Scary Rednecks & Other Inbred Horrors (25 page)

An ancient woman sat behind a wooden table covered with a delectable assortment of fruit.
 
She was perched on a rickety stool, her raison eyes almost lost in the wrinkled confines of her face.

“Ma’am,” I said, inclining my head slightly.

She picked up an impossibly large red apple, rubbed it on the hem of her blue and white dress several times and presented it to me with a smile.

 
I took it from her liver-spotted hands and examined it suspiciously.
 
After assuring myself it was truly an apple, I took an enormous bite.
 
A burst of intense taste filled my mouth and I chewed quickly.
 
She saw my appreciation, smiled and leaned back on her stool.

Morty
and I sat around a large bonfire at the entrance to a cave that the villagers used for cold storage and meetings.
 
The rough walls, coated with a thin layer of light green moss, provided an eerie luminescence.
 

Brother John, a rather tall emaciated man, had invited us to sup with him, his family and a good portion of the village.
 
Morty
was a bit reticent, but once I had given him a taste of the apple, he grumbled and parked the car at the edge of the small village.
 

An immense communal pot rested on a slab of gray slate, heated by the wood from the fire beneath it.
 
In addition to the fresh vegetables, tiny pieces of moss floated on the bubbly surface.
 
I was on my second bowl.
 
The moss was slightly tangy, reminding me of the grapefruits I used to eat in the mornings.
 

“This stuff is fucking great,” said
Morty
.

Morty
always had a problem in mixed company.

“The soil is very good, here,” replied the Brother.

“Don’t you eat any meat?” I asked, remembering the farm animals I’d seen on the way in.
 
I couldn’t help but imagine how a good steak would go with these vegetables.

“We live off the land.
 
We don’t abuse it,” he said. “On rare occasions, we do have some fish.”

“It was lucky we arrived before dinner,” I said.
 
“We..
er
..accidentally left our cooler on the kitchen table.
 
Didn’t discover we had left it until right before we met.”
 
I tried to catch
Morty’s
eye.
 
“Isn’t that right,
Morty
?”

Morty
nodded and helped himself to another bowl.
 
I could see his eyes scanning the people around the fire.

“Brother, that’s religious,
ain’t
it?”
 
I asked.

“We belong to the Church of Divine Determination,” said Brother John.
 
“I lead the people in their prayers.”

“Are you Christian, Muslim, what?”

Brother John considered me for a moment with his calm hollow eyes.
 
“We’re Christians, of course.
 
But I’m afraid that the
mainstream
church doesn’t readily agree to that concept.”
 
He paused for a moment and smiled. “Let us just say they don’t approve of us.”

The spoon halted midway between the bowl and my mouth.
 
I wondered if we were entirely safe.
 
Visions of flesh-eating religious nuts and Sam
Raimi
zombies lurched through my brain.
 
I glanced at
Morty
who had cocked his head to one side, listening.
 
Good, he was paying attention.
 
If there was going to be trouble, having
Morty
on your side was as good as a howitzer.

“What do you mean they don’t approve?” I asked, trying not to sound interested.

“We believe,” Brother John began with a reassuring smile, “that God has set us on a predetermined path.
 
There is nothing that man can do to change it.
 
This belief isn’t appreciated by most.
 
People like to believe they have control of their lives.”
 
He laughed and was joined by several of the villagers sitting within earshot.
 

“So the future is already settled?” I asked.

“Just so,” replied Brother John.
 
He sated proudly at the people around the fire.
 
Where he made eye contact, he received warm reverent smiles in return.

Morty
leaned in. “What about when something bad happens?
 
Like when someone gets sick?
 
Or if someone dies?”
 

“Of course, when someone gets sick, or if any one of our animals die, we’re saddened.
 
Emotion is a human trait.
 
It’s what sets us apart from the animals.
 
It’s also, however, one of the imperfections we’re striving to eradicate.
 
We realize deep down, that God has a purpose for these things.
 
It is not for us to challenge those purposes with human emotion.”

“What about when someone you know dies, like a relative?
 
What then?” persisted
Morty
.

 
I was happy to see he had almost returned to his old self. I was looking forward to having a little more sanity in our lives.

Brother John fixed
Morty
with a smile.
 
“Like I said, we would feel sad.
 
But you must realize, there are no accidents.
 
If someone dies, it is God’s will.
 
We all belong to a greater purpose.
 
Our time here on earth is but a way station, a place for us to pause and contemplate God.”

“What if someone is murdered?”
 

Suddenly, I wished that
Morty
would change the subject.

“Just the same,” said Brother John.
 
“If someone is murdered, it’s part of God’s plan.
 
The murderer is merely a tool of the Lord used to carry out the plan.”

“Isn’t that kind of unreasonable,” I asked.
 
I really wanted to say,
are you fucking out of your mind?
 
But my momma raised me to a modicum of politeness.

“You must realize, friend,” he said, “human freedom has nothing to do with reason.
 
Reason is an invention of man, therefore it cannot apply to God.”
 

Morty
studied Brother John with veiled eyes.
 
I finished my bowl and set it down.
 
All this talk about religion was making my skin crawl.
 
I was about to stand up, proclaim our thanks and bid everyone good-bye, when
Morty
continued.

“Sounds okay to me,” he finally said, voice tight and reasonable.
 
“Why don’t those fuckers in the mainstream like you, then?”

It sounds okay?
 
What the hell was he thinking?
 
It sounds okay?

“They’re afraid, rightfully so, I might add, that our beliefs would lead to universal anarchy.
 
If everyone believed in our
truths
there would be no problem.
 
It is those few who would try and take advantage of these beliefs that make it a problem.”

Morty
placed his wooden bowl on the ground like it was the finest porcelain.
 
He stood up slowly and dusted off his pants.
 
His eyes gleamed as he gave me
The Look
.
 
I groaned inwardly.
 
I knew
The Look
.
 
He was going to do something stupid.
 
I wanted to scream out and tell him to stop.
 
Tell him to leave it alone.
 
Tell him we needed to be on our way.

“What do you mean take advantage?” I asked, trying to get the Brother’s attention and dissuade
Morty
from doing something stupid at the same time.

On cue,
Morty
stepped casually over to Brother John, pulled out his
Magnum Baby
and placed it snug against the Brother’s forehead.
 
The Brother merely stared gently back at his would be murderer.

“Follow thy path,” said the Brother.

The thundering blast startled everyone.
 
As the Brother toppled backward,
Morty
spun around and began tracking the smoking barrel back and forth across the crowd.

“Okay you
sicko
hippie
dumbfucks
, who else wants to dance with
Magnum Baby
?
 
She’ll set you upon God’s path just fine.”
 
He yelled.
 
His mad eyes glittered in the firelight.
 
The eerie green luminescence basked the side of his face with an unearthly glow.

Several people jumped up in confusion and stared at the prone figure of the Brother.
 
After a few tense moments, however, they sat down and resumed eating.

Morty
winked gleefully at me and shoved the gun back into his pants.
 
He swaggered, kicked the dead Brother’s legs out of the way and sat down.

“Just as I thought,” he said getting himself another bowl of stew.

He was certifiable.
 
I couldn’t believe this psychopath was my best friend.

“
Morty
,” I asked slowly, struggling to control my voice.
 
“What the Hell did you just do,
Morty
?
 
Are you on crack?”
 
I knew that my eyes were about as wide as they could get.
 

He smiled like a patient parent.
 
“You don’t get it.
 
You don’t fucking get it, do you, Dan?”
 
He gestured at the people around the fire with his spoon.
 
“I’m the wolf and they’re the sheep.
 
Their only shepherd is a God that doesn’t exist.
 
This place is a freaking amusement park.
 
You can do whatever you want.
 
Murder, rape, whatever.
 
You know why?
 
Cause it’s God’s will.
 
And cause it’s God’s will, none of these religious motherfuckers will do anything to stop me!”
 

“
Morty
,” I said trying to reason with him.
 
I wanted to reach out and grab him by his thin neck and shake him until he either understood or it snapped.
 
“Not everyone wants to murder and rape.”

He shook his head.
 
“Don’t give me that
holier than thou
crap.
 
You’re as big a criminal as me.
 
The only difference is that I’m a doer.
 
You’re not a doer, Daniel.
 
You never have been.
 
You’re a watcher.
 
You’re just along for the ride.”
 
Morty
paused and stood up.
 
He held his arms wide as if to embrace the world.
 
“And here at
Morty’s
Appalachian Amusement Park, we got many kinds of rides.”

He jumped up and stalked over to a scrawny young man, barely out of his teens.
 
Morty
reached down and picked him up, one hand on the legs and one balancing the chest.
 
The young man went slack, refusing to struggle.
 
He lay at the mercy of my psychotic friend.

“We got the
Oh My God I’m On Fire Ride
,”
Morty
said as he threw the young man into the fire.
 
The young man’s screams shook me and I felt myself jump.
 
I watched as hair and the clothes caught fire.
 
Almost too soon, the skin began to sizzle and pop.
 
With wide happy eyes,
Morty
watched the man burn from the other side of the fire.

I sprang forward to see if I could help the boy, but I was too late.
 
His clothes were already engulfed in flames.
 
I grabbed a smoking ankle and heaved him free.
 
The sickly sweet odor of burned flesh invaded my senses and I felt the stew begin an upward climb.
 
I bit it back and rushed toward the communal pot.
 
His clothes were still on fire.
 
His face was a charred and blistered mass.
 
Scorched bone protruded in several places.
 
I reached out with my bare hands and grabbed the scalding pot.
 
I bit back a scream, but somehow held on and poured the remains of the stew over the still burning body of the young man.
 
It was only when I smelled the burns on my own hands, that my stomach turned traitor.
 
Then the stench of burned flesh mixed with the vegetable stew reached into my gut and jerked out my dinner.