Eximere (The River Book 4) (7 page)

“Hungry?” Eliza asked.

“Yes, my stomach is rumbling,” Myrna replied. “I should have
eaten something before we left the house, but I was too nervous.”

“I don’t feel like eating,” Roy said. “I feel a little
nauseous.”

“It might be catching,” Russell said. “I don’t feel that
great either.”

“Let’s get to town and we’ll see what we can find,” Eliza
said. “The town was pretty small. I don’t recall seeing a restaurant or even a
grocery store.”

“I expect they all travel to Aberdeen for groceries,” Roy
said.

They walked in silence again. Soon the town came into view.

“We’re close now,” said Roy. “I see houses.”

As they walked into town, they took note of the buildings and
businesses there. The houses were small and drab, many looking abandoned. There
was a half-block section of businesses on the main drag before they reached the
motel. Most shop fronts were dark and abandoned, with “For Lease” signs in the
windows, but there were a couple of spots that looked like they might open in a
couple of hours. There was a knick knack shop, a hair and nails salon, and a
café. In another building down the road they could see the sign for Percival
Realty. There was no car out front.

Jonathan checked his watch. “We’re in luck, this café should
be open in a couple of minutes,” he said. As they watched through the windows
they could see movement in the back of the restaurant.

“Oh, good,” said Myrna.

“You hungry?” Steven asked Eliza.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m not much of a breakfast person
anyway.”

“Still feeling nauseous, Dad?” Steven asked Roy.

“Yes,” Roy answered. “Not hungry.”

They saw a thin woman of about fifty approach the door, turn
over the “closed” sign that hung in the window to “open,” and unlock the door.

“Welcome folks,” she said. “You all look a little chilly.
Come in and warm up. You want a table, or do you want to sit at the bar? It’s
easier for me if you sit at the bar.”

“Well,” said Jonathan, “we’ll sit at the bar, I guess.”

“Good choice,” the woman said, leading them inside. “Do me a
favor if you would, and leave the two stools at the end open. Howard and Jerry
will be here in a few minutes, and it’ll throw their whole day off if you sit
in their spots.”

The group situated themselves at the bar, which had an old
feel to it. Steven guessed it had been around for fifty years at least.
Everything
looks clean
, he thought. The woman rounded the bar and began setting coffee
cups out for each of them.

“Menu’s on the board,” she said as she began pouring coffee.
“Oh, wait,” she said, putting the coffee pot down. She reached behind the bar
and flipped a switch, and the menu board attached to the wall behind the bar
lit up. It was a Coca-Cola menu board with press-on letters that lit up from
behind. Steven began surveying the menu while the woman resumed pouring coffee.
To the right of the menu a stuffed spotted owl hung from a noose. Below it hung
an old faded sign that read, “This Business Supported by Timber Dollars.”

“My name’s Bess,” she said. “I’m guessing you’re all from out
of town. That’s because there’s only fifty people in town and I know ‘em all.”

“You’re right,” Jonathan said. “We’re from out of town. We’ve
just stayed the night at the Unser Estate.”

“Did you now?” Bess said. “That place has been closed up for
a while. You must know Kent Percival.”

“We do,” said Roy. “Unfortunately.”

“Well, what can I get you?” Bess asked. “You know what you
want?”

Myrna, Jonathan, and Steven ordered food. The rest just had
coffee. They chatted quietly as Bess disappeared into the kitchen.

A bell rang, and in walked two older gentlemen. They glanced
up at the group and grimaced, then walked over to the bar and sat next to the
group in the two stools left open.

“Mornin’,” one of them said to Steven, who was at the end.

“Good morning,” Steven answered back. He guessed the men were
in their seventies. One of them walked behind the bar and got cups for himself
and the other gentleman, then poured them both some coffee.

“Bess doesn’t mind if we help ourselves,” he said to the
group, then sat on the stool by the other gentleman.

“Been doing it for twenty years,” the other man said. “I
don’t think Bess has poured us a cup in all that time. We’ve always poured our
own, haven’t we, Howard?”

“Yes, we have,” Howard answered, adding some cream to his
coffee and stirring it.

Bess walked back from the kitchen. “Mornin’,” she said, and
Howard and Jerry mumbled a reply. “These folks are from out of town,” Bess told
them.

“You don’t think we can’t see that?” Jerry said. “We’re not
blind.”

“You folks from Seattle?” Howard asked, sipping his coffee.

“I’m from Seattle,” Steven said, “and so is my father. The
rest are from all over.”

“They spent the night up at the Unser house,” Bess said,
walking back into the kitchen.

“Did you now?” Howard said.

“Evil place,” Jerry said, shaking his head. “Very evil. They
should tear it down.”

 “I hear they tried that,” Steven said. “Didn’t work.”

“Who told you that?” Jerry asked.

“Kent Percival,” Steven said.

The two old men laughed. “Percival? He couldn’t find his ass
if you tied his hands behind his back,” Howard said. “He trying to sell you the
place?”

“Not exactly,” Steven said. He wasn’t sure how much he should
tell.

“Well,” Howard said, “whatever he told you, don’t believe it.
His father sold me my house here thirty years ago, and everything he told me
was a crock of shit, excuse my French.”

Bess emerged from the kitchen with two bagels on two plates,
and set them down in front of Howard and Jerry.

“Percival sell you this restaurant, Bess?” Howard asked.

“He did,” Bess said. “Told me we’d get two hundred people a
day.”

Howard and Jerry laughed. Eventually Bess joined them.

“I’m guessing you don’t see many people, then?” Steven said.

“Howard and Jerry here keep this business afloat,” Bess said.
“If they didn’t come in every day, we’d have to close up!” She winked at
Steven.

“Mr. Pervical thinks the Unser house is the reason the town
is so depressed,” Eliza said. “At least, that’s what he told us last night.”

“Well, he might be right about that,” Jerry said. “The house
ain’t brought this town any good.”

“How long have you lived here?” Eliza asked.

“Lived here my whole life,” Jerry said, spreading some cream
cheese on his bagel.

“Then you must know something about the house,” Eliza said.

“Nope,” Jerry said. “I don’t know nothing about it. I saw the
place once when I was a kid when my father made a delivery there. Creepy as all
get out. That was enough for me, haven’t seen it since, and don’t care to.” He
took a bite of the bagel.

“Jerry here is a bit superstitious,” Howard said. “Those of
us who are normal know it’s just a house.”

“Do you know much about it?” Eliza asked Howard.

“Nope, never cared to,” Howard said. “Have no interest in the
place.”

Bess returned with plates of food, setting them in front of
Steven, Jonathan, and Myrna, then grabbed the coffee pot and began refilling
cups.

“If you want to know more about that place,” Howard said, “you
should talk to Roger Danvers. His wife runs the shop down the street.”

“If he’s sober enough to talk,” Jerry said.

“That’s right,” Bess said, “Roger used to be a guide at the
house, when it was open for tours. He knows a lot about it.”

“If he’s sober enough to remember,” Jerry said.

“Is that the knick knack shop we saw on the way here?” Eliza
asked.

“Brenda’s Batch House,” Bess said, “three doors down. But Roger’ll
be in the back. Just go in the back door in a couple of hours. He’ll be back
there trying to fix things to sell in the shop.”

“If he’s awake by then,” Jerry said.

The talk turned to the weather and the Seahawks. Steven kept
up idle conversation with Howard and Jerry, acknowledging their strongly held
opinions and injecting an “oh, really?” every now and again.

Once he finished his food, Steven glanced down the bar.
Everyone else looked done and ready to go. “Shall we make our way back to the
motel?” he asked. All heads nodded in agreement. They placed money on the
counter.

As they stood up to leave, Steven said “nice to meet you,” to
Howard and Jerry.

“Likewise,” Howard said.

“Thank you all,” Bess said, clearing the plates.

“If you know what’s good for you,” Jerry said, “you’ll stay
away from that house. No good’ll come of it.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Howard said. “Like I said, he’s just
superstitious. Go see Roger.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Steven said, and they turned to
leave the restaurant.

◊

It was a short five minute walk to the motel. They passed the
office of Percival Realty as they went, looking into the windows. It was dark;
no one was inside.

“Wonder if he’ll show up today,” Myrna said.

“I’m going to hurry along to the motel,” Russell said. “I’m
not feeling very well.”

“Me either,” said Roy. “Let’s go.”

As they entered the motel parking lot, Myrna began to look a
little white. “I could use a rest after that meal,” she said.

“Not us,” Steven said. “We’re packing up and heading out.”

“Do you all have a way to leave?” Eliza asked.

“Marilyn came with me; I had picked her up at the airport,”
Jonathan said, a new toothpick between his lips. “I’ll collect her things.”

“Let’s put as much distance as we can between ourselves and
this place,” Roy said. “If any of you would like to meet up in Seattle, you’re
welcome to stop by either my or Steven’s place.”

Roy and Steven shared their addresses with the group and they
all broke apart into their separate motel rooms.

Steven and Roy packed up their room in ten minutes. When they
hauled their suitcases out to the car, Eliza was already waiting for them.

“That was fast,” Steven said.

“Like I said, I keep it packed up and ready to go,” Eliza
said.

They loaded their suitcases into the car and got inside.
Steven noticed Jonathan packing his car. He waved to him as he pulled out of
the parking lot and onto the street.

“Now I’m starting to feel queasy,” Eliza said from the back
seat.

“Do you need me to stop?” Steven asked, pulling the car over
before she could answer.

Eliza opened the car door and leaned out. Steven watched her
from the rear view mirror.

He turned to look at Roy in the passenger seat. Roy didn’t
look any better. “Are you OK, Dad?” Steven asked.

“I don’t feel well,” Roy said.

“Is it your medications?” Steven asked.

“I don’t think so,” Roy said. “I took them as soon as we got
to the room.”

Steven could hear Eliza wretching. He felt sorry for her.
After a moment, she leaned back into the car and closed the door. Steven could
see in the mirror that she looked pale white.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Very embarrassing.”

Steven put the car in drive and stepped on the gas. “Let’s
get out of here,” he said.

He hadn’t gone a block before Roy waved him to pull over.
Before Steven could even stop the car Roy had the door open and was vomiting on
the side of the road.

“What is going on?” Steven asked. “You’re both sick?”

Eliza tried to answer him, but instead she opened the car
door and stood outside. Within a moment she was vomiting again. Steven turned
off the car, not wanting to irritate them with the car’s exhaust.

After several minutes doubled over, both Roy and Eliza
returned to the car.

“I can go back, we could rest at the motel,” Steven offered.

“No,” said Roy. “I’d rather get away from here first. Eliza?”

“Yes,” she said, “we’ve got to get out of here. I say we
leave.”

“OK,” Steven said, starting up the car again. He saw
Russell’s car pass him, then stop twenty feet ahead of him. Russell leaned out
the driver’s side of the car, vomiting.

“Something’s going on,” Steven said. “I can’t believe you all
got sick at once.” He pulled the car onto the road, and slowly approached
Russell. As they reached him, Roy rolled down his window so they could talk to
him.

“You alright?” Roy asked.

“I feel awful,” Russell said.

“Like food poisoning?” Eliza asked.