Carver Pike - Scalp

Tonight, the guys were with the rest of their new friends at Cloud 9. The ‘Circle of Hope’ they liked to call it. It was a circle of lawn chairs and coolers, but who were they to burst the trailer-bubble.

The truth was, people here were nice to Peter and Kev. Not everyone in Clydesville seemed to appreciate their relationship. In fact, it seemed downright frowned upon. Not that they walked around holding hands and trying to rub it in anyone’s face, but they were legally married, and they hated having to hide it from the locals. At Cloud 9, they didn’t have to.

Right now, they sat side by side at that lawn-chair ring, staring at the small fire going at the circle’s center. Peter was excited about life. This was all he needed. His mom, Pam, was seated across from them, smoking a blunt with her friend, Saucy. An ex-stripper with big, hair-sprayed hair that looked like a do straight out of the 80s, Saucy liked to joke that any young man who was willing could get the “sauce.” Peter did not want that sauce, but it didn’t stop her from grinding her ass against him every chance she got. For now, she was busy getting high with his mom.

Kenny Chesney played on a tiny boombox and the song made him feel like they should be sitting on a beach right now. He should have his toes in the cool water. He should be drinking a margarita or a piña colada instead of a canned wine cooler.

Glancing to his right, he couldn’t help admiring the way Kev stared at the fire. Light played at his lips and Peter, as he often did, thought how lucky he was to be with a man as handsome as his husband. His hair was always perfect, high up on his head with perfectly manscaped sideburns. His brown eyes sparkled, and he laughed with such ease.

Back home, in Jersey, he’d been different. He’d always seemed stressed about life. Bills were piling up, their families wanted little to do with them, and there was nothing to do for fun other than going to a nightclub or a casino.

This. This outdoor, fresh air, West Virginia life was the best.

“Anybody else getting hungry?” Del, an old man with multicolored rubber bands keeping his beard in braids, asked as he stood up and raised his beer as if in toast.

The others in the group raised their beers. Kev lifted his glass of whiskey. Peter followed suit and hoisted his canned wine up to join them.

“To hunger?” Kev asked, jokingly.

“To fuckin’ burgers, my friend!” Del announced.

“To burgers!” some of them called out, including Peter and Kev.

“To fuckin’ burgers,” Saucy yelled a little too late.

Del staggered as he walked toward his trailer and his wife, a blonde woman his age with pink feathers roach clipped to her hair, yelled, “You’re gonna bust your ass again, Del. Be careful.”

“Be careful with our food!” Peter’s mom added.

It was a fine night. Most of their nights were. Every once in a while Dan and Casey would smoke too much or drink too much or pop too many pills and they’d end up throwing punches at each other. The two twenty-somethings now ate on only Styrofoam. Real dishes can only take so much high flying.

At the moment, the two young wildlings seemed madly in love. Dan lifted the brim of his Mountaineers ball cap and leaned down to kiss Casey.

Even the psychos are calm tonight. Speaking of psychos—

Lizzy Pete wasn’t crazy, but she didn’t interact with the rest of them much. Her husband had gone hunting with his cousin, Carl. Now, Carl was a crazy son of a bitch. He didn’t seem to like Peter or Kev too much. He always gave them nasty looks and made gay comments and told gay jokes from time to time, always glancing over at them as if to gauge their level of shame. There was none here. Both guys were proud of their love for one another.

Andre wasn’t bad at all. He’d sit and hang out with the rest of them. He didn’t drink because he was a recovering alcoholic, but he’d still sit by the fire and gossip with the rest of them. He was a nice guy. Too bad he hadn’t come back from that hunting trip.

“Hey, Peter,” Lizzy said softly as she sat down on top of the cooler to his left.

Peter was surprised she decided to come so close. Oftentimes she’d stay inside the trailer while her husband joined them outside. He said she didn’t feel well most of the time. She suffered from terrible migraines.

“How’s your head?” Peter asked.

“You know… same ol’ same ol,’ but I’m dealing.”

“I can imagine it’s rough. Still no word about Andre?”

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes. “It’s not like him, you know?”

“What do you think happened?” Peter wasn’t trying to be an asshole by asking the question. He simply didn’t know what else to say to the woman. Her husband’s disappearance would be the only thing on her mind, so why dodge the subject?

“I’m afraid to say,” she replied. “The police said maybe a bear got him, but not my Andre. He was a crack shot and they said his gun was missing too. It could’ve gotten thrown from the truck, but they would have found it by now.”

“Bear,” Peter repeated, shaking his head.

He couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Crashing your truck, tumbling into a ravine, and then having your mangled body dragged out by a bear, only to be chewed up like a steak dinner. That had to be one of the worst ways to go. Maybe right after the pain of being burned at the stake. That would be the worst. Feeling the flames start at your feet, licking at your arches and heels, slowly climbing its way up the rest of your body while you can do nothing but stand there and scream.

Peter got the chills and shook gently.

“What is it?” Lizzy asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just a thought.”

“What do you think happened to him?” she asked.

He hadn’t been expecting that question. Of course, he’d thought about it, but he didn’t know which version would be the least horrible. One came to him and he figured it wasn’t as bad as the rest, so he went with it. “Maybe he was flung from his truck and hit his head so hard he got amnesia. Then he woke up and started walking.”

“Just started walking?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where would he go?”

“I don’t know. There has to be a cabin or something nearby. Maybe an old ranger station. He’d go somewhere and maybe he wouldn’t understand what happened. So he’d just sit. They’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

“All I do is worry.”

“Hey, we’ve got company!” Del yelled as he stepped out from around the side of his trailer carrying a plate of beef patties. “I may need to make some more.”

“Who is that?” Saucy called out.

Everyone looked toward the asphalt path that circled the inside of the trailer park, making it easy for the mailman to drop off their mail. The entire place was one big circle with one entry and exit. Cloud 9 was a mountain community, up on its own hill, and its residents were always keen on company.

“Is that ol’ Jeb?” one of the other men seated around the fire asked. “I’d recognize that dirty-ass flannel jacket of his anywhere.

“I think that is Jeb,” Del said, shielding his eyes as if the porch light beside him would help him see the silhouetted figures moving their way a little better.

Peter counted four of them. There was definitely a hefty man, then what appeared to be a woman, a teenage boy, and a little girl.

“Jeb, what you walkin’ up here for?” Del called out. “Car trouble?”

Jeb didn’t answer. Peter wasn’t very familiar with this Jeb guy they all seemed to know, but he thought it was quite rude for him to ignore everyone. Everybody in town was polite, so this was a little strange.