unknown

unknown

A Story by ben

 

Startled awake by the alarm set for 4:30 am, Benny remains motionless in going over the start of his day. Boots laced and tied; ignition is turned to where the motor comes to life. Headlights on, his first stop is across the street from the Cadbury apartments. A cup of coffee close by, pressed between lips is a lit cigarette. Checking his watch, he’s got a handful of minutes left to himself. He thinks about Jane, the good parts anyway. Having a sip, and another drag, Benny lets go of yesterday as his boy Vincent with hair dyed to match his coal black eyes, taps on the window. Benny rolls it down. “What’s up?”

“It’s Lori, she’s all freaked out. She thinks we’re going to die.”

“Someday, we’re all going to anyways.”

Looking off to the stacked apartments, Vincent sighs and then says, “She’s going to hate me.” Climbing in on the passenger side, Vincent moves the car seat back before he clicks the seatbelt in place.

Behind the wheel, Benny takes in that last drag before flicking the butt out the window.

Sprung up from a lumber camp, Geary, Washington is tucked in the blue mountains where winters are harsh but as it is late summer now, the temperature is a modest sixty-four degrees.

Windows part way down and with the eight-cylinder purring along, Jake’s is the last stop. Pulling in, Benny fills up on coffee while Vincent heats up a breakfast wrap. Hanging out in front of the store, making noise, Benny says offhandedly. “Sun’s about to break.”

Gnawing down a bite, Vincent has a peek skyward before he says, “These used to taste better.”

Benny plays it cool in letting Vincent enjoy what could very well be his last meal. This leads to the overwhelming thought of pissing Lori off that has Benny swearing to himself that he will do what he can to make sure Vincent walks through that front door. With this in mind, Benny thinks about Jane. Cold as the winter months, what fire had, no more.

Pulling his mind free of all that is Jane, Benny has a look at the town he and his boy Vincent call home. Friends ever since each pricked their thumbs in becoming brothers, here they are standing out in front of Jakes at five thirty in the morning. Feeling that itch to get moving, Benny gives Vincent a look.

Vincent, in having that last bite, sees that Benny has run out of patience. Of the places to go, this one is far from his favorite. Way too late to make it a thing, Vincent opens the side door and climbs inside.

Hearing the click of the seatbelt, Benny slips the rig into reverse before shoving the gearshift into a low forward gear. Accelerating and with duel headlamps cutting through the dawn of morning, sitting on the passenger side, Vincent checks the time. Creeping up on six am, Vincent helps himself to Benny’s music collection. Finding an artist he likes, in it goes.

Allowing the music to rob them of their worries, neither say much of anything on their drive out beyond the city limits of Geary.  

 

 

 

The morning sun is peeking over Saunder’s ridge when Benny sees old man Pete’s mailbox. A country drive all in itself just to get up to the front porch, the sound of the two pulling in has Pete stepping outside. Checked red flannel under overalls, Vincent has always thought Pete looking like Santa’s brother being him having a white beard and rosy cheeks. “You boys want some coffee?” Invited inside the shell of a bus gutted and put back together, upon the pot belly stove putting out heat is an old-fashioned coffee pot. Mugs come off the shelf and after doing the honors of filling each, Pete draws up a kitchen chair as does Benny and Vincent. After a taste, Benny says to Pete, “I appreciate the coffee, but can we get on with it?” Pete holds his eyes on Benny before pushing away from the table and after hoisting his weight upon his feet, Pete walks over to a shelf. Inside is a short tube. Careful in its removal, Pete carries it over to Benny and Vincent.

“Here it is,” says Pete.

Vincent stares at the tube before he asks Pete, “What’s inside?”

Benny sits up straight while Pete gets to rolling his meaty hands together as he says to them, “The way in, and unfortunately, it’s the only way out.”

Benny reaches for his pack of smokes and after lighting the tip of one, he says through a cloud of bluish smoke, “Where the hell are we going?”

“Nobody know exactly where, but what I can tell you is that once you get by the field of rolling boulders and the bog of the dead, within the heart of the wicked forest will be a key hung from a string that will unlock a hidden door that will right everything wronged.”

“That’s it,” asks Vincent. “No fair maidens to save, or dragons to slay?”

Pete gives Benny a glance before he centers on Vincent. “Be warned, many just like you have failed.” At that moment, Vincent thinks about Lori screaming he is going to die and how he laughed at her for thinking this. Checking on Benny, sees that he is puffing away between having quick sips of coffee.

Pete says in an unhurried way, “There’s a creek out back. What you boys need to do is follow it upstream until you can see the remnants of a chimney. It will be on your right side. Go on and have a closer look and don’t be surprised if you see a door. What you need to do is open it and step through. Best if you do this together side by side.”  

Benny stubs out his smoke. “So, that’s our way in?”

Pete gives the two a solemn look, “If you find the key and unlock the door, it will be your way out, too.”

Vincent says to Pete, “Where do you fit into this?”

Pete draws from his mug and after placing it back onto the tabletop, Pete says, “If you find the key and unlock the door, then my friend, I too, will find myself home.” Vincent slows his mind way down, “How long?”

“A very long time,” says Pete. Benny presses his body up, Vincent doing the same.

There are no handshakes or brotherly hugs on their departure. Walking upstream, just like Pete said, on their right are the ruins of a homestead. Curiosity helps, and sure enough, there is a door. Benny opens it and after counting down from three, Benny and Vincent step through.



Chapter Two

 

The field of rolling boulders.

 

Blending in with the horizon, and after doing a three sixty in having a look around, Benny toes the ground before he drops to his haunches. Bone. Up to his feet and trying not to grimace, he says to Vincent, “Looks like we’re in the right place. Let’s have a look at the map.”  

Crude are the markings of two stick figures facing the sun. Moving left to right across the field of scribbly gray, there is a cave, or perhaps a tunnel. It is the stuff in between that has Vincent whistling softly as he goes to put the map away.

Standing side by side in looking out to the vast field, taking in a breath, Vincent looks over to Benny, “Let’s do this for Pete.” Benny is all smiles, “That’s what I am talking about.”

After a time of trudging through the mire, the two come to a field dimpled with deep indentations that has Vincent bringing up Lori promising him the world if he stays. Way too late for that, he joins Benny having a moment in scouting out what lie ahead.

“Stay next to me.” More of a command, Vincent knows what Benny means.

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2024 ben


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

280 Views
Added on December 14, 2023
Last Updated on January 14, 2024

Author

ben
ben

Writing
unknown unknown

A Story by ben


unknown unknown

A Story by ben


unknown unknown

A Story by ben