have you been, Travis?”

Travis stood in shock. He had no words for the man. A look of fear and panic sunk deep into his face.

Malachi watched the interaction closely, unsure who the man was. He could see how uncomfortable Travis was and decided to step in when his young friend began to nervously stare at the floor.

His heart raced as he decided to introduce himself. “Hello, I’m Malachi Chidester. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Malachi, nice to meet you. I’m Travis’s father, Doug.”

Travis avoided eye contact with him and timidly asked, “When did you get out?”

“About a month ago. I’ve been asking around for you. People said you were livin’ in another town, but no one knew where for sure. I didn’t know if I would recognize you, but I just knew it was you, son.”

Travis nodded and continued to stare at the ground. “I live with Malachi now.”

Doug looked at Malachi and crossed his arms across his wide chest in a judgmental stance. “Interesting. And just where is that?”

Malachi chimed in, “It was nice to meet you, Doug. We’re in a bit of a rush and really must be going. Have a good day.”

Doug bristled, “I would like to talk to my son, if you don’t mind.”

Malachi stood between the two men and glared at Doug. “I don’t believe Travis has anything to say to you. Leave him alone, do you understand me?”

“Who the hell do you think you are old man? That’s my son. I have every right to talk to him, whenever the hell I please.”

“He’s eighteen. You have no rights to him and don’t ever insinuate otherwise.”

Doug leaned in and smirked. “Big talk for such an old shit. He’s my son and I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”

Malachi leaned in even closer, completely unaffected by his threats. “Listen to me very carefully you sorry piece of scum. Travis is a better man at eighteen years old than you’ll ever be. He’s making something of his life. All you’ve made of yours is a mess. Now go and lay in it and leave him alone!”

Doug pointed a finger at Malachi. “Don’t fuck with me, old man.”

Malachi grabbed Travis’s shirt sleeve and ushered him forward. “Come on, son. It’s time we be going now.”

Travis pushed the cart, never making eye contact with his father.

Doug yelled at them as they walked away. “He’s not your son, old man. This isn’t over. It’s far from over.”

Malachi paid the bill and they hurried to Rosie, who was patiently waiting for them outside. “Come on, Travis. Let’s go quickly.” They tossed the bags into the truck bed and sped off out of town.

Travis sat in the passenger seat staring blankly out the window. He was nervously shaking his leg and playing with his tongue piercing.

Malachi tried to reassure him. “Shake it off, son. Don’t let him get inside your head. He’s like a cancer. The only way to get rid of it is to completely cut it out of your life. And you must do that. He isn’t a part of your life anymore, Travis. Don’t give him any power over you.”

Travis nodded and continued to stare out the window.

Malachi pulled Rosie over into a parking lot and stopped. “Travis, look at me.”

Travis looked over, hesitantly.

“Look at me, son.”

Travis looked into Malachi’s eyes. He saw a friend, someone he could trust. “I’m scared,” he said as his lower lip began to quiver.

“Me too, but we’re in this together. He is a wicked man and he is not a part of our lives. You have made your own life, Travis. Don’t allow him back into it. He will ruin everything. It’s up to you to force him out. You’re eighteen. You’re a man. He has no rights over you. Now is the time when we must stand strong against evil. He is evil. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Travis nodded as a tear fell on his cheek. “I will. I’ll try really hard to be strong.”

As hard as Travis tried, he couldn’t get Doug out of his mind. The nightmares were back. The memories of life with that monster plagued his dreams. He began to fear the dark again and look over his shoulder constantly. He knew that wasn’t the last they’d seen of him and that he’d be back. Doug never gave up that easy or took no for an answer. The memories of the abuse trickled into his every thought. He became so fearful that he could barely function.

With his heart racing, he drove to school every day, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Doug would be there waiting for him. Travis wasn’t sure what he’d do or how he would react to seeing him again. He felt like a scared little boy, powerless over Doug’s control and his rage.

Malachi tried to calm his fears. He took Travis out into the woods for target practice. They practiced every day after school. Once Malachi was assured that Travis was a confident shooter, he placed a handgun under the front counter and one in a bureau drawer in the living room. If Doug did show up at the mill, they’d be ready for him.

Travis tried to keep busy at the store to take his mind off Doug. One night, after he’d finished his homework, he wandered into the store looking for a chore to tackle. He decided to reorganize the cluttered mess under the front counter. As he sorted through a stack of papers, he accidentally knocked over the bottle of angel blessing. It toppled over and spilled all over the floor. Travis cursed and desperately tried to clean it up. Picking up the soggy flower petals from the mess, a small amount of the liquid got on his hands. Malachi heard the crash and rushed in to see what had happened.

“I’m so sorry. I’m such a damn klutz.”

“It’s all good, son. I can make some more. We needed a fresh batch anyway for the spring tourist season. This bottle was getting old.”

Travis thought for a moment and then replied, “Will you teach me how to make it?”

“Absolutely. We’ll work on it this weekend. Now, go wash your hands.” Malachi was excited that Travis wanted to learn another tradition at the mill.

Travis nodded and left the room. He went into the restroom and ran water over one of his hands, but curiosity took over. He wanted to see what it felt like so he allowed the solution to remain on his other hand. It wasn’t long before the buzz began to kick in. Travis grew increasingly calmer and for a while he forgot all about Doug. He didn’t have any hallucinations, just a nice comfortable high. Sleep that night was peaceful and for the first time in over a week, he wasn’t plagued by nightmares. He felt relaxed and almost invigorated the next morning. 
             

By the time the weekend got there, he couldn’t wait to get a little more resin on his fingers. It almost felt like a magic potion. He pestered Malachi all morning, anxious to make up a fresh batch.

They worked together and plucked the largest blossoms from the plant, ones that were full of nectar, and placed them into a new glass jar. Malachi then topped off the jar with water from an old sulfur well behind the mill. Malachi placed the bottle into a pan of gently boiling water on the stove and allowed the concoction to slowly steep for about thirty minutes. It smelled horrible. But eventually the sulfur smell dissipated and the liquid from the flowers seeped into the water, turning it a lovely purple color. Malachi held it up to the light with an oven mitt and proclaimed, “It’s done. See that lovely color? You must give it time. It’ll let you know when it’s ready. That beautiful lavender color is unmistakable.”

Carefully, he carried the bottle over and placed it on the window ledge in the sunlight. “We’ll let it cool, then it’ll be ready to go.”

Travis smiled. “That’s it? That’s all you have to do?”

“Yep, pretty simple, huh?”

“Too simple. I can’t believe that just a few flowers will make up a whole jar.”

“It’s some powerful stuff, Travis. This plant has had ages to perfect its potion. Plus, we don’t want to give folks too much, just a little taste.”

“So, how much is too much? I don’t want to poison anyone.”

“Just a drop or two is all that’s needed. Most of it soaks into the wood and leaves very little residual effects. But, that miniscule amount on the surface is all it takes.”

Travis’s curiosity peaked. “Does everyone who touches it hallucinate?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve done a little research on the plant at the library. It affects everyone differently. Some folks just feel mellow, but it really does get to some people though, mostly the smaller females. It doesn’t take as much to get into their system. Plus, they’re a little more skittish to start with.”

“Is it addictive?”

“If overused, folks might crave it, but I don’t think it’s considered addictive. We are definitely safe to apply it to the amulets, in small doses. But, then again look at Alexander, Ambrose, and Marcus. Who’s to say how much they were taking. Ambrose wrote in his journal that towards the end, they were even drinking it, full strength as a steeped tea. Can you imagine?”

Travis shook his head, trying to act nonchalant. “No. I can’t.” But he could imagine it and secretly wondered what it would feel like.

“Once it cools, we’ll cap it and then it’s ready for application.”

“Just like that?”

Malachi nodded. “Just like that. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

His absurd sayings always entertained Travis and made him smile.

The nightmares were bad that night. Travis was ready for another dose, just a small one, to ease his nerves a bit. When Malachi gave his approval, Travis gently carried the jar to the store and placed it carefully under the counter. As he knelt down, he opened the bottle and stuck his finger inside. He watched over his shoulder to make sure that Malachi couldn’t see him. Capping the bottle, he quickly stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked the juice off. Even though the sulfur still tasted nasty, he sucked off every bit of the residue. He nervously played with his tongue piercing as he waited. A grin began to creep across his face as it started to kick in.

Travis had dabbled in drugs before and he’d swore that it was all behind him. Never again would he allow himself to be taken over by a substance. It was mostly marijuana that he’d messed with. It had made him feel weak, dependent on something and he despised that feeling. Although he did like the buzz it gave him. All his troubles seemed to drift away. But, then a whole new slew of troubles crept in. He didn’t want to go through that again.