Red Ochre Falls (2 page)

CHAPTER 3

Mom
and I grabbed a couple suitcases and rolled them up the handicap ramp to the
side door, not the front. It felt like the door was meant for the hired
help—us. As soon as we got inside, my nose crinkled at the smell of new
carpet and strong flowers. The inside was well lit, which helped reduce the
spook factor.

Mom pointed left. “Those stairs lead up to our
apartment.”

The side door allowed us quick access, like a regular apartment
building, instead of an entrance for the lowly help. I took a breath.

“The door ahead leads to the viewing room.” She pulled a
bag off her shoulder and set it down.

“Do you mean there are dead people here?”

“It’s a funeral home, Mattie. Of course there are dead
people. We discussed this already.” Some days it was hard to be patient with
me.

My eyes darted from the viewing room door only a few
steps ahead of where we stood, then to the stairs leading to our place a few
steps to the left. I’d figured it out. The viewing room sat below our
apartment. “You didn’t tell me we’d be living right above them!”

“At least they’re prepped and dressed by the time they’re
under us,” she said half-jokingly.

“And why wouldn’t they be?” I was totally annoyed she left
out that detail.

“Well,” she paused, searching for the right words. “They
aren’t like that when they first get here.”

“What do you mean? Don’t they come dressed and ready to
go? Are you telling me we’ve got random dead people lying around naked?” I couldn’t
believe we’d engaged in a conversation about dead people. I was too young for
this! I needed to be shopping, and texting my friends about guys and classes,
or complaining about work.

The problem since mom told me about our new “residence”
was I’d been closed off and told none of my friends about our new living
situation. Jocelyn and I hadn’t talked much lately, and she should’ve been the
first to hear news this huge. But I hadn’t told a soul. It’s a lot to keep
inside and I really needed to vent about it, ASAP.

“Sweetie, this is a full-service business. They receive,
embalm, dress, and prepare the bodies here. They also held viewings and
services for the deceased.”

“Eww, old naked people.” I acted twelve, but it sounded
gross. Was it too late to leave? Something moved and I screamed.

“Whoa, take it easy. Grandpa Stanley hardly ever runs
around without his clothes, so all the old naked folks around here are dead.”
My heart pounded and my face flushed when he winked at me.

Mom put a reassuring hand on my arm.

He stood nearly a foot taller than me in dark suit pants
and a white business shirt that hugged his upper body. He unbuttoned the cuffs
and rolled up his sleeves. Who was this tall Romeo with a gorgeous smile,
and…incredible blue eyes? Was I staring? Did anybody notice? He extended his
hand. I tried to park a heavy suitcase, but lost my grip and the thing landed
on my foot.

“Ouch!” I yelped then clasped a hand over my mouth. I
tried to move, but tripped over mom’s bag instead. Mom made a move to help;
only he was faster. In one move he stopped me from tumbling head over rump and
snagged the suitcase so I didn’t klutz my way to the emergency room. I couldn’t
figure out what it was, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He held my gaze
for a second. Electricity shot through me. We walked to the nearest table and
sat down in a couple of plush chairs.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I didn’t mean to trip over my own feet, sort of a
bad habit. Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime.”

Maybe he was so focused on helping, he didn’t catch me
gawking at him. My face turned several shades of red.
Where is a rock I can crawl under?

I was so busy worrying about my first impression I nearly
forgot mom was still with us.

“You okay?” She brushed some hair from my face.

I was embarrassed at what I’d done, and wasn’t sure if
mom caught me staring at the guy. “I’m okay mom, just a bruised ego. Should be
fine in no time.”

He let out a laugh and I smiled back.

“Well, we’ve got more stuff,” mom explained.

“I should be ready to unload in a couple minutes.”

Since her heart attack, I hardly let her do anything. I
felt bad she was alone when it happened. The school pulled me out of a history
class when they broke the news. I was happy to get out of another one of
Professor Conklin’s Civil War lectures, but would have preferred it if mom had
never been hurt at all.

I begged my ex, Ethan, to drive me home and he agreed
immediately. Mom liked him—he was generally polite and a pre-med student.
We made a go of it for a while, but it didn’t work out. There was something
about him that felt more like brother than boyfriend.

When mom got sick, it’d been a year since the break up,
and Ethan moved on with a freshman or two. Despite our awkward end, he was a
good choice to drive me home. He owned a car and lived close.

Being a nice guy, he helped me get home. We spoke with
the Dean of Students, an awesome lady who looked like she could have walked
right out of Haight-Ashbury circa 1960. Mrs. Thayer excused us from classes to
make the trip. She told me to take as much time as I needed, and said there
would be a place for me when I returned. It was a relief because losing
scholarships would have made it impossible to come back.
 

We didn’t have a lot of money. Most of the money mom made
went to our middle-class home, maintaining a reasonably priced car, and keeping
food on the table. She’d done it my whole life and part of me felt like she was
left hanging when I went to school. I breathed a little easier knowing I was
headed home to help. I just didn’t know what it would be like when I got there.
I had no idea she’d be in such rough shape.

Ethan took me straight to the hospital. Mom was asleep
when we arrived. She’d had some problems during surgery, but the doctor said
she was tough. He expected she’d recover, but with some limitations.

Mom had monitors taped all over when I finally got there.
She looked pale and tired. Her breathing was ragged, but eased when I took her
hand. I hadn’t realized how much I needed her until then, so I held her hand
and cried.

Mom raised me. Dad left when I was a baby, so she did it
all. Played every role: mom, dad, coach, and friend. She fixed stuff around the
house and knew her way around just about everything. What she didn’t know, she
learned. While we struggled during my high school years—what teenage girl
and her mom don’t have trouble then? —we reached a place where we could
talk again without fighting about her being the head of the house, and me being
old enough to make my own decisions. At least we were working on it and could
survive under the same roof with minimal eruptions. It’s tough having two
strong personalities in the same house.

I knew she needed me. In the hospital room, before we
even spoke, I resolved to help her any way I could. No matter what it took, so
I left school and never looked back. The memory faded as I wandered back to the
present.

“I’m almost good as new. Um…what did you say your name
was?” I tried to stand and wobbled a bit until he caught me. He was younger than
I expected a business owner would be. My mom mentioned their family ran the
place when we talked about moving here, but I’d partly tuned her out hoping our
problems would go away, and we could stay in our home. It didn’t work.

“It’s Garrett.” He shook my hand as an official
introduction. “Nice to meet you.”

Since we were doing the handshake thing, I responded.
“I’m Mattie.”

“Your mom mentioned it. I just finished closing up for
the night. Give me the keys. Been sitting most of the day and could use some
exercise.” He opened his hand. Was he speaking a foreign language? I tilted my
head as if it would help me understand better. He chuckled. “Can I have the
keys? Please?”

What was it about him that distracted me? I needed to
shake off whatever I was feeling. Did I hit my head? It sure felt like it. I
grinned like an idiot and got the keys out without looking away from him. He
cupped my hands discreetly and took the keys. It happened so quickly only the
two of us would have noticed. Was he flirting?

He turned and walked away. I hadn’t looked before, but he
looked good in his tailored pants and shirt. Okay, I did look, but his back was
as nice as his front, and I really checked him out this time.

Was I drooling over mom’s boss? I mean our boss? Our
landlord, for cripes sake!
Stop thinking
about it!
This was bad. Very bad.
Stop
it now!
I tried to yell at myself in my head. I did it a lot. Only, it
almost never worked.

I expected Garrett to shake his head, or run, at the site
of our beat-up, brown sedan parked next to the Faux-Haul, but he didn’t flinch.
Not even when he saw the peeling paint and threadbare seats. Before he got to
work, Garrett suggested we not draw too much attention to all the goodies we
brought, so I told him to grab our bags out of the car. We didn’t need much to
get through the night. The big stuff in the truck could wait until morning when
my cousin, Zack, and his buddy planned to help. They were coming up from
Louisville and planned to crash at a hotel.

Garrett carried every bag upstairs. He insisted. Then he
showed us the apartment and gave us our keys. Mom sat on a chair he brought up
from downstairs while I blew up the air mattress. It wasn’t an ideal bed for
her, but it would be better than the hard floor.

“It’s getting late. I’ll let you two get some rest. If
you need anything, just page me.”

“Thank you,” mom said.

Garrett walked me to the door.

“We’ve got people coming in and out of here all day and
night.” He showed me the keys and locks. “Just make sure you use the deadbolt
and you should be fine.”

“Thanks for everything.”

“Sure.” His eyes stayed on mine. “See you in the
morning.”

“Goodnight.” I double-locked the door after he left and
smiled. We’d see each other again, soon.

The owners stocked the kitchen with dishes, napkins,
silverware, and towels. Mom got a glass of water from the sink. I unloaded the
cooler and made her bed. We washed up and shuffled to our new, but nearly empty
bedroom. I looked out the window and could see some of the city lights. We were
on the second floor and without curtains it felt a little exposed. We’d take
care of it tomorrow, either with actual curtains or pinned up sheets. She sank
onto the mattress and yawned, I crawled into the sleeping bag beside her.

“I’m glad we made it. I love you, Mattie.”

“Glad we made it, too. Love you, mom.”

She sighed and drifted off within a couple minutes. I
stared at the ceiling for a few minutes until sleep washed over me.

CHAPTER 4

The next morning we got an early start. I used a food finder app to
locate the nearest breakfast shop and brought back a couple sandwiches and
coffees. My cousin Zack texted me he and Tony were on the way, so I bought
extra.

By the time I returned, they were already hard at work, and Garrett was
there too. Huh. Maybe he noticed how tired mom looked, because I saw him take a
box out of her hands. Then he pointed her in the direction of a lawn chair and
told her to sit. She obliged. Interesting, she never listened to me that
easily. But, he was bigger than me, and the boss, or one of them.

Sometime during the
move-in, a long, black limo pulled into the driveway, and drove to the back of
the house. The sun warmed up, so I went inside to take off my sweatshirt.

I noticed the
vending machine and wanted a cold drink. It wouldn’t take my dollar after
repeated attempts to feed the machine. I went into the office to ask for
change. No one was there, but I heard someone in the hallway. I hesitated, but
didn’t think anything much could be going on, so I pushed open the door. No one
was there either, which seemed odd. Then I heard voices behind the door at the
end of the hall. Determined to get a cold drink, I followed the voices.

I walked through
another door and stopped short of a corpse. A blanket covered everything but
his face and feet. I’d only ever seen the dead at funerals and on TV. This
person looked completely different—he looked like he’d been doused by the
sandman—both ends were covered in some kind of rust-colored powder. An
antiseptic cleanser and something that smelled like the school Biology Lab hit
my nostrils. My expression must have been something close to deer in the
headlights shock. I heard the voices trail off and the door behind me closed.
Garrett stood there dressed in scrubs. He smiled at me from behind his mask,
but I panicked.

“He’s dead, right?”
I asked in a hollow voice.

“Yes,” he spoke
carefully. “How can I help you?”

I stared at the
white sheet and the strange face, and wondered what the rest of the body looked
like. Some of the powder rubbed off onto the sheet as Garrett tried to cover
him up. Even then, I just stared. His feet still stuck out, the guy was dead. I
shuddered and took off. Air. Must get air.

There were two
doors between the nearest exit and me. I shoved one open quickly. The second
door took longer, but once it was open wide enough to get through, I picked up
speed and ran down the driveway. There was no traffic, so I didn’t stop. I kept
going and ended up across the street in another parking lot. Not knowing if I’d
hurl or pass out, I bent over and clutched my knees. My lungs didn’t burn, but
I breathed hard. Hyperventilating, no doubt. A young guy about my age came
toward me. He was medium height and build, wore a tailored dark suit, and
carried a purple flag in his hand. He stopped near me and looked concerned.

“Are you okay?”

My head said no, so
did my body. He directed me to sit on a bench near the edge of the lot. Brick
pavers below it created a circular pattern around which, boxwoods and some late
season yellow-orange marigolds were planted. I flashed back to the body and
decided I should sit. He waved the flag to another guy sitting in a parked car,
engine running. I noticed the lot was full of cars.

“Thanks, I think so.”

“What were you
running from?”

“A dead guy.”

“Your first?” He
smiled, more relaxed than when we met. His warm eyes looked inviting, a good
asset to have in this business.

“My first, outside
of funerals and crime shows. All he had on was a sheet, and it didn’t cover
everything.”

“Oh, don’t worry,
you’re not the first one to run, and you won’t be the last.” He looked at me
with a pleasant and comforting smile. The blood returned to my head and I
blushed.

“I’m Derek.” He put
his hand out to shake mine. “Derek Davis.”

“I’m Mattie. Mattie
Harper.” I shook his hand and my eyes wandered to the engraved stone sign on
the driveway. It read: Davis and Sons Funeral Home. “Is this place yours?”

“It’s our family’s.
We’ve been here almost as long as those guys.” He pointed across the street to
the other funeral home—my new home. “I noticed you moving in earlier. Are
you new to the area?”

I nodded yes, and
listened to him explain a little about himself. How he’d gone away to school,
but came back to help run the business. He signaled the driver, in what I now
realized was the hearse, to go get something. A few moments later, the guy
brought me some water.

“Thanks.” The water
quenched my thirst. Things felt a little more normal.

“Your color looks
better. Tell me something about you. Where are you from?”

Just then Garrett
walked up in his street clothes.
 

“Derek,” Garrett
said curtly, and they did a firm, one and done handshake. Garrett stepped
closer. His stance softened, but his eyes showed concern. “Are you okay,
Mattie?”

“Sorry, I forgot
that you sometimes have people, er, bodies in there. I was thirsty,” It was all
I could muster, and it was the truth. Both of them laughed at me.

“What are you guys,
like thirteen?” My freak-out was embarrassing, but they thought it was funny?
Maybe they were right to snicker. I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh,
too.

Garrett inserted
himself between Derek and me. He put his arm around my waist and helped lift me
off the bench. “We should get back,” he said.

“Yeah, we’re just
about to head over to the cemetery,” Derek said. “Mattie, if you want to come
over later, I can give you a tour. No dead bodies. Scouts Honor.” He held up
his hand, crossed his chest to indicate he meant it. I giggled.

Garrett stared him
down. I wondered why, figured it had something to do with the family rivalry,
and shook it off. Then we headed home.

The Mackenzie house
looked different from across the street—it stood out as the highest point
on the block. Framed by trees and flowers it didn’t look so blank, and the trim
was beautifully detailed—I made a mental note to read up on the home’s
history sometime.

Garrett walked me
up the front steps through the glass double-doors. He made sure I was good, and
left to get down to business in the back room.

After everything I
saw, work could wait. It was time for a mental break. I let Zack and Tony know
they could help themselves to the cold cuts in the fridge, and I crashed on the
bedroom floor. My stomach felt uneasy. My head hurt. Reality set in. This
business needed people—bodies, like the rust-powdered guy
downstairs—to keep it afloat. It made sense, but I’d have to adjust to
the whole bodies thing. I couldn’t relax, so I washed up. The icy water hurt my
skin at first, but I felt refreshed once I toweled off. After a change of
shirts and a sandwich, I got back to work.

Mom called me over
as she positioned a lamp in the living room. Even though we’d been unloading
most of the day, and had a lot more to go, she wanted me to meet the other
owners.

As we approached
the back office, we heard someone on the phone.

“Yeah, Bert, I told
you this weekend doesn’t work. You have to cover. I already made plans.”
Garrett paused while the other guy said something.

We stopped in the
hall and waited politely while they finished their call.

“Mom, didn’t we do
this last night?” I cringed at the thought of another introduction. It felt
like I was being led to the principal’s office at a brand new school. The new
kid everyone would stare and maybe even laugh at.

My mom rolled her
eyes, “Honey, it’ll be fine. I told them I’d bring you down and introduce you
before they left for the weekend. Sweetie, don’t you want to meet the rest of
the owners?”

Hardly, I thought.
I really didn’t want to be here at all. I couldn’t act happy even though this
job was the reason there’s a roof over our heads. I still had a hard time with
the fact that we lived above a funeral home. I was in hell. Or somewhere very
close. Maybe I’d call it the ‘gateway’ until I found something better to call
it.

“You’re real funny,
Bert. I’m looking at the calendar and you’re name is written in bold across the
entire weekend. You know, if you can’t do it this weekend, then you’re going to
be on the hook for the next holiday. That’s the deal. I’ll give you your choice
since your kid’s in town.”

It sounded curious.
I thought my mom and I would be working this weekend. The office was supposed
to be closed for the holiday.

“Fine,” the voice said
curtly, “then write this down. You’re working Labor Day weekend. I will be out
of town and you’ll be working, got it?” He laughed off something the man said
and hung up the phone. I think he mumbled something else, but I couldn’t quite
hear it.

My mom took my hand
and edged me forward. She dropped it when she saw the look on my face. Her look
pleaded with me to behave. I stiffened up and faked a smile hoping this would
be over soon.

“Hi, guys,” she
said as we stepped into the office. There wasn’t a lot of room between the
desks, but we squeezed in the best we could. “I wanted to officially introduce
you to my daughter, Mattie,” mom signaled for me to come into the middle of the
room. It was a bit like being paraded on stage, but I was thankful to see pleasant
faces. My eye caught Garret and I had to try and stop staring as mom got back
to the intros.

Everyone stood up
to greet us. “Hey, Nora,” a salt and pepper haired man spoke. He looked from
mom to me, “Hello, Mattie,” he said and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you,
I’m Hank.” His smile was warm and he looked genuinely glad to see us. I could
see where Garrett got his good looks. “Your grandma was a great lady, sorry for
your loss.”

Emotion welled up
inside me as I fought back tears. Not long ago, we lost grandma. She was the
kind of woman just about everybody knew and liked. Whenever I went out with
her—didn’t matter when or where—it was like watching six degrees of
separation. She’d see someone who looked familiar, and with her soft curls
styled into waves, make a beeline to talk to them. Sure enough, they’d turn out
to be an old school friend, or the brother or sister of someone she knew years
ago. If it weren’t for grandma knowing Hank’s wife, Sharon, we wouldn’t be here
now.

Sharon lamented that
the Mackenzie family needed more hands to help with their growing business.
Grandma knew just the person, and introduced mom. My grandma knew enough about
them to know they’d treat mom right. It helped that the lovely old Victorian
they operated out of had a couple vacant rooms. Mom needed a less stressful,
work-from-home option so she could recover from her heart attack. Each family
had something to gain. Grandma helped make the pitch, and it worked.

“I hear you’re real
smart and that you enjoy history,” Hank’s voice brought me back to the room.
“We’ve got some really old books and blueprints of the house if you’re
interested in the history of this place. Old-timers, like me, can even tell you
stories about the rivalry between us and the guys across the street.”

“Rivalry? Sounds
interesting.” I was genuinely curious. “Thank you. I’ll have to take you up on
it once we finish moving in.”

“And after you
register for classes,” mom nudged me.

Mom had checked
things out before she made the decision to move us here. It helped there was a
college nearby. Even though we had to watch our dollars, she encouraged me to
get back in school right away, at least part-time.

“It’s nice to have
you ladies here with us. Is everything ok upstairs?”

“Yes, Hank.
Everything is just about up and running. We have to finish unloading and
unpacking, but all is well. Thanks.”

“Glad to help. You
should be fine. Just watch out for Stanley. My dad’s a pretty good guy, but
he’s older and crankier than the rest of us. He likes to be involved and run
things the old-fashioned way. I’m laid back, which is why we argue sometimes. I
don’t think you’ll have any trouble, but we’ll let you know if he’s ever in one
of his moods so you can steer clear.” Hank laughed. Garrett shook his head and
smiled.

Just then two more
people entered the office. I noticed a large, chestnut-skinned woman with long
brown hair streaked blonde. She’d curled it to frame her face and it looked
attractive with her brown eyes and coral lipstick. A shorter guy about Garrett’s
age walked in behind her. He came up to me and tried to kiss my hand. I tensed
and he dropped it for a less awkward introductory handshake. “I’m Ryder. Nice
to meet you. I hear you almost ralphed when you saw Jimbo.”

“Jimbo?”

The woman spoke
with a deep Caribbean accent. “Ryder Mackenzie, where are your manners? Ya
oughtta be ashamed talking to a girl like that!” I didn’t know her name, but I
liked her already.

“He’s Garrett’s
younger brother, and sometimes forgets his manners. I’m Mildred. You can call
me Millie.” She shook my hand enthusiastically. “Or, you can call me Millie
Dread, like those rascals in charge call me.” She eyed Garrett. “What’s da
other one you guys use?”