Something_Violent Read online

  This time, she walked toward my car, hips swaying. The knife in her hand matched the gloppy wetness on her skin. Matted hair draped her face, glued to her shoulders in thick layers. The only places that weren’t painted in blood were her eyes. Dark and lurid, they gazed at me. A wide bar of white showed at her mouth when she smiled. She held up a small wad of cash, shaking it.

  Getting out of the car, I stood behind my open door. Jody stopped on the other side, dropping the roll of cash on the hood.

  “Can I borrow those wet napkins again?” she asked.

  “In a minute,” I said, stepping around the door. I already had my pants off when I approached her. Jody watched me strip the rest of the way.

  Then we embraced.

  I lowered her to the ground, pushing into her before she had the chance to put down the knife. My thrusts were fast and hard. Both of us bit our tongues to keep from screaming when I began spurting. Shuddering with her own release, Jody tightened her legs around my back and pulled me harder against her. Lifting up, she shoved her face against my neck as she whimpered.

  We stayed entwined on the ground.

  “Jody?” I said.

  Head leaning back on the ground, eyes closed, she said, “Hmm?”

  “Want to get married?”

  12

  Jody

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  Open fields were on either side of the road as Seth drove us through Fieldsville. Rolls of hay were scattered across the freshly cut wheat. Some had been there so long, grass grew on top like a green toupee.

  Mountains far off in the distance were hazy jagged shapes pointing at the sky. Clouds clung to their tops, like faint smears made from a worn paintbrush.

  I’d seen scenery like this before on calendars and postcards. Never in my life did I ever expect to see something so amazing in real life.

  “I want you to meet somebody,” said Seth.

  “Oh? And who is it?”

  “Pappy.”

  “Who?”

  Smiling, Seth looked at me. His eyebrows were high. “You’ll see.”

  The Nova decelerated. In front of us was an old, tilted mailbox. A dirt path on the other side of the leaning pole led from the road back into the woods. Seth steered the car onto it, and kept driving.

  “Seth, I don’t like surprises. I know how a lot of women always complain about how they wished their husbands would just surprise them here and there. I’m not one of those bored bitches. I hate surprises.”

  Seth frowned. “My grandfather.”

  “Pappy’s your grandfather?”

  “Right.”

  “And you’re taking me to meet him?”

  I saw a large farmhouse appear ahead of us. A rusted tractor was parked to my right. Tall weeds grew around it, as if trying to swallow the equipment. My stomach gave a nauseating lurch.

  Seth laughed. “Do you not want to meet him?”

  “No—I mean, sure. I…”

  Seth reached over, putting his hand on my knee. He stroked my thigh. His touch filled my insides with warm comfort, settled the frizzed nerves in my stomach. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “What if he doesn’t like me?”

  “I doubt you need to worry about that. He’ll love you, like I do.”

  I felt my cheeks go hot. “Oh, stop…”

  “It’s true. Plus, I want him to marry us.”

  “He can do that?”

  “Sure.”

  “He’s a pastor?”

  “Used to be. I mean, we need witnesses if we go to a courthouse, and we don’t have any. Plus, it might be best if we steered clear of government buildings.”

  “I understand that, but it doesn’t make it real if…”

  “We don’t need a slip of paper confirming we’re married. Our vows will make it legitimate to me. Pappy can handle the rest.”

  Made sense, I realized. Though most girls dream of big, elegant weddings filled with family and friends and expensive dresses and food and music, I knew it was something I could never have. Even if I hadn’t run off with Seth, I wouldn’t get some big, whimsical wedding. I hated my family, and had no real friends. Plus, picking a maid of honor would’ve been a nightmare, since I knew nobody who was honorable.

  I looked at the inspiring scenery outside. It was lovely. You couldn’t beat getting married in such a place—trees so thick and green they looked fake. A sky filled with such a deep blue that it could’ve been a swimming pool above us.

  “Let’s go for it,” I said.

  Seth moved his hand from my leg and grabbed my hand.

  We parked in front of the huge white house. The paint was faded, flaking in parts. Lime made light green streaks below the windows. It needed some minor work, but was still a nice house. A roofed porch stretched across the whole front, then angled around the side, ending at a glass door. The low ceiling filled the porch with shade. There were a few wooden rocking chairs here and there.

  Behind the house was a barn that matched the color and condition of the house. The big door was closed. A loft above it was also closed off.

  “Used to have horses out there,” Seth said, letting go of my hand.

  “Why aren’t there now?”

  Shrugging, he shut off the car, and said, “Pappy sold them all. Too many horses for one person to care for.” He flung his seat belt behind him. Turning to me, he smiled.

  “Think he’ll do it?” I asked.

  “Marry us?” I nodded. “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “That’s not the kind of thing you just show up out of the blue and ask, you know? Besides, he’s never met me.”

  “I told you, he’ll adore you.”

  Seth’s reassurance did nothing to kill the dread I felt inside.

  Looking toward the house again, I spotted a man on the front porch. He leaned against the post between the railing and the roof. Smoking a cigarette, he watched us without a hint of curiosity or jubilation.

  But he didn’t look miffed, either.

  Seth must’ve noticed my staring. He turned as well. And the confidence he’d been trying to get me to share petered out. “Oh, boy,” he said.

  “Think if he had a gun he might use it?”

  “Nah, he’s just…surprised.”

  “That’s his surprised face?” I stared at Seth’s grandfather, though he didn’t look quite old enough to have a grandson Seth’s age. Tall and lean, his skin was dark from years of working in the sun. His hair had probably once been the color of sand, but gray had invaded. An identically shaded mustache hid his upper lip.

  A very good-looking man, for his age.

  He flicked his cigarette. I watched it flip, end over end, and land in the driveway. The cherry burst in a mist of red ashes. He brushed his hands together. “Are you two going sit in the car all day, or do you wanna come inside?”

  13

  Jody

  “Have a seat, Jody,” Pappy said. He gestured toward a table that looked too small in such a spacious kitchen.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, pulling out the chair.

  Pappy, on his way to the counter across the room, paused. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Cut that sir shit.”

  Nodding, I quickly dropped down in the chair. Afraid of even touching his table without permission, I kept my arms tight by my side.

  “Pappy,” said Seth.

  “What’d I do?” Pappy asked.

  Shaking his head, Seth sat in the chair to my right. He leaned close to me, elbows on the table. Softly, he said, “Don’t worry about him. He just doesn’t hold back. Like you.”

  “Great,” I said. “That’s the last thing I wanted to hear.”

  Seth grinned.

  “Sweet tea?” Pappy asked. The suction sound of a fridge door opening followed.

  “Sounds great,” Seth said. To me, “Pappy makes the best sweet tea.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to smile.

  The fridge door blocked Pappy up to his chest. He had an arm braced on top of t
he door as he stared at me. “Don’t get quiet on me,” he said.

  “I’m not meaning to,” I said.

  “I’m the one who should be shocked into silence,” said Pappy. “Haven’t seen Seth in nearly two years. He drops in without a prior notice, tells me you’re his suitor and he wants me to marry you two. I should be so damn shocked, my white shorts should be brown.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be too pleased,” I said.

  Pappy shut the fridge, a glass pitcher of tea in his hand. “I didn’t say I’m not pleased.” He walked over to the counter, set the tea on top, and opened the cupboard. He pulled down three glasses.

  “Sounds like that’s what you’re saying,” I said. “Or you’re just not pleased who his suitor is.”

  Seth tapped my hand. When I looked at him, he was shaking his head, as if warning me to be careful.

  Pappy surprised us both by laughing. “I didn’t say that. Surprised? Yes. Surprised somebody as pretty as you would go for an old farm-boy like my grandson.”

  This time, we all laughed.

  “As always,” said Seth, “I become the joke to ease the tension.”

  “Who’s joking?” Pappy asked.

  Seth rolled his eyes. “Did I tell you Pappy’s also a comedian?”

  “I think you left out that part,” I said.

  Pappy brought me a glass of sweat tea first. He set it down in front of me. “For what ails you,” he said.

  “Thanks, barkeep.”

  Laughing, Pappy walked back to the counter. He had the kind of laugh I’d want to hear often. Booming and soft, all at once—a grandpa’s laugh. There was no way he’d been born with it. This laugh had been formed over the years, maturing into a deep guffaw that seemed to rattle the floorboards.

  The tea tasted wonderful and sweet, sliding down my throat and quenching my thirst with one cold swig.

  When Pappy returned to the table, he had the other two glasses. He handed Seth one, then pulled back the chair to my left and sat down with a groan. “Like the tea?” he asked me.

  “Delicious,” I said.

  “Should be, I use a pound of sugar.”

  “Well, I look forward to the sugar rush.” Holding up my glass, I said, “Here’s to our health.”

  Laughing, Pappy clinked his glass against mine. “To our health.” We both drank.

  I put down my glass. I noticed an ashtray on the table. Remembering Pappy was smoking earlier, I asked, “Can I smoke?”

  Pappy slid the ashtray toward me. “Only if I can join you.”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  The quiet was interrupted by the clicking of our lighters as we lit up, inhaled, and let out long streamers of smoke that merged into a gray cloud above our heads.

  “Seems Seth is the smart one of our trio,” Pappy said. “He never started smoking.”

  Seth sat back, hands flat on the table and arms straight. He made a subtle shrug. “Never wanted to.”

  “Saw what it did to his nana.”

  I looked at Seth. “Oh, did she…?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that,” said Seth.

  “Understood,” said Pappy. “Tell you what, why don’t you run outside, chop up some wood for the fire pit? I’ll pull some steaks out of the freezer. Oh, and pick a few potatoes from the garden. Should be some ripe ones out there. You do remember how, don’t you?”

  Seth smiled. “Sure.”

  “Consider it a wedding present.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said.

  “I know it,” said Pappy. “Nobody’s got a gun to my head.”

  Pappy’s choice of words made me cringe inside.

  “Be back soon,” said Seth, starting to stand. “Come on, Jody, I’ll show you around.”

  “Sounds fun,” I said, starting to stand.

  Pappy held out his hand. “Jody can stick around with me. We can get to know each other a bit while you get things ready.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to hide my discomfort. Sure, I’d gotten Pappy to laugh a few times, but I wasn’t in any real hurry to be alone with him.

  “Take your tea with you,” Pappy said to Seth.

  “Right.” Grabbing his glass, Seth snuck me a friendly look. It told me I’d be okay without him. Bending over, Seth leaned close and kissed me. “Back in a jiff,” he said, then kissed me again.

  Pappy groaned as if he were about to barf. Lips pressed together, we laughed. Seth rubbed my shoulder, then walked away. I watched him leave the kitchen. A moment later the front door bumped shut.

  I turned back toward Pappy, smiling. It slowly slipped away when I saw his grim eyes.

  “Are you with him?” Pappy asked behind a thin layer of smoke. The cigarette between his two fingers had a chimney of ash about to break off.

  A loaded question, I thought, sliding the ashtray toward him. He flicked the ashes off without looking away.

  “Of course I am,” I answered.

  “In everything?” he asked, taking a drag.

  I understood the hidden meaning of his question “That’s actually how we met.”

  “I see.”

  I talked about Glenn and Stacey, about Sheriff Bernstein, about moving into Seth’s one-bedroom house. Told him about Earl and Lola.

  He nodded at certain parts. Sometimes his eyebrows arched if he found something particularly interesting. But he didn’t ask questions, didn’t make any comments at all.

  And his silence made it hard for me to stop talking.

  Finally, I reached a point where there was nothing left to say.

  Pappy lit another cigarette, taking a long pull on the filter. Closing his eyes, he held the smoke in longer than needed before letting it out. He made a long hiss as the smoke streamed out.

  “So,” he said.

  “So,” I said back. I dug a cigarette out of my pack, keeping my eyes on him.

  “You’ve only known each other a few weeks?”

  “Well…a bit longer than a few.”

  “And he just now told you about me?”

  Nodding, I lit my cigarette. “When we pulled in the driveway, yeah. I haven’t asked him very much about his family.”

  “Does he know about yours?”

  “Oh yeah. I’ve told him all about my asshole father. My mother killed herself when I was a little girl. Don’t know my grandparents. I think I have some uncles and cousins in South Carolina, but I haven’t seen them since Mama’s funeral. So they might as well be dead. Not really the kind of feel-good story you’d see somebody make a movie about.”

  “A drama, maybe.”

  I smiled. “True.”

  “Who would play you?” he asked.

  “In the movie of my life?”

  “Right. I see myself as a young Burt Reynolds. Seth could be…”

  “Brad Pitt,” I said.

  “Hmm…” Pappy frowned. “I see Seth as Ted from Bill and Ted. Not the actor, but Ted.”

  Choking on the smoke in my lungs, I coughed and laughed. Pappy crossed his arms, studying me, a sly grin on his face. The cigarette was still pinched between his two fingers, the burning end pointed at the ceiling.

  “You,” he said, “are too unique. Not any actresses out there I can think of that looks like you.”

  I felt myself blush. I hoped he’d mistake my red cheeks for the lack of air I was getting from my laughter.

  “So are you the only family Seth has?” My voice sounded hoarse and scratchy. I drank some tea. That helped take away some of the burn in my throat.

  “Just me,” he said. “And now you.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “I raised Seth, my wife Peggy and me. My real name’s Tom Covington. But I’ve gone by Pappy for so long, if you were to call me Tom, I’d probably look at you funny.”

  I smiled. “Then I’ll keep calling you Pappy.”

  “Appreciate it.” He took another drag from his cigarette.

  “What happened to Seth’s parents? Run off?”

 
“Nah…” Pappy’s eyes went grim again. “They’re dead. Buried in the small family plot at the back of my property, next to Peggy and Seth’s sister, Dawn.”

  The shock must’ve been evident on my face. Pappy nodded as if he understood my reaction. “Seth and I are all that’s left.”

  “What the hell happened to everybody?” I slapped my hand to my mouth. “Sorry for my language.”

  “Why?”

  I dropped my hand. “Well…you’re a…you know, pastor.”

  Pappy blew air through his lips. “Don’t do that. Don’t change how you talk because of who you think I am. I don’t care what words you use.” He sighed. “I’m not a pastor, really. I was once. Used to have my own church. Not anymore. I guess with everything, I just stopped trying to share the Word. There are times when I feel as if I’m being punished for it every day.”

  I knew he meant Seth by the last comment. “You lost your faith?”

  “That there’s a good question that I have no answer for.”

  “So you haven’t lost it?”

  “Maybe I have. Maybe I just stopped trusting Him.”

  “Why?”

  “Look at the plot outside, and that’ll tell you. Look at Seth, his…doings and now yours, that should tell you too. I don’t condemn anyone for their actions. It’s not my place, but…”

  “You’re angry.”

  “Close.” Pappy puffed on the cigarette. “I feel betrayed. Does that make sense?”

  “I think so.” I puffed on my cigarette, assembling the words in my head. “Do you feel…?”

  “Go on.”

  “Do you feel that because you’re a pastor, things like…that shouldn’t have happened to you?”

  Pappy stared at me for a long beat. Then he nodded. “I believe you’ve hit the proverbial nail on the head.”

  “So you are angry.”

  “I suppose I am, yeah. To an extent. Crazy thing is, I held on for a long time. Up until Peggy was taken from me. It just started to fade after that. Then one morning I woke up and felt this…separation from Him. It felt as if He weren’t listening to me anymore.” He mashed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Cancer took Peggy. And you’re right, I figured since I was a man of God, I’d be spared having to watch her slowly die in our bedroom. But that was foolish of me. Even Jesus suffered, and he’s the Son of Man.”