Nathan Shumate - Redneck Eldritch

Published by

Cold Fusion Media

http://www.coldfusionmedia.us

REDNECK ELDRITCH

This collection copyright 2016 by Cold Fusion Media.

All stories copyright 2016 by their respective authors.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

Cover illustration by Carter Reid

Cold Fusion Media

http://www.coldfusionmedia.us

Smashwords Edition

The glass is empty, apart from a foamy film in the bottom. I set it down on the bar next to my lighter and my pack of smokes. Id like to order a fourth beer right away, but I figure I better pace myself. Remembering the task at hand, I tilt my head to get a gander around the Jager display, past the pull-tabs, to where you and your friends are holding court.

Ive seen your type plenty. Time was you were few and far between, but now youre all over the place like ants. It started with a trickle. Scouts looking for new territory. You came here cause houses were cheap, at least compared to the city. But our houses werent good enough. So you knocked them down and put up those condo buildings. Then your businesses figured they could come out here as well, lower their overhead. And so more of you came out and bought houses and apartments, and the prices went up, and then the folks that lived here before couldnt afford it anymore and had to move away.

I always thought this bar would stay true. The Hole was a local dive for decades. But now its more of a typical sports bar and most of the locals are gone. I see they have beers with names Ive never heard. Some are dark and thick as syrup. The menu even has a veggie burger. The Hole I knew would never have stooped to this before you lot showed up in your Subarus. Sometimes I wonder, If this bar goes where will we find the people we need? The bars original owners are long gone; do their grandchildren even know where the bar gets its name from?

You and the after-work crowd have moved four tables together like youre expecting a large group, but theres just six of you, and Im guessing most of you are too pussy to keep drinking, so that number will dwindle soon enough.

Another beer, Ray? Abby wipes down the bar and takes my empty glass. Shes new, but Im not one to complain about her. Shes too good-looking to complain about and besides, she gets it. When one of the old gang is here, we get our drinks before any of you geeks.

I nod, though I should really slow down. Its not even dark out and I have a feeling its going to be a long night. I reach for my pack of Winstons and the lighter sitting on the bar. Abby frowns. I know, I got to take it outside. Fucking gentrification. Ive twisted a cardboard beer coaster into a totem-man. I leave him standing guard over my place at the bar. Ill have that beer when I get back.

The sun is setting as I pass by the faded Monday Night Football Bud Light display and step out to the parking lot where theyve relegated anyone who might want a smoke.

I wince at the glow topping the tree line. Do I have the right day? Late summer in the Cascades, the days arent as crazy long as they were just a week or two ago, but they havent given in to the dark months yet.

The whispers said this was the right day, or at least this would be the right night. I could swear it. Though who knows? Its not like theyre known for their clarity. They expect that were able to interpret. Sometimes its more of a feeling than an understanding that guides our hand to appease them.

Once Ive killed my cigarette, I reach into my kit bag for the bone pipe, carved from the femur of my predecessors predecessor. I run my finger down the runes lining the pipe and then I trill a few notes. Theres no response. Nothing. Not even birds singing. All I can hear is the dull murmur of the jukebox through the glass. I trill a few more, but still get no response.

Here goes nothing. I pull the shaker out of my jacket pocket. Its an old Indian prayer stick. Its got juju, but Ive always sort of liked the rattle, magic or not. I play the notes with the flute again, this time with an accompanying percussion from the rattle. Smoke rises from the ash tray to my side and begins to swirl around me.

Quiet. And then in answer I hear it in the distance, a low rattle of a large, nasty, oil-burning engine. A beast of a GMC Suburban lurches into the parking lot otherwise filled with German sedans and your fucking Subaru.

Theyre coming. The apostles of the soil are on their way. Knowing I have the right date, I head back in for my beer.

***

Ricky and his brothers come into the bar with a full head of steam. Rickys cap is pulled to the right side. His older brother, Austin, has put on some pounds since the last time I saw him. His gut hangs out from the bottom his shirt, sticking through his denim vest. The youngest, Wade, has never been a light one. Now hes pear-shaped. Touched in the head even more than the rest, Wade waddles side to side as much as he moves forward.

Your table hasnt noticed the new arrivals. I suppose thats for the best.

Ricky and I make eye contact through the gaps in the beer taps lining the bar. He grins, but doesnt come this far back. He takes a table at the front of the bar on the other side of the pool tables. Theyre far enough away that I cant hear when Nancy, the waitress working the tables, takes their order. She returns a moment later with a pitcher of beer. They all sit on the same side of the table, keeping their eyes on your group.

Even over the jukebox, I can hear Wades donkey-bray of a laugh. For a moment, Im worried it will give the game away, but either no one at your table notices or you dont get that hes laughing at you.

Rickys too cool. He keeps his brothers in line, long enough to make sure that you finish your drinks and that you order again, before he goes to your table. Sooner or later Ricky will take my place. None of the others have the wits left to do it.

I can imagine what he says. The boy has a charm about him, but I notice that you cast wary eyes toward his brothers at the next table. When the waitress returns, Ricky does the talking. This should help fashion the lure. Youve been looking at her tits all afternoon, and its clear he knows her. Maybe hell help you to get to know her. Ooh! Hes ordered a round of shots. Good. This should speed things along nicely.

Two more rounds and youre playing pool with Ricky and his brothers. There are a couple of empty pitchers next to the pool table, and the waitress is returning with a tray of shot glasses.

The sun is down now and time is moving. You might have somewhere to be, I catch you glancing at your watch, and I sure hope Ricky catches it too. You say something to him. Probably something like, Its getting late. Or I gotta work in the morning, even on a Saturday.

This is it. Rickys gotta give you the sell now. Hell size you up and figure what itll take. A party somewhere with free drinks? Girls? Maybe hell even lure you with the waitress and her friends, tell you theyre coming after their shift ends. Hell take your comment about having to work Saturday and tell you to live a little. If you work hard, youve earned the right to play hard too.

Youre considering and I dont think youre going for it. Im out of my chair wondering if Ill have to step in when I see the look on your face change. You shrug and probably say something like, Ill go for one drink.

I can tell he has you hooked. Its just a matter of time now.