Corrosion (22 page)

CHAPTER 33

Outside the temperature had dropped 20 degrees at least. I opened the truck door and stepped inside. Lilith sat in the passenger seat, rocking back and forth like an Orthodox Jew praying at the Wailing Wall. Then she turned to me and said, I know that girl. The one in the photograph.

I shook my head. No, you don’t.

Yes, she said. She’s me. Who I’ll become.

I hit the engine and drove. George Jones sang on the radio. “He Stopped Loving Her Today.” The station was full of static, but he sounded better that way. Up the mountain we went, snow falling harder.

Where are we going? Lilith said. Where are you taking me?

I turned and looked at her and for the first time I saw the truth, God’s revelation, and I knew that Lilith was the devil, that Constance was the devil, that my mother was the devil.

We’re going home, I said.

* * *

Twenty minutes passed, maybe more, before we came to an old valley surrounded by a crown of trees. Then the old mining cabin appeared through the canopy like a drunken dream, all indistinct and hazy. Four walls built out of logs, a wooden shake roof, a door, and a pair of boarded-up windows. And just beyond the cabin, an abandoned mine, the rotted boards collapsed on the shaft like a jigsaw of bones.

I felt an ancient coldness rise up inside of me. I let off the gas, and the truck rolled to a stop. We sat in the pickup for a long time, me just staring at the cabin, Lilith staring at me. Then the windshield was covered with snow and I couldn’t see anymore.

There were ghosts in that cabin. Men who came to the mountains with nothing but a pick, a shovel, some food, and a jug of whiskey. Digging and drinking and dying. Murder and suicide. Remember Miles Stockton? Taking a break from beating on his pregnant wife to shoot himself in the temple, leaving the poor woman to clean his brain and blood from the wall. Those ghosts never leave, not really.

I turned off the engine, opened the door. Where are you going? Lilith asked.

I’m going to go check it out, I said. Make sure there aren’t any animals inside.

Please, Lilith said.

Please what?

Please…take me home.

Baby, you are home.

I walked slowly toward the mining cabin and the fury was buried in my soul.

The front door was all boarded up.
Walk away. There’s no redemption here
. Breathing heavily, I raised my leg and slammed my boot against the wood. It was rotted and splintered easily. After five or so more kicks, the wood was pretty well broken through. I pushed the smashed door out of the way and stepped inside.

The act of breaking open the door filled the shack with dust rising in the slatted sunlight. Shoulders heaving, I studied my surroundings. A cracked lightbulb hung perilously from the ceiling. There was a wood-burning stove and a gas lantern and a wooden chair and a small cot. I walked farther inside, the boards creaking under my feet. Then I stopped, stood there for a while, dread oozing everywhere. In the back of the cabin, wood piled high. I knew there was no turning back. Redemption is a song for the delusional. Sweat dribbling down my forehead, I got busy pulling off the firewood. Beneath it all was an old miner’s rug, tattered and torn. I tossed it aside, saw the small padlocked door on the ground, layered with dust and grime. I stood staring at that hatch for some time, just thinking and thinking. Hands trembling, I removed the chain from around my neck, unsnapped a key away from the dog tag.
Get out, soldier
.
The walls are collapsing.
I dropped to my knees, gripped the key tightly.
Get out.
I pushed the key into the lock and turned. It clicked open. After tossing the lock aside, I grabbed a hold of the edge of the hatch and lifted it up, letting it slam behind me on the wooden floor. I gazed downward. A long, darkened ladder. Something terrible in me.
Get out, soldier! That’s an order.

I walked across the room and grabbed the gas lantern. Kerosene still inside. I opened the shield and lit the flame with my lighter. My hands still trembled and the ocean still boiled. Wheezing steadily, maggots crawling beneath my skin, I turned and walked out of the cabin, back toward the truck where Lilith’s face had vanished beneath the snow-covered windshield.

I opened the passenger’s-side door. Lilith’s eyes shone with rage and they could see every sin I’d ever committed.

It’s time to go, I said.

You don’t have to do this.

We’ve come this far. No sense in turning back now.

She had a hard time walking. Nerves maybe. She kept falling into the snow. I’d kind of drag her for a while, then pull her back to her feet. I saw that she was crying. I slapped the tears out of her. That tooth in my mouth was aching, rotting. The rats were gnawing on my brain.

Inside the Skull Shack. Lilith inconsolable. What is this? she said, fear, fear, fear. Who lives here?

I grinned, said, You live here. But she didn’t get it.

Please, she said. Joseph…

Devils, I said. Then I pointed toward the open hatch. We’re gonna go down there, I said. Have a look-see.

Lilith shook her head. No, she said. Not this way.

I’m sorry, but there’s no other way. I didn’t want it to end like this. Honest I didn’t. I grabbed her by the arm, pulled her toward the ladder. But you gotta sleep in the bed you made.

She looked up at me with the same stare I’d seen so many times before. We’d all seen ghosts, every last one of us. I shone the kerosene lamp toward the ladder. Lilith peered downward. Wha…what’s down there? she said, dirty tears rolling down her face.

I don’t know.

Slowly, we made our way down the wooden ladder. It smelled damp and dank. My legs felt rubbery and I thought I might collapse. Lilith held on to my arm, digging her fingers into my ligaments. She wouldn’t stop crying.

We finally reached the bottom. I raised the lantern, shone it around. I looked at the ground, saw an old mattress covered in shit and blood and maggots. Lilith began to faint. I held her up.

I took another step forward. And that’s when I heard moaning, soft and low, and came face-to-face with the monster.

A nightmarish vision, its hair and teeth missing, eyes sockets empty,
a bloated purple tongue lolling between swollen and bloody lips. Skin sloughed from a shriveled little body, spine badly contorted, arms and legs gnarled.

Help me, the monster cried in a little girl’s voice, as Lilith fell to the floor. The monster stood over her. Please. Help me.

I lost control, screaming, crying, screaming. My soul was disintegrating by the second. But Lilith didn’t see anything, saying, What is it, Joseph, what is it?

In my panic, I dropped the lantern and it crashed on the ground, glass splintering everywhere. I was a blind man, falling apart, making my way up the ladder. I didn’t look back, but I could hear moaning and screeches of terror. I pulled myself out of the dugout and rolled to my back. I struggled to my feet and started lifting the hatch. Lilith and the monster were right behind me. I had to kick at them with my boot to keep them down. Finally, I got the hatch shut and locked. They were pounding on the hatch, the both of them. Body trembling, I backed away slowly, then turned around and staggered out of the shack.

Soon the pounding and the screams became more and more muffled and then the world was quiet, gone, gone forever.

CHAPTER 34

Memories get mixed up memories change one person remembers it one way somebody else remembers it a different way I grew up in a small Ohio town my parents died in a car crash
remember the rats and the sickness mother was withering away
I was almost at the mountain when the engine gave out
the Christ rat especially
as soon as those buildings collapsed I knew I wanted to be a soldier
everyone said he was crazy I said they were crazy
I was in Mosul we were driving down the road and it was midnight it was pitch-black and our lights were off we were wearing night-vision goggles
how far you going partner he said and his face was melted
as soon as I saw those buildings collapse I knew I wanted to be a soldier
as far as you can take me
she reminded me of somebody that was certain
Constance Constance Constance
we were driving down this road and there was this tiny bridge over a little canal and one moment you’re whole and beautiful
from the darkness in the sea
to the sunshine on the hill
in the forest filled with trees
my shadow has gone still
I grew up on the mountain I grew up in a small Ohio town
nobody would miss him I thought it’s perfect
I grew up in a small Ohio town
what do you need the Sterno for the woman said its just like napalm it’ll burn your skin good if you’re not careful
my name is Joseph Downs here’s my dog collar with my name on it I served my country proudly
as far as you’ll take me I said
Nick McClellan deserved to die Lilith deserved to die
Mother deserved to die
memories get mixed up I was badly injured unrecognizable
his face was melted
my name is Joseph Downs
my name is Benton Faulk
I served my country proudly.

CHAPTER 35

I sat in the truck outside of the Skull Shack. The hearse engine was humming but I didn’t drive, couldn’t drive. Instead, I just sat there studying my face in the rearview mirror, trying to find something, the truth maybe, but the truth was vile. The past changes and we forget. I reached behind my head, ripped off my dog tag, and placed it in the palm of my hand. I stared at the name for a good long time. Joseph Downs. Then my fingers tightened around the identification tag, and my eyes clenched shut. I squeezed harder and harder until the tag sliced right through the palm of my hand, drew blood. I watched in bewilderment as the blood dripped like a faucet onto the upholstery.

Eventually I pushed the truck into gear and hit the gas. I drove around for a long time, Lilith’s screams echoing in my ears. I felt weary. I needed to lay my head somewhere.

Down the mountain a ways, I came upon a little motel, hidden beneath the pine trees. The vacancy light shone and I parked in front of the office next to an old Plymouth with suicide doors. I walked slowly to the motel and my hand was covered with blood.

The office door was closed and locked. I pounded on the door a few times and waited. Some time passed before an old lady with long gray hair and a long gray nightgown appeared. Her face was groggy as she peered out the window. She unlocked the door and opened it. It’s late, she said.

Can you give me a room? I said. I’ve been traveling all day.

She sighed. All right. Come on in.

In the corner of the office there was a potbelly stove burning and I walked over and warmed my hands. It’s getting cold, I said.

She saw the blood on my hand, and her eyes narrowed. You okay there, son?

Sure, I said. Never better.

She handed me a key. Room three, she said. Check out is eleven. That’ll be thirty-eight dollars.

I pulled out my wallet and handed her the money. Sorry for waking you, I said. I just need a few hours of sleep.

Don’t worry about it, sugar. You have a good night.

The room was basic. A bed, a dresser, a toilet, a sink. No artwork. No television. I got out of my clothes and lay on the bed.

I slept; I don’t know for how long. I didn’t dream.

When I woke up, the sheets were drenched with sweat. Outside the sun was shining and the sky was a brilliant blue. The snow was starting to melt. It seemed like a long time since I’d seen Lilith. It had only been ten hours. I hoped she was okay. It’s a hell of a thing being trapped that way.

I ate breakfast with the old woman and her husband back in their kitchen. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. They were very generous. The husband looked younger than his wife but he had a big goiter lump on his neck. Neither of them asked about my face. They asked other questions though. Where I was from. What I was doing in the mountains. Made me uncomfortable. I became verbally abusive. She got on the phone, called the sheriff’s office, or maybe just pretended to call. I stormed out, cursing.

After I left, I felt bad. They were nice people. I never meant to hurt anybody.

* * *

The truth about my father. He wasn’t crazy. Even though my mother was untrue, even though she betrayed their love, he loved her with all of his body and soul until the end of the world. She got sick and nobody would help her. Not even God, who just sat in his gold leaf recliner, giggling, pointing a bony finger at the Faulk family, saying, The cruelty of man is only equaled by the cruelty of God.