Part 1: What went wrong in Locust Ridge — ch. 2
By: Sean Gee
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, Crime, Fiction, Serial Fiction

October 30th 1997 — Locust Ridge — Montana

The sombre eyes of those experiencing loss littered the graveyard. Living statues stood among statues of the dead. A broken family now worryingly low in numbers, just mother and son remained, stood central in the dreary ensemble. The sky grey and dark, reluctant to let the day take over from the night.

“Darling don’t leave me.” Her voice quivered.

“I’m here Mom.” He said. However, her lack of reaction told him she wasn’t talking to him. His head dropped, his long black hair falling over his features as he felt the loss of two parents in one go. Her one hand on the coffin and her other lifelessly by her side an aching distance between hers and his. He a boy of years that wouldn’t allow him to crave his mother's hand or embrace but too young to know how else to handle the pain.

A loved figure in the town many were gathered around as his coffin sunk painfully slow into the cold early morning ground. Mourners protected in coats dried cold tears with their winter scarves fresh out of the closet as fall drew on.

“Cathryn,” a gravelly voice said behind them. “It’s a horror, my dear. How are you? Is there anything I can do?” The big man loomed over the pair a cigarette burning between his fingers His brow drawn down but in what seemed more like anger than empathy. Cathryn buried herself into his chest and heaved deep pained breaths in his embrace. They boy yet further isolated in the cold.

“Asshole.” She looked up her eyes burning and her voice no longer weak but knife sharp. “Did they find him?”

He eyed her cautiously before turning to the boy. “Ryan, how are you, my boy.” The boy was reluctant in reply. He shrugged, his eyes red, and turned away from the strong unmoved figure before him.

“Rick’s gonna stick around for a little bit to help us out,” The woman said, her eyes questioning the big man, “right?”

“Yes.” He replied, “I’ll be around.”

“Thanks,” Ryan replied his aching unchanged by the cold display of support.

Rick turned back to the mother turning his big back on the boy. He put his arm around the woman and began to lead her out of the graveyard, they followed the crowd leaving the early morning nightmare. He walked more briskly than she expected pulling her further from the young boy trailing behind them eyes scorning the pair.

“Yes, they did find him.” He finally answered her question. “Dobby tracked him down. Wasn’t difficult, drunk fuck barely made it a mile down the road. Crashed again and they found him throwing up on the side of the road, concussion.” He sucked on the cigarette thirstily and exhaled.

“So?” Her bitter eyes waited as if a predator watching her prey stumble into view.

“They’ve got him now, he’s up at the house.”

Her lips turned up in a sick smile. “Thanks.” She said. “You were always there for him, thanks for sticking around for me.”

“I wouldn’t leave you.” He said, his hand squeezing her shoulder familiarly.

Beneath black curls of hair, the boy's eyes burned angrily and he turned his head and beat his own path through the graveyard and into the woods away from the street to which the crowd bore. He pushed through the dewy undergrowth, feet growing damp, but he did not feel it. Nor did he look back.

Approaching the row of cars on the sidewalk Cathryn looked back for the boy. “Ryan?” She called, upon not seeing him. Deep in the woods by now he didn’t hear her call, nor would it have changed his direction if he had. She looked back at the big man worried.

“He’ll be fine.” He said.

“Will he? We hadn’t even told him yet. He doesn’t know the way things are, how’s he going to react to finding out his dad’s dead, what his dad did, and that it’s his responsibility now all in one week. I don’t think he’s ready.”

“It’s the way it has to be Cathryn.” He replied sternly. He took a deep breath of smoke eyes distant, appreciative of the new challenges posed. He dropped the remains of the cigarette to the dewy grass where it extinguished quickly. “They’ll be making a visit I have no doubt as well.” He looked around them at crowds gathering and scanned the faces “Could be here now for all I know, always changing people up, doubt the Father will come down himself.” He eyed the woman seriously. “Ryan will have to be prepared when they come,” his hand flinched as if ready to bring a cigarette to his mouth that no longer existed between his fingers “you know what they’re like. We better tell him soon. Tonight I think. That would be best.”

“You’ll be there?” Her voice was weak again the sharpness no longer present.

“I’ll be there.” He opened the door to a big black car, a long bonnet gleaming in the morning sun now breaking through the clouds and dark windows all around. He removed his big coat, a thick grey shirt pulling scruffily out of his belt as he did, and threw it into the back seat of the car. “I’ll come by seven or eight ‘ish. Gotta go check on the boys first, make sure they are getting the job done.”

Her brow furrowed angrily at this and she nodded. He leaned down kissing the top of her head before disappearing behind the dark windows as the door slammed. He pulled out from the curb and drove away leaving her alone in the crowd. She accepted a few condolences but was pained to stick around to see everyone off. After hugs from one too many people, she ducked out of the crowd, bowing her head to avoid any further inviting gazes. She began to walk down the long sidewalk under the shade of the large fir trees.

The flimsy door swung back and he did not care to shut it completely he wouldn’t be staying long. The autumn air had begun to grow warmer as the morning wore on. It blew gently through the crack in the door now. He walked through the empty kitchen and out into the back porch, the bed was empty. He grabbed the leash from the counter and called out.

“Dexter.” He called out in the darkness.

A shaggy black lab with hair not unlike the boy's own came from out of another dark doorway and approached the boy easily. He bent down, drawing level with its eye line and the softness of the dog's eyes eased the lines in the boy's brow. He attached the lead and left the house, quiet and empty again.

In silence, he followed the dog down the street. He passed houses tucked into pockets of tall reddening trees. It was quiet, he looked down the row of empty houses the kids at school and parents at work while walked the same way as always without any real purpose to it.

The soft grassy verges turned into sidewalks and the streets became busier with cars as he came into town. The high street flowed with its gentle ebb of sleepy shoppers. The picturesque street sat in the shadow of the large stone backdrop painted with the trees on the lower slopes of the mountains behind. The beauty of it escaped his accustomed eyes which remained low under the long hair.

He pulled back on the dog as it tried to hurry on. “Dexter, here.” He called. The dark eyes looked back at him and obeyed. He pushed open the door of the cafe and took a seat in the window. Dexter curled up under the window passive and tired.

He eyed the girl behind the counter who acknowledged him and stuck out her hand displaying all fingers and mouthed ‘five minutes’ across the cafe to him.

He nodded. And sat quietly looking out the window. He looked out at the main street. His whole world tied up in a road. From his old school, all the way down one way towards home and the other out to the rail tracks and the high way. He thought of Summer getting in her car and speeding off down that highway to college and never coming back. What escape could he find from this town without her fantastical visions for the future? He stroked Dexter’s shaggy head. The dog placid and tame. A beast happy with its small life unburdened with knowledge of a larger world and the more painful knowledge of the likelihood of never seeing it.

He thought back to the rail tracks. He could sneak onto a train and disappear. Could he leave his mom like that? She’s already left me he thought, or might as well have. She would be all alone, this town emptier still than before. Everyone was getting out of here one way or the other. Even dad. His world seemed barely different since he had been gone, guess that's what happens when he seems not really there in the first place he thought. Besides what would he do if he got on that train, end up in some other shitty town in another shitty job. Maybe he would make it to some big city somewhere but that just meant a smaller shit hole to live in.

“Hey, you ready?” Summer said. Pulling on a tatty lightweight green jacket.

He turned to look at the sudden interruption. She saw his eyes burning red his head barely rising to look up at her. “You okay?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said collecting himself, clearing his throat. “Daydreaming.” People usually wouldn’t admit to waking nightmares.

She paused and looked at his red eyes that would not meet hers. “Right,” She said, “come on then.”

The trees were still thick as they approached the edge. He could see the view through the gaps but the trail continued to wind through the trees. They were quiet. It was peaceful though, silence was never uncomfortable between them, he liked that. They sat with their legs over the ridge, feet hanging over the trees below, the town tucked within them barely visible from there. He liked that too.

“Here.” She said. She passed him a roughly rolled joint, soft smoke flickering upwards. He dragged the smoke deep into his lungs and let it escape lazily.

“When do you leave?” He asked, afraid of the emotion he may not be able to control upon her response.

“Tenth of September.” She replied her eyes observant. He glanced up and saw her watching him. He hid his eyes again quickly afraid of what they might give up.

“Excited?”

“Yes. I need to get out of here.” She blew smoke over the town below and noticed his eyes downcast. “You should come to visit, you can stay as long as you want, as long as you can stand the couch anyway”

“I will. How long is the drive?”

“Long. You think your mum will let you take the car?”

He shrugged. “What do your parents think about it?”

She looked away. The joint burned down filling their lungs and warming them. The afternoon drew on and it was cool. They moved closer together. Ryan led comfortably his legs free and his body melting into the soft grass. But his mind was uncomfortable. He thought back to his Mom alone at home. Were her eyes cold and hard or warm like they were in his memory? He wondered whether that was memory or imagination. He could feel himself falling into a fog, his mind hazy creating cloudy images of his mother looming out of the dark, shadows falling across her face. They made him sad and he couldn’t stop.

“Hey.” Her voice calming the ripples of his disturbed mind. “You wanna hear?” She asked waving a notebook across his eye line. He shaded his eyes from the sun to see. With a new interest to focus his mind, it cleared like morning fog burnt off by the sun.

“Yes.” He said and pushed himself up. She began to read and he listened, really listened.

“Wind blows soft and suns gentle warmth …” She began. He admired her writing. She read a lot, books that he couldn’t understand. He tried and wanted to but he couldn’t. He thought of himself and it felt sadly empty. He wished he had something, writing like Summer or numbers or something. Something that could get him out of here. He got angry at himself as jealousy seeped through him. “… I miss you when you are in your world and mine feels that much colder.” She finished and looked up at him earnestly waiting.

His smile was honest but his eyes faltered. “It’s amazing. You better write a book one day, and one that even people like me could read.” He laughed and she did too, they both knew it hurt him, but it wasn’t about him at that moment.

They looked at each other a while, understanding one another. He leaned in and kissed her. He enjoyed the feeling of her lips but didn’t linger. He opened his eyes and she smiled at him empathetically.

“Ryan,” she didn’t know what to say.

“I know, it's okay, I just wanted to…”

“I know.” She paused, then smiled warmly and laughed.

He was embarrassed then but happy. Happy he did it and happy she knew. He knew she always had known but he had to do it. For himself, just to make sure.

“Hey.” She said and went back into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper folded in half. “For when you come.”

He opened it and it read ‘112 Sasa Street, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan.’ He smiled and put it in his pocket careful to push it deep down. “So they’re not happy about it?”

“I don’t know if they care to be honest.” She tugged the straps of her bag. “They initially put up a bit of a fight, there's colleges closer and what's wrong with Locust Ridge, that sort of thing. Now, I don’t know. They don’t see the world outside so maybe if I leave,” She paused, “you know what they’re like, sometimes you’re best off without them.” Silence uncomfortable now. “I’m sorry.” She failed to say anymore.

“It’s okay, I don’t know that I ever really had him, you know.” Too composed for a boy of his age on the day of his father's funeral. “He never seemed there, he was there but, I don’t know.” He stopped, thinking back, she waited. “Like he had something else taking up his thoughts, something that hurt. I keep picturing mom though. I see her eyes warm and comforting me but the problem is I don’t know if I’m remembering that or, making it up.” He looked at her and she looked sad. “Sorry.” He said. “I won’t be here forever.”

“I know that.”

He looked up and saw the sun falling lower. She saw the same thing and silently they began to ready themselves.

He finally made it back to the house and crunched up the gravel track as Summer walked away behind him. Past the fence the track curved round to the house. On the side of the hill perched as if in the trees themselves the deck stretched out from the second floor over the clearing ten feet below. His mom's car was parked below the deck. He walked past it to the steps that kinked up to the house and let himself inside.

He sank into the chair next to the window in his room his eyes focused on nothing at all out in the woods. His high began to fade and with it the bland reality of life set in and he sat in a daze. The wall banged behind him and he felt the waft of dust fly from the cracks of the wooden planks.

“Mom?” He called without response. Standing he put his head out his doorway and scanned the surroundings for signs of her. “Mom?” He called again, “You alright?” His curiosity began to rise as he wondered where she was, he expected her to go straight home from the funeral. He came out into the hallway and worked down towards her door by the window at the end. The sun had gone down and it was dark there. He could hear her moving. “Mom, what are you doing, I heard a bang are you alright?” He knocked on the door. She didn’t respond. He worried, thoughts he knew weren’t real filled his mind but he had to make sure. He didn’t know how hard she was taking his Dad’s death, she would never talk to him.

“Mom, I’m coming in.” He said as he knocked again and turned the knob pushing the door open into the dim room. The door half-open he saw the big figure filling the bed and saw his shocked face as he turned to the creaking door. Ryan slammed it shut again.

He backed up hitting the opposite wall, the back of his head falling back into the cracking wood. He stared at the white door as if seeing through it and wishing not to. He looked away back down the corridor. His feet followed his eyes and he moved down toward the living room in a haze. He stopped and looked back. ‘Fuck him!’ He thought. ‘That prick can’t take advantage of her like that.’ He pictured him holding his mum at the funeral this morning and grew angry his heart beating.

For a moment his body grew strong and he felt his muscles needing to receive and deliver pain, he wanted to feel real and involved. His body nearly forcing itself back down the corridor from craving alone.

Logic began to flood the fire in his muscles as he pictured the damage the much larger Rick would inevitably deal. He felt ashamed as he instead turned for the door. He nearly made it before she grabbed him.

He turned on feeling her hand on his shoulder.

“Ryan, where’ve you been, you…”

“With Summer.” He interrupted and they moved together with an uncomfortable distance between them back towards the kitchen. “What about you?”

“What?”

‘What have you done since the…?” He asked. His eyes like opposing magnets to hers, both terrified of acknowledging what he just witnessed.

“Just, you know, sorting his stuff…” She looked up and realised the boy wasn’t paying attention anyway and her voice trailed off. She dragged through her brain to come up with something else to say, anything to make the sickly silence disappear. The door slam beat her to it and he appeared at the end of the corridor, the bulky frame looming down towards them.

“Hey, kid.” He said as he stopped in the middle of the room. His shirt stuck to his hot skin. “Where ya been?” He asked.

“Why do you care?” Ryan replied, now on full defence, his body tense as if ready to react to anything. He watched Rick as he grabbed a big jacket led over the arm of the couch and put it on. “You leaving?”

Rick looked at Ryan's Mom. “Cathryn and I need to talk to you Ryan.” Ryan looked between Rick and his Mom. “I know it’s been a really tough week but you need to know something and we need you to listen and understand what we are saying.” He was serious.

Ryan looked amused at the stern pair. “You think I’m gonna sit here and listen to you right now? You may have gotten under her skin already.” The venom in his voice made her wince. “But you’re not coming here and telling me what you need.”

“Ryan…” He started.

“Today, seriously Rick? Whoever’s interest you think you have in mind it’s not mine. And clearly, you don’t have a clue what she needs right now, how could you do that? On the day of his funeral, you’re disgusting.”

Rick's hand seized Ryan's neck with chilling ease and Ryan tensed further, his breath tight between Rick's strong fingers. “Rick!” Cathryn gasped and caught his eye as he glanced at her, his eyes burning into hers. He dropped the boy's throat immediately.

“Cathryn,” He started.

“Fuck you,” Ryan said attempting to reclaim any sort of authority his face red his eyes low. He turned to the door needing to escape. She blocked his way.

“Ryan, I can’t let you go.” Still refusing to look at her he could feel the heat in his cheeks.

“Mom, what are you doing, let me go.”

“We really do need you to listen, Ryan, please, we need you right now.”

He looked up and saw her eyes. They begged him to stay and his resolve against the plea was weak. He turned back into the room and slumped into the couch. He glared up at the two figures looking down at him and waited. Finally, they spoke.