The Revelations of Preston Black (Murder Ballads and Whiskey Book 3) (26 page)

“You feel froggy? Then jump.” Ben
covered his face with his arm. “Or get out.”

“You do whatever you want. I just need
Pauly.”

“Well, I’m taking care of him,” Ben
said. “Gave him a Klonopin.”

“Thanks. I can see that. You didn’t
literally push him off the wagon, did you?”

“I hopped. I couldn’t think of any
other way to wrap my brain around what happened last night. If I stop to think
about it I’m gone, going to totally lose it, man,” Pauly growled from beneath
his arm. “So I’m going to hop again. All day long. Like I’m in a fucking bounce
castle.”

“A puke-scented bounce castle?” I slid
the vomit-filled trash-can out into the hall with my foot. “Like a redneck
Kennywood. You supposed to mix antidepressants with alcohol?”

“Who made you den mother anyway?” Ben
sat up real slow and rested his face in his palms. “Correct me if I’m wrong,
but the other day it was you on the floor, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m trying to make
it right. You don’t have to help, but you ain’t got to stand in my way either.
Besides, your dad and Rachael are on their way and we all have to give
statements. Coffee’s on in the kitchen and I’ll keep running water back to you
guys.”

Ben shook his head, dismissing me just
like that.

“What?” I said. “We got Katy, which
was supposed to be the hard part. Right? Getting her out seemed like a virtual
impossibility but we got her. And now she’s out there in the kitchen making beans.
You did that. With Pauly and me. We got her, man.”

Ben said, “Then why does this all feel
like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag?”

Pauly watched, like he hoped I had the
answers he needed too.

“Because we got loose ends to tie up.
We’re going to spend a lot of time answering questions. They found your Jeep
already, so they been to the camp.”

“Okay. Give me a few minutes.”

“Pauly?”

“Yeah, man. But stop being such a
fucking jag off. Let me go back to bed, okay? Been a while since I felt like
this and the body don’t recover like it used to.”

“You ain’t going to go running off or
anything?”

“Stop being so nebby, Grandma. I’m
going to sleep, think about how I ain’t got a fucking thing to look forward to.
Later I’ll call my sponsor and tell him I made a deal with the devil.”

I thought about the plan I’d put
together in my head, a way to end all this in one shot, and said, “You may want
to hold off on that, man.”

“Why’s that?”

Ben stood, stretched, and walked into
the hall. “He ain’t going to do nothing stupid, Pres. Just let him work this
out in his head, will you?”

“We got this, Pauly. Okay? I took care
of this once and I can do it again. As far as I know I’m the only person who
can and I’m telling you I’ll take care of this. Trust me.”

He put his arm back over his face.
“Hit the light, please.”

I flipped the switch and shut the
door. When I turned, the sight of Ben still standing there gave me a bit of a
start. “Jesus, man.”

He pushed me down the hall. “He talked
in his sleep all night. About dead people. Must’ve woke him up from nightmares
six or seven times.” He grabbed my arm as I walked away. “What the hell is
Pauly talking about? Is this real?”

I shrugged and tried to pull away. Ben
wouldn’t let go of my arm.

“Maybe your dad can explain it to you.
I spent a year talking about this to anybody who’d listen and him and Katy are
the only ones who believed me.” I put my head down and went back toward the
kitchen. “Until now.”

Simoneaux
had said that, “Cuttin’ your own switch is the price of forgettin’ your
manners” before he went outside to greet Jamie and Rachael and Chloey.

Which I knew, because Pauly’s grandma
raised us the same way. No matter how you chose you ended up black and blue.

Lesson learned.

We watched their arrival from behind
the buzzing blue and red neon tubes of the “Dixie Beer 45” sign that hung in
the big front window. Our punishment kept us confined to the relative safety of
Simoneaux’s juke joint. Grounded against temptation.

But Rachael didn’t spend much time
outside. She burst through the door and greeted Katy with a long embrace.
Katy’s little sister, Chloey, came in on Rachael’s heels and the three of them
held each other for a long time. I still stunk of shame, and ducked into the
kitchen like I hadn’t heard Rachael ask where I was.

“Preston!” Chloey shouted. “Get out
here, scaredy cat.”

With my head hanging down I went back
out, even though I felt like I didn’t belong in that unit. Felt like it’d been
my responsibility to keep Katy safe, and that I’d failed. And when Rachael
pulled me into the circle with her girls a wave of guilt hit me.

Chloey said, “Does somebody need his
belly rubbed?”

I relaxed as Rachael held me tighter.
She smelled like home, like she’d accidentally brought a bit of the mountain
spring down in her coat and scarf. Rushing water and lonely winter birds. When
she finally let me go, she said, “Elaine packed biscuits and elderberry jam if
you kids want any.”

I shook my head.

“Mom’s cousin, Elaine Collins? From
Boone?” Katy exhaled slowly.

I still didn’t follow.

“Jesus, Preston, we stayed with her
after that workshop at Appalachian State? She had that cat that ate pizza and
spaghetti?”

“Oh, yeah. My head still ain’t right.”
Through the side window I watched Jamie nod while Simoneaux showed him the
bottle tree out front, pointing to the blue bottles specifically.

“Going to take a lot more than a
bottle tree to stop what’s coming,” Katy said, before leading her mom and
sister to the back to get freshened up.

“You think?” I said, still watching,
wondering if it could get worse before it got better. I knew it could always
get worse.

While Katy got back to chopping onions
and garlic in the kitchen, with Chloey at her hip, yapping, Simoneaux told me
and Ben to stack the tables and chairs on the stage. Then, before stepping back
out to help Jamie carry stuff in from the car, Simoneaux added, “Put a real
quick shine on that floor while you’re at it. Dust mop’s in the closet.”

“That’s all you,” Ben said, before
disappearing behind the bar as soon as Simoneaux left. He grabbed a bottle of
something brown and drifted toward the hallway.

Thinking that he kept Pauly from
sobering up ate at me, especially since I felt like Pauly needed something more
right now. “Ben. That all for you?”

“Half of it is.” He turned toward the
door.

“I thought we agreed to let him sober
up?”

“Don’t you go getting your gussies up.
Besides, I don’t remember agreeing to that.” He pushed the door open and
drifted back to the storeroom as Katy came through carrying a big tray of clean
highball glasses.

“Your cousin’s starting to piss me
off.” I walked over to the closet and grabbed the dust mop.

“Tell him about it.” She stacked the
glasses onto a shelf beneath the bar.

“For real? That’s your answer?”

“Yup. He’s pouting and Pauly’s scared.
And drinking is better than fighting, which you know is what Ben wants. He came
home less than six months before Jane died, then all that with the Lewises
happened, so my guess is that a big part of him never left Jalalabad. He pops
those antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds like they’re Gummy Bears. There’s a
thin line between PTSD and addiction.” She walked to the end of the bar,
sliding the tray along the top as she went. “But his attitude is going to come
in real handy over the next few days.”

I met her at the end.

“Listen,” she said, laying her head on
my chest. “Right now Ben is taking care of Pauly, and by extension, of himself.
That’s where I want them both. Out of our hair. I’ll tell them when they need
to be on their toes. And you’ll help me make sure they are.”

“I don’t want trouble with Ben.”

“Then don’t give any. You look at him,
and say, ‘Ben, give me a hand with this.’ Don’t order him and don’t ask him.”

“And when he ignores me?”

“Then you can say ‘please.’ It’s up to
you. This is the kind of stuff I deal with all the time. Club owners and drink
tabs. Insurance on the rentals. Deposits on the gear. Look at it as a
promotion.” She patted my shoulder.

“Well, if you’re giving me your old
job what are you going to be doing?”

“Preston…” She crossed her arms. “I’m
doing my best to make sure everybody leaves here in one piece. That’s why I
want Ben and Pauly in the back—drinking, if need be—and you watching everything
Jamie and Simoneaux do. Tonight’s going to be a long one. You’re going to be
front and center for all of it.”

“You really think they’re going to
find us here?”

“I think the fact that you asked me
that shows how important it is you stick with Jamie and Simoneaux. Mom and
Chloey are going to babysit Pauly and Ben tonight.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m going to be wherever you are. I’m
never leaving you again.”

“I’m sorry, Katy. I really am.” I
pulled her head back to my shoulder.

She resisted a bit before closing her
eyes and giving in. Her tears warmed my shirt. I rested my cheek on her head.
The thought of her being violated sparked something dark in me. I did my best
to hide my rage, but the way she grabbed my fist, and slid her fingers into
mine, told me I hadn’t done such a great job.

“He’s dead, babe. I saw him blown into
heaven with my own eyes.” She sniffled.

“He wasn’t the only one. Boggs?”

“They don’t matter right now. They’re
ants and we’re about to have a lion problem.”

And before I could say anything else,
Simoneaux came through the front door with my Tele and the road case with our
mics in it. He pointed at the beer taps and said, “Darling, would you be so
kind to pass that big box of kosher over to your man?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Simoneaux.” She
handed it to me with a smirk. “See? A promotion.”

“Just Simoneaux, Miss Stefanic. After
Preston cleans the floor like I asked him to, he’s going to pour a little pile
of salt in each corner, then wait for me before doing anything else.” Simoneaux
wiped his brow in exaggerated frustration. “Think he can do that?”

“Want me to ask?” Katy smiled. “Can
you manage, my love?”

“Yeah. Clean the floor. Then pour salt
all over it.”

And when I finished doing what
Simoneaux’d asked, he went into the dead center of the dance floor and poured
the rest of the salt into a neat little mound. He said, “Preston, go on into
the back and get me four cans of lye from the storage room.”

Since avoiding the storage room had
been part of my plan, especially with Ben holed up in there, I dragged my feet
down the hall before stopping and listening at the door. When I didn’t hear
anything, I flipped the light on and pushed the door open.

“Damn it, Ben…”

The floor was empty. Ben’s shit had
been removed. The office, where Katy and I’d spent the night, was unoccupied
too. I whipped around, rushed back up the hall, and busted through the kitchen
door.

First thing I saw was Pauly with his
head in his hand sitting behind a ginormous plate of biscuits and gravy. Ben
sat next to him, his mouth full. Chloey stood right over Ben, chirping about
the pictures in her phone. Ben looked up at me. Pauly didn’t.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Rachael asked
from behind the wall of steam that rose from a pot. Smelled like cayenne and
garlic.

But I felt guilty for assuming they’d
run off and said, “What the hell’s lye?”

“They use it for hominy and a bunch of
other stuff. Probably comes in a can.”

Katy pushed through the door. “C’mon.”
Ben watched as I backed out of the kitchen, eyeing me suspiciously as he sopped
his plate with a biscuit. As the door swung shut, he said, “Don’t let it hit
you where the good Lord split you.”

Katy grabbed my arm and pulled me down
the hall. “Preston, he’s blowing off steam, okay?” She opened the door, found
the lye and held a can up for inspection.

“Get the hell out of here.”

“Yep.” She said, “Red Devil Lye,” and
went back to the kitchen.

When I got to the front Simoneaux was
placing another armload of our gear on the stage. Jamie came in from the cold
with Katy’s fiddle and a few mic booms.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

“Don’t you worry about that.”
Simoneaux took the lye from me. “We’ll get to the music as soon as we finish
‘evil-proofing’ the house.”

“’Evil-proofing?’”

“Yup,” he said, passing the lye off to
Andre.

After that, everything happened a lot
faster. Jamie went into the yard with Andre to bury a Red Devil can in each
corner, labels facing inward, for protection. Simoneaux took a wooden crate
filled with tall blue bottles out to an old tree on the corner and placed them
on the dead limbs, making a second bottle tree. Rachael worked at the back
door, scrawling Inscriptions into the lintel with chalk and coal ash and
prepping the storeroom and office with witch balls and bundles of ash twigs.