Tom Piccirilli - November Mourns

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you upset that he doesn’t get to read them?”

“He does read them. He quotes from them when he comes to me.”

“But you said you thought I was him. Don’t you know who he is?”

She kissed him.

A storm now shrieked outside, blustery winds tearing at the clapboards and tossing shingles. The rafters groaned and creaked furiously. When he’d moved Tushie Kline up to reading poems, Shad had to explain about metaphor and symbolism. How what happened in a man was paralleled in the heavens. As above, so below.

Tushie Kline marveled at that, and asked, “Like the depletion of the ozone could be a symbol for man’s spiritual bankruptcy? Ain’t that some fucked-up shit right there?”

“Mags,” Shad whispered, and scanned the corners of the room searching for her. “I’m losing you.”

“Who’s that?” Jerilyn asked. “A girl? Mags?”

“My sister.”

“Losing her? Now? But didn’t you say she was dead?”

“Yes.”

“How’d she die?”

“I don’t know.”

Staring at him in the darkness, Jerilyn stirred and crept across the bed, reaching for him. She took his hand and tried to pull him to her, but he wouldn’t go.

“Why are you here, Shad Jenkins?”

“Tell me everything your father didn’t.”

She curled and twined among the blankets, and her breasts swayed and her eyes lit and he wanted to fall on her. He drew back a step.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Like what?”

“About what goes on here.”

“He told you the truth… well, except for about the snakes drawing out the poison in Great-great Grandpa Saul’s leg. That’s not so. After a few days trapped down in the mine he ate the snakes. His leg was crushed and taken off by the cave-in so he ate his leg too. If you can call eating bits of yourself being a cannibal, then he was one.”

“Goddamn.”

She turned over in the pink light, and the glow worked itself against her skin and Shad started to sweat again. “But Daddy was right, the snakes did help save Saul. From starvation and thirst anyways.”

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He moved to her and she drew him down on the bed, wrapping her arms around his back as he kissed her. In a minute it became much rougher, and her laughter grew harsh and dizzying.

“My, you’re a feisty one, Mr. Jenkins,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d have the energy for another go, considering the day you’ve had.”

Something broke deep within the center of his chest and a small moan escaped him. He champed it short for fear he wouldn’t stop until he was wailing. He bent her to his will and buried his face in her throat and her unstoppable pulse snapped savagely against his tongue.

Grappling sticker bushes pivoted wildly outside the window, scratching at the glass like manic children wanting in. The heavy rain sheeted and lapped across the pane. It formed peering liquid faces that glowered and sneered from all angles, looking in at him, scrutinizing, hating.

WHEN HE AWOKE NEXT HE WAS ON HIS FEET AGAIN, with dawn inching through the wet branches framed in the morning light. Rebi was naked and creeping closer on all fours.

She rose up like a rattler, arms at her sides, and touched his belly once with her lips.

She looked up from under a fan of dark hair hanging in her eyes, and she kissed him harder, raked him with her teeth. Her expression remained the same as the first moment he’d met her. Insolent, petulant. He didn’t mind it as much now since there was a cunning in there hidden among wayward promises.

The rain had eased back to a drizzle. She reached up and gripped his wrists, casually holding them the way she’d held the ringnecks in her hands. She bit deeper, trying to draw blood but hadn’t managed to yet.

The room was now filled with a sullen blue light from where she’d thrown her skirt over the lamp. She glanced up at him, released his skin, and said, “So, you’re a night walker, are you?”

“Yes.” You couldn’t really play coy when you were wandering around in somebody else’s house with your goodies hanging loose.

“I smell my sister on you. You have at her?”

“We were together. Where is she?”

“Not here. I knew she’d be along quick. That’s fine. You ain’t him but you can have me too, if you want.”

The living fire of his rage carried him across the room and back again to her until she was staggering in his embrace. He tightened his hold on her until she let out a heated grunt of pain. “Who? Who the hell are you girls waiting for?”

“You’re gonna hurt me.”

“You might be right.”

“Do it. You can if you want. Hurt me, it’s all right.”

“Tell me his name.”

“He ain’t got a name that matters, not one worth saying. We’re here together and I want you right now.”

His temper could only save him for so much longer. In another minute he wouldn’t be able to talk. “I want to know about him. Why he’s so special. Why you won’t say his name.”

“What’s it any of your concern? Why do you care so much?”

“It might have something to do with my sister,” he told her, feeling farther away from Mags than ever.

“How can that be?” Rebi asked. “You surely are out of your head.”

“Do you write to him too?”

“Nah, I ain’t much good with pen and letters like Jerilyn. ’Sides, all I need do is talk into the southern wind, and he hears me.”

Shad let out a bark of derisive laughter. “And you think I’m cracked, eh?”

“More than most, I’d venture. But that’s all right. I’ll take some of your pain away for a time.” She slid against his bare flesh, smoothing her breasts into him, using her nails on his skin.

“What the hell do you want with me?”

She reared as if he’d just backhanded her across the nose. “I’d think that was pretty damn clear.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not.”

“Are you afflicted? I got my own pains too.”

He checked the corners of the room, searching for his departed mother or his lost sister. It was distressing to learn that you couldn’t make your way through the world without somebody dead to show you the way.

The seeping, dour blue light only made Rebi appear more alive to him, full of grim and intense charms. He looked down and saw fine traces in the dust on the floor on the far side of the bed. He hadn’t stepped there.

Grabbing the footboard, he pulled the bed aside.

Jerilyn’s body lay on the floor, as if she were only sleeping, with a slight smile on her lips.

Shad whimpered, “God no.”

He kneeled and brought his hand to her throat, where he’d buried his face only hours before. He was so cold that for a moment she felt much warmer than him. Her icy blue flesh turned a terrible red where he touched her.

“Did you do that?” Rebi whispered with an animal excitement. No sadness or fear, just her breath quickly becoming a rapid panting. “You kill her?”

“No.”

“You must’ve.”

“I’m telling you no,” he said, wondering and despairing.

“You sure about that, Shad Jenkins?” Her mouth pressed against his ear, and she licked him.

“For Christ’s sake, Rebi, shut up.”

“Don’t boss me. I don’t take guff from killers.”

He dragged the bed aside even farther, seeing that the dust had other trails in it, spelling out words.

Run

Now

“Is that from him?” Shad asked. “The one you were expecting?”

“I don’t know. He don’t write me ever. Sounds like it’s for you though. Maybe you wrote it yourself.”

He checked his fingers to see if they were dirty. He couldn’t tell in the dim light. Not even after he’d tore her skirt from the lamp and held his hands out in front.