Chapter 7 #3
“There were two hikers a few decades back. Some say they lost their way and died of dehydration. Others think they were attacked by some feral mountain men rumored to live out here somewhere. No one really knows, and it was so long ago that the people who might know aren’t around anymore.
Aside from that, this place is notorious for accidents.
Sure, it looks all pretty and serene, but it’s dangerous if you don’t know where you’re going.
People have actually fallen over the edge of the cliffs and died.
” Feeling hot and sticky in my button-up shirt and polyester slacks, I rolled up my sleeves and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.
“Do you know where the bodies were found? The hikers, I mean,” Marty asked a little too excitedly. “We could go take a look. I bet there are other bodies around. Bones buried in the dirt beneath your feet.”
I pointed farther down the path. “I’m not sure.
I was told it was that way somewhere, but I couldn’t tell you the exact spot.
One summer, my friend Jeremy and I tried looking and almost got lost. We didn’t go far off the path, but all these trees look the same and it’s easy to get turned around.
We did find a deer carcass, but nothing human.
Though I wouldn’t be surprised if there were other bodies out here.
Some say this whole place is a graveyard.
Like I said, people have accidents and go missing from time to time. ”
“I’m surprised people are still allowed up here. You’d think they’d cordon it off as a hazard to the public or something,” Marty remarked.
I shrugged. “They added some warning signs down at the end before you get to the overlook. Removes liability if people are still stupid enough to walk along the edge.”
Unsolved death left a scar on the soul of a place, and Jagged Point was no different. You felt it here. In the air. In the dirt. A pallor of gloom you could never quite shake.
The air was thick and heavy, but it was more than the humidity that was making me sweat.
There had always been something about this place that held a ghoulish fascination for me.
It was beautiful, but it also felt like were never quite alone.
As if there was something—or someone—watching you from the trees.
Like ghosts had congregated in silent observation as you made your way along the path. Sometimes you could almost hear them whispering.
If you listened hard enough, you could hear your name being called from the depths of the trees.
Which is why I always wore headphones here. Everyone knew it was a bad thing to hear your name on the wind and even worse if you responded.
Once at the overlook, we stopped to catch our breath. Surprisingly, we were alone. Marty pulled out a couple of bottles of Coors from his bag and cracked them open using his lighter before handing one to me. We clinked them together and each took a long drink.
From our viewpoint, we could see the whole town and beyond. It seemed so small and inconsequential from up here, and yet, I knew Fern River was the beginning and ending of everything that made up my world.
“Real pretty,” Marty said, still sounding out of breath.
“Yeah. This is my favorite spot in the county.” I took a big gulp and watched as Marty rolled another joint then put it between his lips and lit it. The pungent smell filled my nostrils, and I found myself relaxing for the first time in forever.
“Can I ask you somethin’?” Marty took a long drag and stared out over the valley below.
“Sure,” I replied without taking my eyes off the view.
“How’d you get with a woman like that?”
I turned to look at Marty in surprise, not sure if he was joking. “What do you mean?”
Marty held the joint between his fingers, a smirk on his lips. “Not to be an asshole, but you two don’t strike me as comin’ from the same side of town, if you know what I mean. She’s Miss Prim and Proper and you’re … Well, look at you. You ain’t the usual college boy type, are ya.”
I laughed, and it felt like a real one instead of something forced. I didn’t take offense, though maybe I should have, but Marty was right. On paper Lucy and I should never have been together. I was kind of a dork. Always had been. But how to explain that to him so he’d understand?
“We’ve been together since sophomore year of high school.
We hit it off, I guess. I was shocked as hell when she spoke to me.
But she was the most popular girl in school, and it felt pretty damn good to have someone like her want to date me.
” I drank more of the warm beer, enjoying the taste of it way more than the booze-free cocktail from earlier.
“It doesn’t hurt that she’s got tits and ass for days, right?” Marty added with a salacious grin.
I choked on my beer, and he laughed as I spluttered. I wasn’t entirely sure how to take the comment. I didn’t like how he kept talking about Lucy like that, but it was obvious he meant it as a compliment.
“Oh, come on, don’t act like a fuckin’ grandma. Pretty girl like that would make any man hard as a rock.” He grabbed his crotch to make his point. “You must be a walkin’, talkin’ hard-on with that chick in your bed. I salute you, my friend.”
“Sure,” I replied, my cheeks heating uncomfortably.
“Man, the things I would do to a woman like that. You gotta take charge, show her who’s boss. You get me?” Marty licked his lips.
“I get you,” I responded weakly.
Marty nodded to himself. “If you let a woman think she’s in control, you’ll be doin’ it missionary style for the rest of your goddamn life. Grab her by the hair and bend her over, my man. Otherwise you’ll be lickin’ her boots instead of her lickin’ yours.”
I stared at him open mouthed, unsure how to reply.
Who really thought like that? Did all men have these kinds of ideas?
Growing up without a dad, I didn’t have much of a man’s view of the world.
I only had my mom to teach me how things worked.
As I listened to Marty, I realized how much I had missed.
How much I didn’t know. Because the way I looked at things may not be the way other guys did.
Maybe a man like Marty could teach me a thing or two.
“You want a hit?” Marty asked, holding out the joint.
This time I nodded and took it. I had smoked weed once before, but Lucy didn’t like it so I never had again.
I took a drag, choking on the thick smoke but also enjoying the instant dulling of my senses.
The weed made my thoughts feel heavy, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Marty’s comments about Lucy.
I had never talked about Lucy like that. She’d be horrified to hear Marty objectify her. But I found myself chuckling dryly and agreeing when I probably should have told him to keep his mouth shut.
But maybe, in some crude way, Marty had it right.
I didn’t subscribe to patriarchal bullshit, but sometimes, with Lucy, and particularly her family, I did feel emasculated.
I had lost control of my life somewhere along the way, and I knew it had set the tone for how our lives would be together.
Marty’s off-color remarks only highlighted how little power I had.
Perhaps what I needed was to assert myself more and stop letting Lucy’s parents run the show.
Then I’d grab Lucy by the hair and show her who’s boss once in a while.
I wasn’t sure I liked having that thought bouncing around in my head. It felt wrong.
But also oddly liberating.
“What brings you to Fern River?” I asked Marty, feeling like I should change the subject.
“Just passing through,” he said. “Earning a few bucks before moving on again.”
I wondered what that kind of life would be like. Jenn lived like that, and it seemed Marty did too.
I had been raised to think there was a certain order to things. You graduated from high school, went to college, got married, got a job, and settled down. I knew Lucy had been conditioned to think the same thing.
“But what if there’s more to life than that?” I murmured to myself.
“What?” Marty looked at me questioningly.
“Nothing,” I muttered, embarrassed I had said my angsty inner thoughts out loud.
“Truth is, I’m searching for someone,” he continued. “Been on the road for a while now, looking for her.”
“Is it an ex or something?” I asked.
“Or something.” He gave me a sly grin. “Women these days don’t know a good thing when they have it.” His expression took on a tinge of anger. “I’d like to go back to how it used to be. When men were men and women were women, none of this modern feminist bullshit.”
I thought about my own mom. She worked hard to provide for me, but growing up, I hated that she never had time to bake me cookies or iron my clothes before school. It pissed me off that she was never around when I needed her.
Wasn’t that why I was working so hard? To one day have my own kids and give them everything I had missed out on? So my wife didn’t have to go to work and could stay home. I wanted the kind of life Marty was talking about, where a woman could be traditional and the man could be the one providing.
And wasn’t that partly what drew me to Lucy?
She was strong-willed and smart, which I respected, but she was also content to focus on being a good, traditional mother.
One that baked cakes, packed lunches, and went to the park after school.
She had loose ideas for a career, but she also seemed to want the same things out of a family and marriage I did, so I knew she wasn’t really serious about any of them.
The main thing was that she felt like she had options, even if deep down we both knew what she was going to do with her life.
“I don’t know, man, that doesn’t sound very progressive.” I didn’t want to offend him, but I couldn’t not say anything.