Hidden Highway
byTom Lichtenberg
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2007 by Tom Lichtenberg
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David Morales
Roland was never without his radio. Switching back and forth between salsa and contemporary rock, Roland's little radio went everywhere he went. You always knew when he was around. Even now, in the middle of the night, as he set about his work cleaning up the motel kitchen, the radio sat like a flightless canary on a nearby shelf, twittering above the faucet, the songs pouring through and around him like the water he used to wash dishes. Every so often he'd pause to change the station, from the one to the other, and a few minutes later, back again.
Josefa was a fan of silence at night. She would have preferred no music at all. The old woman came and went throughout the evening, always busy with a chore, never stopping to rest. In any ways, the motel was her own.
Although she only worked there, she knew everything about it. The little buildings were like her children; untidy, wild and in need of constant maintenance. Hadn't she seen a lot in her time? It was Roland who wanted to know, who kept asking her to stop and stay awhile and tell him stories. It was Roland who flashed her that smile, that friendly face, wily in the ways of the world, that tempted her to slow her chugging train.
'Oh, I could tell you', she'd reply, leaning for a moment on her mop, but always, 'later. The work is never done'.
'Of course' said Roland, 'the work comes first, and then?', he suggested. 'We could talk?'.
Josefa eventually agreed and pushed her buckets down the hall. Roland hummed along with every song as he worked, though it was his own that he was singing, all mixed up, whatever tune he felt to whistle or sing on top of whatever happened to be playing. Dishes needing to be washed and dried, counters to be cleaned, floors swept and all things put away. By the time Josefa returned, the kitchen was sparkling and neat and even quiet. He'd turned the radio off for once. She glanced around, approving. Roland, though new, was a good one, she thought, and so she offered him her smile, and offered to make some tea, but he'd already made some, and just the kind she liked, and so she sat, for once, and let him wait on her.
'So', she began. 'Where to start?'
'Anywhere', he replied, while gathering cups and saucers and a bit of dessert he'd saved from dinner, a German chocolate cake, enough for two.
'Anywhere is nowhere', she countered, and Roland smiled. She would need some prodding.
'Then tell me about David Morales', he said, and Josefa looked up, surprised. How could this man know about that already? she wondered. The queen of gossip was not used to being scooped, but a shrug and a crooked smile from Roland put her back at ease, and it was an old story anyway. Anybody might have told him.
Antonio Morales
'Do you believe in ghosts?' Josefa wanted to know, and Roland nodded and grinned.
'Of course', he said. 'There are ghosts even here'.
Josefa laughed at that. 'Especially here, you mean', she said. 'But David Morales did not believe and that was just the beginning of his problems. Even when Eugenia gave him proofs beyond all doubt, he stuck with his non-belief. He figured she must have had a crazy twin, or a mutant daughter. The ghost who gave birth to their child was not amused. Ghosts can have a sense of humor too, just like anybody else, but this was carrying it too far.'
'Gave birth to a child?' Roland was always alert to the new and unexpected.
'Antonio Morales', she replied. 'Oh, his father raised him for awhile. He had no problem about that, but he refused to talk to the mother, or even acknowledge her presence. She'd badgered him for years. Everyone around here knows. Well, everyone who was around here then. It was awhile ago.'
'And David?'
'David went about his business. He built this motel with his own two hands. Afterwards he started drifting. Seemed to lose his sense of purpose. His house is on the highway, the brown one over there', she gestured toward the window, 'behind the trees.'
'He's still around?, Roland said.
'Oh no', she replied. 'David still here? No way. He had enough of this place. Moved on.'
'And Antonio?'
'Oh he's here', Josefa told him. 'He's still a kid, you know. He gets around. You see him when you're least expecting to.'
'And he's the last of the family?'
'The last Morales, it's true. The old brown house is empty. Sometimes there's a squatter there. You'll see a car and even lights on in the house. Occasionally a dog will trot on out the road. Been awhile since someone lived there regular, though. Eugenia's still there, they say. Waiting. What for, I don't know. I haven't seen her myself. And Antonio, he's here and there, now you see him, now you don't. They say he's a good kid, basically, but sometimes you just don't know.'
Roland poured her some more tea, and offered another slice of cake, but Josefa waved it away.
'That stuff's too good', she said. 'I don't want to be up all night. So what do you know about ghosts'?
'They don't stay put', he told her. 'Just when you think you've got 'em sealed and set, back they come. Like the one I was just telling you about before. Beauregard Sweet.
Sugar
'Ghosts don't usually like roommates', Josefa observed, 'especially when they've been haunting the same house for a long time. Some other ghost comes along, thinks he can haunt wherever he likes ...'
'It's plain rude', Roland continued. 'And Sugar, that's what they always called Mr. Sweet, because of his name and because of his sweet tooth too, he was always a bit of a slob, and lazy at that. Do you know if they have a TV?'
'At Morales'? I think so', Josefa said. 'Most everybody does these days'.
'Sugar would like that', Roland said.
'Eugenia wouldn't be happy' said Josefa. 'She's been known to throw a fit. One time she threw all of David's stuff out in the weeds. He just calmly picked everything up, put it back. Everybody said, you've got to do something about that woman and he just shrugged and said, what can you do? She's already dead.'
'How'd she die?' Roland inquired.
'Oh, suicide', said Josefa. 'Eugenia was always claiming she'd be better off that way. Even as a little girl - she and my grand-daughter Elana were at school together, you know, and even then she was pretty morbid. Squashing bugs. Burning ants. That sort of thing. She had the biggest crush on David, used to bring him dried lizards. He never wanted to have anything to do with her. He used to write very formal letters to her mom and dad. Dear Senor and Senora Lazario, please keep your daughter, Eugenia, away from me. I am very sorry but I simply do not like her. Yours truly, David Morales. And he was only seven or eight at the time. You can imagine, by the time they were in their teens, she was hanging around his house all the time, following him to school, leaving little notes tucked in his locker. I will love you till the end of time, that sort of thing. Even death will never keep us apart. Little did he know how much she meant it. Poor David, he could never find a girlfriend because of her. Lots of girls liked him okay, but she was always there, always Eugenia in the way, and she would threaten them too. Seriously. You get close to my David and I'll cut your heart out, she would say. I would try and tell her, Eugenia, if you love him let him be, but she said, no. I love him so I cannot let him be. He is mine forever.
It got to the point where David just accepted it. He grew up, became a man, he built that house. All that time, Eugenia haunted him. Finally she hung herself, right there in David's house. She broke in, brought her own rope, tied herself up. Just so she could be with him forever. Right then he should have sold that house, or burned it to the ground, but David had a feeling for his destiny. He was never one to run away. Everyone could see her plain as day, for years. You went inside, you felt it. Her voice, her smell, the image of her in every corner. When the baby was born, oh wasn't that something? All at once in the middle of the night, David was asleep upstairs and he heard a noise like screaming in the living room. When he got there he could tell it was a baby crying. Antonio was there on the rug with the cord still bloody but cut. She always said she would have his child. There was nothing that could stop her, not even being dead.'
'That explains a lot', said Roland. 'Sugar was not having a good time in that house. He never got comfortable. At least it got better for him when LeMaster showed up.'
'LeMaster?' Josefa asked. 'Our Mister LeMaster?'
'Yeah', said Roland, 'It's not like Sugar was happy to see him, not after their previous encounter, but what with Eugenia I guess it must have been a relief'.
Sharad
Roland said 'excuse me' and got up from the big oak table and stepped over to the sink. He reached up and turned the dial of his little radio, back to the salsa station he loved best. Josefa thought at least that was better than the oldies they'd been listening to. She never liked those long-haired boys with pretty-girl voices. Roland brought back a pack of loosely wrapped cigarettes, shook one out and offered it to her.
'These are from my country', he announced.
'Country?', she asked. 'I figured you were from down South, New Orleans maybe. You kind of got that Delta look about you. That copper skin, that wiry hair.'
'Down South all right', he said, 'but you got to keep going till you get to Brazil. The only thing Delta about me is the Amazon.'
'Well I knew you had that big river look', she smiled as she took one and let him light it for her. He lit one for himself as well and removed his saucer from under his tea cup to use as an ash tray.
'They're okay', Josefa said, after a nice long drag. 'Different.'
'You said you were a little girl right here. Born and raised, I guess?'
'Born and raised', she nodded. 'Used to be when I was a girl we Mexicans had to pretty much stay over there on the inland side of the highway. It was something when David Morales built his house on the coast side. First Mexican to do it. Things they might be changing now.'
'It's kind of remote out here', he said and Josefa laughed.
'We always said, if you're on this road, and you ain't from here, you must be lost.'
'Got the beaches.'
'Too damn rocky and the water's too damn cold. People go South for that.'
'Got the views'
'Highway doesn't get close enough, really. Mostly all you see is trees and brown dead grass.'
'Got the cities'
'Two hundred miles South, and four hundred miles North. If you want to get to one or the other you take the Freeway.'
'Still, people come here. Got this motel'
'Maybe they come for that', Josefa laughed and nearly choked on the smoke. Roland merely smiled.
'I know', she said, after she recovered from her fit. 'It's got it's own kind of beauty around here. Lots of people like to see the countryside, drive around. But when I think about all the places in the world, all the things you could see, I wouldn't be thinking of here.'
'People don't always know why they end up where they do', Roland murmured. 'Sometimes they get a feeling that just moves them and they go. Maybe they think they know. They got their reasons. They tell themselves a story. Sometimes they're just looking for something and that something could be anywhere'.
'Even here', Josefa agreed.
'Could be anywhere', he repeated. 'LeMaster got here by heading North. Out of the city, over the bridge, just North. He told himself, just keep going and you'll know when to stop.'
'I thought he came for the job'.
'First he just came. He was hoping to be lost.'
'Then he came to the right place', Josefa smiled.
'But you can't run away from yourself', Roland disagreed. 'Not even if your name's Sharad LeMaster.'
Mr. Pitts
'He was lucky to get this job', Josefa said. 'We thought that mean old Mr. Pitts would never leave. That man was here forever!'
'What happened to him?' Roland asked.
'You'd never guess', Josefa laughed. 'Whoever would have thought that fat old sack of shit would've wound up finding himself a Russian mail order bride and moving out to North Dakota to buy a damn dairy farm? After all those years of dragging his sorry ass around here, never helping an old lady, just yelling all the time at the maids and the kitchen help. Of course we didn't make it easy for him, neither. God how we hated that bastard! One time Pepita filled his slippers with dog shit. Oh, that was funny. I can still hear the squish when he stepped into one!'
Josefa cackled with glee as she remembered. 'That Pitts', she continued. 'People who just walked in the door already hated that man. You could feel it in the way they dropped their bags on the floor and sighed. He'd be sitting there in his fat man bar stool, pretending to be busy on the phone instead of helping them get their rooms. Never was nobody on the other end of the line. He just liked to make 'em wait. They'd say excuse me or clear their throats but he'd just wave them off, turn his fat ass around.'
'How long was he around?'
'Oh god, it seemed forever. I want to say eleven years. It must have been. From the time Joe Junior took over, I guess. Pitts and Junior had some kind of previous connection, like maybe he was his teacher or something. I don't really know. Otherwise he never had so much as a person to talk to. Then all at once one day he was gone. It was Junior who told us about that North Dakota and the Russian thing. Not sure I believe it myself.'
'Why would he make it up?'
'Oh you never can be sure about Joe Junior. That man might say about anything. He told me once that Ricardo Jimenez was growing lemons in the trunk of his car.'
'Lemons?'
'Shit! Ricardo was like, what the hell are you doing? when he caught me trying to break into it. You think I was going to tell him about lemons?'
'What'd you say?'
'I just ran as fast as I could! I saw Joe Junior laughing so hard I thought maybe he would have a heart attack and he would deserve it too. Serve him right.'
'I never trusted that man ever since', she continued.
'Mr. Watson has never said nothing to me', said Roland.
'That's only because you're new', she told him. 'He don't know you that well. Give him time and he will. But Mister LeMaster, he's nothing like Pitts. He's almost exactly the opposite. I can't help it but I like that man'.
'No one can help it', said Roland. 'That's really the problem he's got.'
Kitty Lake
'What do you think about that Swallow business?' Josefa asked, rubbing her hands together. She always did that when she was warming up to the gossip. The chocolate cake, the warm lemon tea, and the Brazilian cigarette were combining with the natural steam of the kitchen to put her in a state of happy chatting.
'There was something strange about that from the beginning', Roland replied, 'from the day those two walked in the door. Sharad had a feeling too, you know. He's always known right away when something's not quite right, ever since he was a kid. Maybe because of the way his father was. Did you know about his father?'
'I don't think so', Josefa said. 'It's funny to even think about that. You see an old person - like me - you don't even think of them as a child, or they had a mom or dad. I remember when I was around fifty I suddenly realized that people looked at me and saw an old woman. And that was already a long time ago. Mister LeMaster, he must be around sixty, I'd guess.'
'A little older I think', said Roland. 'Sixty-four, maybe five. It's the bald head makes him look younger.'
'And that trim little beard', said Josefa. 'I always did like a man with a beard.'
'Besides that he's from India, or at least his dad was. I never knew about the mom. No one seems to know. Back when he was a boy growing up in the Buena Vista Trailer Park, it was always just his dad and him. Mandar Malhotra. The dad's name was. Sharad Malhotra was his given name.'
'Not LeMaster?'
'No, that came later. Much later. He went through a bunch of names. You know the way kids are. Harry. Rod. Pookie at one time.'
'Pookie!' Josefa cracked up. 'I bet nobody calls him Pookie anymore.'
'Not if they don't want that look he gets. You don't want to see that look.'
'I don't know about that. He's always been friendly to me.'
'Oh yeah. He saves it for when no one's looking. I've seen it, though. A lot of times.'
'You knew him before?'
'Oh yeah, didn't I tell you? I knew him from back in the city. Some of my friends and me, we used to run into him, now and then. Had some dealings. I used to work in auto repair. He had the trailer park down the street. Business, mainly. Some other stuff. Odd jobs, you know. Knew him from a long time back.'
'So that's how you ended up here?'
'Well, not really on purpose. Just sort of, the way things go.'
'I never lived anywhere but here,' said Josefa. 'Never wanted to, really. It's beautiful out here. All my family and friends. Hard to make a living sometimes, but they say it's the same all over.'
'Up here, I don't know how they do it. You see people stuffing animals, carving wood, hauling junk. How they get by, it beats me.'
'Most of us got lots of jobs, different things going on. I do the cleaning around here but I also do some weaving, some leather repair, some toy making. Things like that. You get to know people. They get to know you. A thing needs doing, you do it.'
'Mandar Malhotra was living like that. LeMaster's dad. He'd go around the city, just knocking on doors, offering his services. A little of this, and a little of that. Until he totally went crazy. After that, he just locked himself up in trailer seventeen. Hardly anybody but his own son ever saw him after that. Sharad, he did everything then.'
'Poor kid. How old was he then?'
'Fifteen, sixteen, I guess. Around then. Just the friendliest kid. He was always with a smile on his face. Didn't walk for dancing. Good looking kid, too. That's about when he caught the eye of Miss Kitty Lake too, and that was just the beginning.'
MacAfee
'I remember Kitty Lake', Josefa said, 'Wasn't she voted something like worst movie star ever?'
'Yeah, she was terrible', Roland agreed.
'Temptress by Dawn? The Rock Crab Killers? Moonlit Fiasco?'
'Moonlit Bonanza', he corrected.
'Always some kind of a slut'
'That's our Kitty', Roland laughed, 'and she wasn't much different in real life. Hard-drinking. Had a mouth on her like you wouldn't believe. Sharad was her good side. She'd trot him out whenever she needed something from someone. Make nice with the cops, city planners, whoever it was she owed money to. At first he just had to do it, otherwise where was he going to live? She'd've kicked them right out. She had her big goon, MacAfee. Nobody messed with him.'
'Rumor was', Roland continued, 'MacAfee'd killed some folks. Everybody thought so. People had a way of disappearing around that place. There was some crazy story about trailer seventeen and how it had the power to make someone invisible. People thought so literally. Invisible. You believe it?'
'Only one way I know', Josefa said, 'and that's when they plant you in the ground.'
'I'm with you', said Roland. 'But Sharad and his father lived in there, and no one ever saw Mandar again after awhile. Never came out, not once. And then they said he was gone. Passed away. Like that', he snapped his fingers. 'Poof'.
'Sharad never said a word about it, as far as I know', said Roland. 'By that time he was working for Kitty Lake full time. He was around twenty, I'd guess. Kitty must've been around sixty.'
'She still have her looks?'
'Pretty much', said Roland. 'but the way that woman lived she must have made a deal with the devil to keep looking like that.'
'It's been known to happen', said Josefa.
'Soon turned out Sharad had a way with people. After awhile it was Kitty who was doing what he wanted, and not the other way around. MacAfee started taking orders from Sharad. Here's this skinny little kid, pushing around this giant six five, two eighty pound monster. Nobody knew the secret, but I thought it never was a secret, it was just a gift he had. He was magnetic.'
'Still is', Josefa nodded.
'Even now', said Roland. 'The day that Henrietta Swallow and her man showed up'
'Henry', Josefa inserted. 'Henry and Henrietta. Seems to me that man had a snake coiled up around his heart. Mean one, you could tell.'
'That very first night, she came drifting down at midnight, hung around the lobby. Sharad had a sense right away. He knew she didn't fit in'
'To hear it from Henry, they were made for each other', Josefa said. 'He was always saying things like that.'
'She even had his sign tattooed on her ass'
'His sign?'
'That snake you said.'
'I didn't know it was for real'
'Oh yeah,' said Roland, 'He had that mark and he put it on her too. She was trapped, poor thing. Son of a bitch wouldn't let her out of his sight, so she had to drug him to sleep. Then she went out. She'd been looking for trouble for years.'
'She already had enough as it was'
'Wanted more, it seems', he said. 'She started leaning in on the counter, where Sharad was trying to read. He still had Pitts' old fat man barstool! Trying to swivel away but she'd come right around the counter. Small thing. You know I thought first thing that she looked just like Kitty Lake.'
'When Kitty was a star'
'Back in the day', he nodded. 'Change the hairstyle fifty years and there it was, Kitty Lake reborn. I think Sharad had a sense. He was trying to keep away. She was hanging all over him, talking and talking and she wouldn't shut up. Telling him how good he looked, how lonely she was. Sharad couldn't turn off the spigot. At the same time, he knew. That guy in 12-C. He was just the one for her.'
'12-C? You mean Mr. Barclay?'
'Don't remember his name. If that was him. Tall guy. Glasses. Salesman.'
'Sounds like him. Paul Barclay. Decent tipper. Stays a few times a year, makes a regular round.'
'Lonely guy?'
'Never saw him with anyone. Minds his own business. Watches a lot of TV.'
'Sounds like the one', said Roland. 'Sharad could mix and match alright. It's what he did. Got him in hot water more than once. Back at the Buena Vista Trailer Park, it was his specialty. He'd take families, re-arrange them. Put husband X with wife Y, kids Z and before you know it, you had a brand new family, better than the first.'
'You serious?'
'Absolutely', Roland said. 'Started out he was only doing them a favor. People couldn't pay the rent, he'd double them up in a trailer, give 'em a break. Then he started noticing who was getting along, who wasn't. He got tired of having MacAfee breaking up fights. Didn't want to have that kind of trailer park, he said. Lowlifes causing trouble. It was going to be a different kind of trailer park, wholesome. Happy families, if he had to re-create them himself.'
'Sounds kind of crazy', Josefa said.
'You wouldn't think it would work', agreed Roland, 'and sometimes it didn't. People'd get all bent out of shape. Those people he would move along. Or MacAfee would. The rest, they got to liking it. Some kinky stuff going on. More than wife-swapping. He kept 'em guessing, moved them around a lot. A lot of people came and went but after a bunch of years it got to be more stable. By then, it was a way of life. Outsiders got to calling it a compound, like it was some kind of cult and he was the leader, but he had no religion or anything like that. No message. No purpose. He just kind of ran their lives, like a king.'
'If he was like a king down there, how the hell did he end up here?'
'It all went down', said Roland. 'Kind of unexpected. One day the E.P.A. showed up. Turned out the trailer park was sitting on some kind of toxic dump. They tore the whole thing down and Sharad, he took off. Just left. Nobody knew where he went. The people, his people, they were lost. Didn't know what to do. Some of them just wandered away. Others set off to try and find him, but he didn't want to be found.'
'He picked a good place then', said Josefa. 'Nobody'd think of coming here.'
'Yeah, but he took himself with him', said Roland. 'and the thing that makes you rich will make you poor.'
Henrietta Swallow
'Sometimes, you don't know who's the strange one, and who's the one that's normal', Josefa said. 'Like that Barclay man. I was thinking all along, and he's been coming here for years, and I was thinking, that has got to be the most normal, the most typical, the most boring man in the world. Never had a word to say, but always had a smile, even if it was a fake one. I'd knock and come in to clean up the room. He never minded. He'd just get out of the way, make excuses as if he was the one who should. Most of the time they'll tell you to go away, come back another time. Not Mr. Barclay. Whenever I knocked he was like, oh, go right ahead. I was just leaving. As if I care. I can always clean the damn room. It's what I do all day. So he goes and leaves and usually I poke around a bit. I suppose if I was younger, or if I was busier, or if I wasn't such a nosy old bitch I wouldn't do it that much, but I am so I do. Turns out he's got some things going with him.'
'Oh yeah, what kind of things?' asked Roland.
'Oh, bad things, very bad', Josefa smiled. 'There's always messes of the kind there shouldn't be, if you know what I mean.'
'I'm getting the picture', he replied.
'And pictures too', she said, 'he always had a lot of those.'
'Normal? Or kinky?', Roland wanted to know.
'Well, it's like I said. I always thought he was the most normal, the most typical, the most boring guy in the world, and I was right. Been around too long, I guess. He would've gone for Henrietta Swallow. Absolutely. All the way. She was everything he liked. Short, white, brunette, a little on the plump side. If she only got up in some of those uniforms he liked ...'
'Uniforms?'
'He preferred the military type', Josefa confessed.
'Well so did Henrietta, I suppose', said Roland. 'After all, she married a Sergeant. Marines, at that.'
'But Barclay was not like that himself. He was on the other end. He was the kind who liked being bossed around, not doing the bossing.'
'Henrietta, she was kind of cooped up', said Roland. 'She never got a word in edgewise long as they were in public. He ordered all her food. He told her what to wear. He decided where they went, what they did. They were out here on vacation. He said he wanted to hunt. Had a need to kill some things. And being deer season and all, I think he had a license. Couple of days he went out there by himself, didn't come back till night. During the day, Henrietta hung around and waited for Sharad. It was killing her that he was only on the night shift. It didn't fit in with her plans at all. Mr. Watson wasn't what she wanted. She was sniffing around him a bit, but he was totally missing it.'
'Joe Junior misses everything', said Josefa. 'It's so easy working for that man. I could tell him I cleaned the B wing when I didn't do it at all and he'd go tell me take a break, good job. I don't know how he does it, but he's hardly even there. Lost in his own little world of comic books and fantasy football leagues. He's on the computer all day long. If he didn't own the place, he'd've been fired long ago.'
'So he's ignoring Henrietta, and she's just trying to get him to tell her where's Sharad, but he won't do it. Maybe it's because he didn't know.'
'Me either', said Josefa. 'I don't know where he was. Do you?'
'Can I tell you a secret?' asked Roland, and Josefa nodded eagerly.
'Sharad was over at the Morales house, with Eugenia, and Sugar'.
'No!' gasped Josefa. 'In the Morales house? You sure?'
'I know it', Roland said. 'I went over there myself. Everything they say is true.'
'About the curtains?'
'Dripping blood. Continually.'
'And the lights?'
'Go on and off by themselves, any time, day or night.'
'And the kitchen?'
'Clean as a whistle'.
'My goodness', said Josefa. 'Are you messing with me? I swear. Just because I fell for that thing about the lemons, it doesn't mean ...'
'I'm not joking', Roland said. 'Sharad went there for a reason. He was still trying to get Sugar to teach him how to go invisible.'
'Sugar knows how?'
'Well, that's the thing. He does, but he doesn't know he does. After all, he's dead. It's hard to think straight when you're in that kind of condition.'
'Ghosts don't think?'
'Not most of them. They just do. And what they do is just whatever they do. You put a ghost in front of the TV set and he will sit and watch forever. You give him a book to read and he will read it. Eugenia, what she does is haunt. A lot of ghosts will do that. It's like a zombie. Most of the time, a zombie will start out tracking down people so's to eat 'em. They don't really like to eat people, it's just what they do. It's one of those unwritten rules. But if you catch a zombie or a ghost in just the right way at just the right time, and change their habits for them, you can get them on a new track, and they'll just keep going on that. I met a zombie once that only went after blue jays. Had a hell of a time considering he couldn't fly.'
'Damn', said Josefa. She was trying to keep up with all of that.
'Now Sugar, he likes donuts. And coffee. And regular TV. As long as he has those things, he'll just pretty much sit there. That's the kind of ghost he is. But that Henrietta Swallow was persistent. As soon as Sharad showed up for his shift, there she was, hanging around the lobby, trying to get him interested. He must have thought of sticking her with Barclay just so he could lose her, but he didn't do it. He was holding out. Lucky for him, the husband came back in the evening, but Henry didn't have no deer. Claimed he killed some, but no one ever saw 'em.'
'Probably took them over to Salvador's', said Josefa, 'sell the meat and get the head stuffed.'
'Never saw the heads.'
'Salvador would take his time', Josefa said', and usually ship 'em by the post.'
Mike Gramm
'Swallow's the reason Detective Mike came all the way up here from the city', Roland said. 'Henry Swallow, I mean.'
'The big fat cop?' asked Josefa.
'That's the one', said Roland.
'He was holed up with Joe Junior for a whole morning, it seemed', said Josefa. 'That was just the other day.'
'It was funny what you said about Pitts'.
'About Pitts? I thought you were talking about the cop and Henry Swallow'.
'And Pitts', said Roland. 'Detecive Gramm found himself a whole lot of trouble when he came up this way. I can tell you it's the last thing he ever wanted to do. I know that cop from way back. He's not the kind who breaks a sweat, if you know what I mean.'
'Calm under pressure?'
'No. No. Lazy. Always getting someone else to do his dirty work for him. The kind that hands out bribes like you wouldn't believe. Calling in favors. Leans on you hard. Every way he can, he gets out of doing the job for himself. He must've done something wrong for them to send him all the way up here. So the Swallow business came up. That's what I heard.'
'What'd he do?' Josefa asked. 'Is it murder?'
'Not sure they really know', said Roland. 'That's the whole problem. People had a way of disappearing, wherever that Swallow guy went. Which is why the Pitts thing came up too. Joe Junior let it slip that Pitts had disappeared. Gramm picked up on that. Even though it happened before Henry Swallow came around.'
'Like a month at least'.
'But there was correspondence. That's what Mr. Watson says. There was something tricky about it. So Gramm gets here and talks with Mr. Watson, and first the Pitts thing comes out, and then he mentions LeMaster too. You can bet Detective Mike was interested in that.'
'Don't tell me. Let me guess. He knew LeMaster from the city'.
'Oh yeah, everybody did, especially the cops. There was always trouble going on where we were from. Cops were every day. So he is thinking Swallow, Pitts, LeMaster. It can't be all coincidence. One thing they had in common; people disappear.'
'LeMaster didn't disappear.'
'His daddy did. Famous case was that. Also there was trouble with him and Sugar. Remember I was telling you?'
'The ghost that's over at Morales?'
'The very same. From trailer seventeen. So Mr. Watson tells the cop about the hunting trips, and the way he comes back with nothing, and so Detective Mike heads out to see if he can track him down. Way I heard it, he got himself lost out there in the woods.'
'Easy enough to do', Josefa said.
'He forgot to bring his partner. So he's out there all alone, driving around, probably cursing up a storm, the way that fellow does. Turns out Ricardo Jimenez finds him stranded by the beach. Car got stuck in a swamp. The cop was covered in mud and mad as anything. Ricardo Jimenez brings him back, but Swallow is still missing. Cop was pissed. Someone's going to pay, he said'
Mister Pete
'After that, Detective Mike had his sights set on Sharad as well. Some kind of a grudge, it must have been. That cop had a long history of never solving a case, of letting the bad guys get away, of fucking up the evidence. Sharad was in on some of that. There was the case of MacAfee and Mandar. Then there was the mysterious death of Kitty Lake. After that there were a bunch of domestic disturbances coming out of the trailer park. After Mister Pete showed up, there were some assaults, some broken legs. Every time, it seemed Sharad was going to get it, but he didn't. Mike said he was slippery but one of these days.'
'Really it was just his luck. Sharad never seemed to know it. He was one of those guys, you give 'em some power and they think they got some kind of special powers. You give 'em one thing and they want more and more and more.'
'I've had a lot of bosses like that', said Josefa.
'Exactly', Roland agreed. 'Little dukes and barons. He went through a long time when he thought he must be chosen by the gods for one thing or another. The man was running a trailer park and a bunch of people seemed to do whatever he told them to do. Anyway. Bad times,' concluded Roland.
'But he put all that behind him', Josefa said. 'Maybe he learned his lesson.'
'I don't know', said Roland. 'He did say he was never going to mix and match again. Made a promise. He told me so himself and that was just the other day when I saw him at Morales.'
'I know you said that you went over there. I didn't know you saw him.'
'I did. I saw Sharad, and I saw Sugar. They were hanging out in the living room, watching something terrible on TV. Sugar was sprawled out on a couch and had a plate piled high with donuts on his lap. Sharad was rocking in a rocking chair and sipping lemonade. He didn't seem surprised at all to see me.'
'Roland', said Sharad. 'You remember Mr. Sweet.'
'Sure' I said, 'How you doing, Sugar?' but Sugar only glanced at me a moment, didn't seem to know me, and went back to watching his show.
'He gets kind of glued', said Sharad. 'Anything to do with drunken celebrity whores, he's on it. They have a channel just for that.'
'What are you doing here?' I asked him, just like that. 'This place is supposed to be haunted.' That's when he pointed out the curtains dripping blood. Then he gestured over at Sugar and I remembered that he was also dead.
'How come we can see him?' I asked and Sharad just nodded and smiled.
'I've been wondering that myself', he replied. 'Last time I had him, I mean, had the pleasure of his company, I thought that he could teach me how to get invisible. That's before I found out what really happened. It explained a lot of things.'
'You mean about your dad?'
'Right', said Sharad. 'It wasn't that MacAfee had turned my dad invisible, and then gone invisible himself, like everybody said.'
'He killed your father and ran away', I told him.
'I know that now', said Sharad. 'I used to think a skill like that would come in handy. Turn invisible, I mean. Then, when the cops come looking for you ... poof! You're gone.'
'But you got to come back sometime'
'Oh I don't know', said Sharad. 'Once you're invisible, you can pretty much go anywhere you want.'
He stopped and thought about that for awhile. You could tell he was feeling a bit nostalgic for the old days.
'Those days are gone', I told him.
'I know, I know', agreed Sharad. 'I've renounced my powers too.'
'Your powers?'
'Getting people to do what's best for them', he said. 'I never could get them to do anything else. Like Sugar here. He'd never give me what I wanted. He couldn't. So I gave it up. I'm just trying to make it up to him now. I'm trying to make amends.'
'I don't suppose you really owe anybody anything', I said. 'Like your people back at Buena Vista. It was always up to them to do the things you told them. It's not your fault if somebody left his wife, or somebody else was raising their kids.'
'It was always the best for them', said Sharad. 'Did you ever see it not work out? Like with the kids. I always put them in with people who were going to take care of them better than their own folks would. I never made a mistake with that. There was never one complaint. With the grownups, sure, some people felt left out. Sometimes I couldn't find a match for everyone and someone had to go. Mister Pete got a lot of work that way.'
'I guess you did some people wrong', I said.
'Can't please everyone', he shrugged.
'Like Henry Swallow?' I suggested, and then Sharad got really mad. He jumped out of his chair and jabbed his finger at me and yelled,
'God dammit! I don't have anything to do with that man's wife, and anyone who says I do is lying!'
Ricardo Jimenez
'That's funny', said Josefa. 'Because what I know about Henry Swallow doesn't have a damn thing to do with Mister LeMaster.'
'Really?' Roland was curious. 'What do you know?'
'Well, and I got this from Salvador, mainly, who's the one guy who should know, considering his business dealings with that man. You remember I was telling you about the mail order?'
'Yeah, the taxidermist, Salvador.'
'Like most of us around here, he's got a lot of little jobs going on. Some of it has to to with sales. It just so happens Mr. Barclay, Paul, remember him?'
Roland merely nodded, and lit another cigarette. He offered one to Josefa, but she refused, waving his arm away.
'He was into the sales thing too. No accident he comes around here several times a year. Salvador, he got to know this Barclay guy, learned a thing or two from him. They get together sometimes. There's other things I should not be telling you about.'
'Oh, come on,' urged Roland. 'After all I'm telling you, you got to tell me your side too.'
'Of course I will', she laughed. 'I was only teasing you. It looks a lot like we got two sides of the same coin going on. What you don't know about Henrietta Swallow. You're thinking Mister LeMaster went and fixed her up with Barclay. Uh-uh. It's got to do with the shape of her head.'
'The what?' Roland was truly confused.
'Eugenia's witchcraft, really', said Josefa. 'Ricardo Jimenez got some spells from her. That's why Joe Junior was teasing me about the lemons. Had to do with Eugenia's potions. What she could do with certain skulls. And the magic it would bring.'
'You have totally got me lost', said Roland. 'Henrietta Swallow was going to be a shrunken head?'
'When that husband said they belonged together, he didn't just mean because their names matched. He has been up here before, and not alone. Henrietta Swallow was definitely not the first.'
'What do they do with a shrunken head? Isn't that like, New Guinea or something? Cannibals?'
'Magic is magic', Josefa shrugged, 'it doesn't matter when or where. When you're scuffling like we are up here ... First we had some fishing, but it was never enough. Never enough. After that we had the logging. Then they put a stop to that. Not good for the spotted owls, but after that it was even worse for us. Some of our people came up here for the seasonal work. Walnuts. Olives. Hothouse flowers. There's a still a bit of that left, but seasonal, you know. Tourist trade ain't much. You can see that for yourself. So we got to work some different areas, help each other out, bring in outside business. Marijuana, trucking, crystal meth. They got all that going on. Once you're busy cooking up junk, you start to wonder what else you can use a cauldron for. And then there was Eugenia, a witch from the start. She was getting up to crazy shit.'
'Before she hanged herself.'
'Before, and even after. Didn't you see her for yourself?'
'See her? No. I saw the signs, but not Eugenia.'
'Then she didn't want you to. Others see her all the time. I wonder if Mister LeMaster did.'
'He said he did', acknowledged Roland. 'He told me a bit about it.'
'Ricardo Jimenez. Her nephew. Sister's son. He got her secret recipes, her spells. Other people got involved. First Salvador, then others through the grapevine. There's a lot you'd never think of going on up here.'
'You got me', Roland said. 'I thought Sharad was into some weird stuff, but shrunken heads ...'
'Oh, that's just trinkets', said Josefa, 'Christmas decorations. Henry Swallow, he had bigger plans. Salvador didn't like him much. Said he was bad news. Figured the cops would come around because of him. Looks like he was right.'
Erik “Peanut” Haskins
'The other thing is Swallow was the go-between between the Mexicans and the hippies.'
'Hippies?'
'Sure. Who do you think is buying all that dope?', Josefa said. 'They come here in their beater cars, bunch of 'em all crammed in together, girls, boys, you can't hardly tell which ones are which. Got some crazy names. Rainbow Sky. Sunflower Elf. One big fellow name of Peanut used to come around a lot. Looked like a bruiser but he wasn't much. Sometimes he would tag around with Swallow. Seemed to me was scared to death of us. Imagine that! Little Ricardo Jimenez, not more than five foot four and lame in one leg from the war, and this giant Haskins fellow, that's his name, he would tremble and shake like a leaf. Swallow'd smack him on the head - Swallow's even bigger you know - and Haskins looked like he's about to cry. Some smuggler he was!'
'They just come up on drug runs?' Roland asked.
'No, not just for that', said Josefa. 'For awhile they were coming for Eugenia too. She had 'em convinced she was like some kind of goddess. Satanic stuff, you know. They'd be carving their symbols on shit, sacrificing little tiny birds and other animals that never did anybody any harm. She would dress up all in black, lipstick, nails and all, and they'd smoke a lot of dope and dance around their campfires, wailing. Least it sounded like wailing to me', Josefa cackled.
'That must have been when Eugenia was, you know.'
'Before she killed herself', Josefa added.
'Not sure she totally meant to', she continued. 'It's possible somebody just screwed up there. Those kids were pretty much high all the time. Hard to know exactly what they were thinking, if anything. But anyway, there was a whole collection of them, and Swallow was the one who showed 'em all around. Spoke a little Spanish, even. Got to know the area pretty well. After awhile, he was coming up by himself. That's when that crazy shit started happening. With the heads, I mean. Girls as fresh as daisies, but dumb as rocks I guess.'
'Hard to believe', said Roland. 'Nobody was on to that?'
'Well, it was mostly rumors, you know. Hard to know what you ought to believe, especially when it's coming from Salvador. He'll tell you a thousand different ways he lost his little finger. And just because you never saw those girls again it don't mean nothing. So take it as you want.'
'Swallow always had a different girl. That's what I'm getting at. Always made for each other too. Like every man, so full of shit. No offense, I mean'
'None taken', Roland laughed.
'Like this one guy, hippie dude, hair down below his ass. This was one of Swallow's sidekicks. He always had one around him. This one they called Sherlock. Don't know why. Looked like every other loser of that time. He was such a talker, going on and on about all the revolutions and how everything was going to change, and he was gonna be in on it. Used to brag about something called a micro founder stock he had. I remember it because I asked him if he meant the founding fathers, you know, George Washington, and he just laughed and laughed. He said just wait, man. I am going to be so fucking rich someday!'
'Doesn't sound like much of a hippie'
'Not really, no. I think he was in it for the girls. It's like anytime, anywhere, guys will do just about anything for pussy.' Josefa burst out laughing. Roland smiled and shook his head.
'Revolution', he sighed. 'They'll say just about anything too.'
'Ladies went for that. Swallow used to talk the line as well. Later he just talked cocaine and magic and witchcraft and potions. He was getting pretty creepy. People started backing off. Salvador kept up with him because he was all business, but the younger folk, I think they were afraid of him. Started showing up with guns, and bigger and bigger bikes. The scene was getting ugly.'
'Around that time', said Roland, 'there was bad stuff everywhere. Instead of peace and love, it was everything turned out phony. All the big talk was a fake. Hippies, going home to mama. Vets were getting the shaft. Pretty dreams turned into shit.'
'Around here it was live and let live', Josefa said, 'as long as you had the cash. And Swallow was still the money man. Sidekicks came and went. Swallow, you knew he would always return.'
Pepita
'That's what Detective Mike said too', interrupted Roland, 'When he got back from his adventure in the swamp. He just plopped down in the lobby out there and said, I might as well wait for Swallow, because that bastard's due to come back. Guess it was some kind of joke.'
'Got it', said Josefa, with a twinkle in her eye. Coming from California she knew better than he did.
'So Mike was just taking up the sofa and he didn't care. I stopped by to say hello. He was pretty surprised to see me there, but then he said, seems like the whole damn city's up here sometimes, and I said, well, the highway don't go nowhere else, and we both laughed. We got to chatting, he was asking how long I been up here. I tell him. Then he says, I got this thing, you know. I can always spot a crook. I said, I know, you were famous for that, man. And it's true. Remember I said he was lazy? Well, he was, but he also had a nose for crime. Called it his Spidey Sense. And it was tingling something fierce, he said.
'Seems to me that everyone I've met up here's involved in something shady. Even the lady that does the laundry.'
'He was talking about me?'
'I think so', Roland laughed. 'I said, what do you think she's done?'
'I don't know for sure', he said, 'but she's got a look in her eye. She's taken money under the table. She's done some favors for people. Probably been a carrier of one illegal substance or another.'
'Holy moly', declared Josefa. 'He really said all that?'
'Just that', said Roland. 'And he went on. He knew about Ricardo Jimenez. He said, guy that helped me out's some kind of grower. Maybe not pot, but something. Though it probably is dope, around here. Then he went on about Salvador. That guy, he said, is into very shady stuff. Even Joe Junior. He asked me what I knew about the guy who owns this place. I said, nothing. Mr. Watson's normal as they come, I said, and Detective Mike laughed. Don't tell him I said so, Mike told me, but I think he's got some card games going on, and probably prostitution.'
'My God', declared Josefa. 'How did he know? Did he ask about Pepita?'
'No, no, he didn't have nothing', Roland said, 'He told me so himself. He only had his Spidey Sense. And he laughed and said, I can't be going and arresting everybody in the whole damn town. That's your sheriff's job!'
'As if Sheriff Lucey ever bothered anyone', said Josefa. 'He's the biggest crook of all.'
'I think that Mike knew that', Roland replied. 'He went on to say he was only interested in Swallow. Swallow, and maybe Sharad. He was suspicious about LeMaster being here. Kept asking me when his shift started. Where he could find him. How he'd been acting. Lots of questions but I didn't give him any answers. None of my business, you know. I always minded my own. Never one to interfere.'
'It doesn't pay', said Josefa. 'Got to live and let live. It's the only way that makes sense.'
'So', Roland paused. He looked at her across the table for a long moment and then he asked,
'So, what about Pepita?'
At this, Josefa burst out in hysterics. She tried to talk but choked and sputtered and nearly fell off her chair. Roland jumped up and came around to steady her. He was actually worried the old lady might have a fit and hurt herself. Finally she managed to calm down, and looking up at him, she nodded and said,
'It's true.'
Roland looked disappointed. He had a crush on the maid, and didn't like finding out she was a whore.
'Everybody here has got to get some income on the side', Josefa muttered encouragingly, and Roland, taking his seat again, shook his head as if to say he understood.
'Don't be too hard on her', said Josefa.
'No, don't worry', he replied. 'I just like her that much, you know?'
'You're a sweet man', said Josefa. 'Pepita? She's not your kind.'
'I know', he said. 'I know.'
'But tell me', Josefa said, 'About Detective Mike. Did Swallow ever come back that night? Did Mister LeMaster show up?'
'Well, Mike passed out around eleven. No one wanted to wake him up. LeMaster never did come in. Maybe he had the night off. I don't know. Mr. Watson stayed all night.'
'Yeah, sometimes he does that', Josefa said. 'It seems that man can go a week without getting even an hour of sleep.'
'Swallow, he came back. Looked down at the sleeping cop and laughed. Looked over at Mr. Watson and said, do you think I should leave my card? Mr. Watson, he didn't say anything, so Swallow just walked off chuckling.
Sylvia Marquez
'He wasn't the only one waiting up for Swallow', Josefa said. 'The woman was too. Henrietta. Every night he'd tried to sneak in late, but she would be there waiting. They would have the loudest fights. I mean, out in public he was the boss, and she would do whatever he said whenever anybody else was around, but get them behind closed doors and he was all 'please baby please' and she was all 'no no no'. You know I told you how she carried on like she was his first and only, and they weren't even married.'
'Really?'
'Yeah, they just signed in that way. She wasn't even named Henrietta Swallow. She was Henrietta Hagen. Planned on being Swallow. Talked about the wedding all the time. Wanted to have his baby. Four of 'em in fact. Two boys and two girls, alternating. She was on that all the time. He was 'oh baby I don't know. I don't think I'm ready', all that kind of crap a man will say who just wants that one thing he wants but has to put up with all the other stuff.'
'I thought you said it was the shape of her head'
'Yeah, he had plans for her, but he had to wait. Preparations were under way. In the meantime it was the usual boy-girl stuff. That was why it was kind of funny and kind of sad at the same time, you know? Here he was, plotting the end of her days, and there she was, making him go to eat at Cormorants every day, and you know how lousy the food is there!'
'Ugh. Please. I don't even want to think about it'
'She was a lot like Eugenia that way. Down to the little details, but totally missing the big stuff. You could have said Eugenia! Your pants are on fire! And she'd look down and remember that she forgot to ask you if you liked her shoes.'
'Crazy', said Roland'
'Well, you never know for sure about some people', she replied. 'Salvador might do just about anything, and Ricardo Jimenez did get those potions from Eugenia.'
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