Satan Smiled
The sun rose above the eastern horizon and with it came the heat. From the first moment it peeked over the distant mountains you knew it was going to be a scorcher of the first magnitude. Walter shaded his eyes and looked off into the distance; he wasn't sure what he was looking for but he had done this every mourning since he and Gert had moved out to this God-forsaken hell two years ago. So he was a bit startled by the billowing dust cloud that was moving slowly toward him in the distance. From the amount of dust being raised he was sure it was a vehicle of one kind or another. Walter was very good at identifying dust clouds; it was his primary source of entertainment. Hell, Walter could tell if one jackrabbit or two was producing a dust cloud. This was the first indication of another human existence, other than Gert's snoring, he had seen in this area for the last six months. He had been suffering in this hellhole, heat burdened day after heat burdened day with no one to talk to except Gert, and talk’n ta Gert had become a pure burden just like the heat. One month of talk’n ta nobody but that old bag had damned sure been enough. Damn, Walter thought to himself, sure do wish we could get the hell outta this oven. The dust cloud was getting bigger and moving faster now, indicating that the vehicle, who ever it was, was getting closer. Guess I better call Gert he thought but he didn't move or call out. He stood a moment longer watching as company rolled along in his direction. The anticipation of a break in the monotony of his existence brought a small smile to his face. He recalled their last visitors and hoped these would last a little longer, this sure as hell was a lonely place. Walter could make out the front end of a black sedan in the dust cloud, and then he turned and called out for Gert. "Hey, Gert, we got company come'n." Walter returned his attention to the vehicle that was speeding into his domain; he paid no attention to the immense woman who came to the front door and momentarily peered through the tattered screen. He heard the hinges squeal and felt the porch planking sag when she opened the door and stepped out onto the seasoning porch; he did not turn around. Walter and Gert watched silently, as the sedan became more distinct as it bounced down the two sandy ruts that pretended to be a road. They both knew that anybody come'n down this road was either lost or run'n, of course which didn't matter much to Walter and Gert. That there would be company was the only thing that mattered. This meant that for a time at least the loneliness would end. Someone to talk too besides Walter thought Gert. Someone to talk too besides Gert thought Walter. "Well Gert, we best be get'n things ready," Walter said as he stepped down the porch steps, skipping the broken one in the middle. Walter ambled toward the outhouse a hundred yards away. "Just like your shiftless behind, head'n for the crapper leave'n all the work ta me," Gert mumbled as she returned to the dark interior of the rundown cabin. There really wasn't much to do, Gert shuffled across the age worn floor and sat down in a heavy wooden chair with a sigh. Nothing to do now but wait. Danny was mad; he hadn't been pissed like this for quite some time and if he hadn't a been in a serious hurry he might have killed somebody. Of course if this didn't work, he still might kill somebody. William (Wee Willie) Church was keeping very quiet, Danny was angry and he was the reason why. Willie deemed it a prudent thing to keep still; he had seen Danny kill people for less than his mistake. Both men bounced along in silence each keeping his thoughts to himself. Willie kept a death grip on the steering wheel as the car leapt and bounced along what seemed like twin ditches interrupted at various intervals by boulders. His grip on the wheel was the only thing keeping him in the front seat. He was absolutely positive that if he were to relinquish his grasp in the space of a second, or so, he would end up in the back seat. If that were to happen he was certain that Danny would kill him. As it was, he still flinched every time Danny groaned after his head was slammed into the sedan's roof. Bounce-groan-muffled curse-flinch, and so it went, Willie was simply thankful they had apparently evaded the police. Now, if they could only find someplace to lay low until the heat was off, everything would be OK! Bounce-groan-muffled curse-flinch. Damn, where the hell was this would-be road going, Danny wondered as the landscape outside leapt in erratic disarray across his vision? Danny too was maintaining a severe grip on the front and back of the seat in an attempt to keep from breaking his neck. He was having only limited success at this endeavor and this was not making him any happier. "Hey! Hey! God Damn it, slow down," Danny screamed. Willie immediately let up on the gas pedal and the car slowed drastically; the terrain outside calmed down to the pitch and roll of a ship-at-sea and Danny began to point out his window. "Pull over there," he said, still pointing. Suddenly Willie saw it too; a short distance off the road was a ramshackle cabin with a lean-to protruding from one side. In the yard sat the rusting hulks of several very old cars. There were also a few listless and scraggly looking chickens that appeared to be stumbling about. No one was in evidence as the big sedan slowly rolled to a halt twenty yards from the front porch. Willie put the car in park and he and Danny sat inside and waited as the cloud of dust they had raised drifted past them. Then, their attention was drawn to a loud squealing noise of to their left. Both men looked in that direction and watched as a beanpole of a man came out of an outhouse that seemed to lean drastically to one side. The man looked at them and waved like they were welcomed kinfolk, Danny and Willie waved back dumbly. Danny turned to say something to Willie and nearly died of heart failure. "Shit!" Danny said as he forced his back against the car door and reached under his jacket. Pressed against the glass of Willie's window was the face of a huge woman, a least Danny thought it was a woman. Willie snapped his head around to see what the problem was with Danny and was himself startled by the face in the window. The woman seemed genuinely pleased by their reactions and laughed loudly as she pulled away from the window. When the face disappeared from the window and Danny had slightly eased his grip on the revolver under his coat, he was suddenly treated to another surprise. The door he was leaning against suddenly removed its support and Danny nearly fell out of the car. He released his hold on the but of the gun and grabbed frantically at the frame of the car; Danny found himself hanging halfway out of the car and looking up into the smiling face of the beanpole. "Well, howdy stranger’best be careful there, this cheer ain't no good place ta be light’n on your rear. Chicken shit all over the place." The beanpole laughed heartily and the huge woman cackled insanely. Danny cursed under his breath and Willie hurried to assist Danny from his predicament. This small commotion took a second or two and presently everybody was standing, and a round of introduction and lying began. "Sorry bout the mishap stranger, but we don’t get many visitors out our way and me’n the missus tend ta git kinda excited," Walter began. "Yea, yea, yea, that’s ok," Danny replied testily as he checked the cut of his jacket and made sure everything was still where it was supposed to be. "Hey, boss-what bout the car?" Willie began but pulled up short when Danny looked at him hard and mean. "Shut up-Willie," Danny growled. "Excuse me mister," Danny paused and waited. "Ooh yea, I'm sorry," Walter began, "I'm Walter, Walter Grayson and that's Gert the missus." Walter stuck out his hand. "My name is Danny Randle and my friend there is Willie." Danny took Walter's hand and shook it briefly. "Proud ta met you gents," Walter stated firmly. "You all come on in outta this god-forsaken heat." "Yea, that'd be good, but do ya think it'd be ok for Willie ta pull the car under the lean-to?" "Sure no problem t'all," Walter replied. Danny nodded to Willie who scurried of to do his bidding. Danny turned and followed Walter and Gert up the stairs, carefully avoiding the broken middle stair as he had seen the others do. The inside of the cabin was dim, far larger than expected, and much cooler than would have been imagined. Danny stood just inside the door to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark interior. The main room he found himself in was barren and rough, except for the floor, which seemed to be smooth as glass from use. There was a low table of some nondescript wood in the center of the room; there were three wooden chairs of normal size and one wooden chair that was huge. The damn thing was more like a throne, rough and crude-yes, but massive and regal also. At the back of the room on opposite sides from each other were two doors, Gert went immediately to the throne and lowered her considerable bulk into it with an audible sigh; Walter went to the back of the room and through the door on the right. "Have a seat Mr. Randle," Gert offered with a sweep of one fat jiggling arm. Danny eased into the room and sat gingerly on the edge of one of the other chairs in the room. There was a forced silence as Gert leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes; Danny began to fidget where he sat not knowing what to do. He was incredibly relieved when Willie came from parking the car. "Say, what’s the matter with them chickens out there? A couple of em fell over, they sick or somethin?" Willie asked as he stood just inside the door waiting until he could see clearly. "Oh, don’t you pay them no mind little feller," Gert chuckled, "Them silly ass birds done got into Walter’s roomatiz medicine. It don’t hurt’em none and it sure does make em easier ta catch." So the old guy is run’n a still, Danny thought. Danny also wondered where Walter had gotten off to. Willie broke in on his thoughts, "Ya know Boss, this place is stick’n right outta the side a that big hill in the back, damndest thing I ever saw." "Sure Honey," Gert interrupted, "almost half this front section is under that hill and the back rooms is dug outta that hill. Makes this place easy ta heat and easy ta cool. That was my daddy’s do’n." "Mrs. Grayson, don’t you all have any electricity, radios, TV’s, or any of the modern niceties?" Danny asked. "Don’t need none a them things out here, Honey. We got ourselves a deep water well in the back. Every six months or so that shiftless husband a mine takes Eddy and Teddy, our two mules, and goes the thirty miles ta town for our canned goods; once a year the propane feller comes out and fills the tank, and we don’t give a shit bout what’s going on with them city folks." Gert paused a second then added, "Bout the only thing we really miss is fresh meat, other than chicken, gits awful tired a chicken. Sometimes Walter’ll catch a rattler, used ta be on occasion Walter would shoot a Peccary but we don’t see many a them anymore and besides Walter ain’t had shells for the shotgun in over a year. Yes Honey we do miss fresh meat," she concluded. The only thing that interested Danny in her entire little speech was the fact that there was no ammunition for the shotgun. Danny had decided that this was going to be the perfect place to lay low. Walter reentered the room still beaming and offered them a drink; he was carrying a bottle of well-aged Wild Turkey and four glasses. Everyone took a glass and Walter poured, with everybody seated there was a short silence while they all took a sip of the fiery liquid. After that Danny sat back and made his plans and the others began a never-ending conversation. Walter and Gert talked about everything; they badmouthed each other; they berated the world in general; they bemoaned the state of humanity, and they badmouthed each other. Everybody got drunker and drunker, until the old lady suddenly heaved her great bulk up out of her seat and told Walter it was time to turn in. "Show the gents their sleep’n places and git your ass ta bed," she slurred. Walter whined like a petulant child, "Awe, damn it I’m have’n fun," he wailed. But he got up as she had demanded and waved for Danny and Willie to follow him. Danny staggered to his feet and nearly fell not realizing how drunk he was. Willie was a bit steadier, but not by much. Danny and Willie half held each other and stumbled behind Walter to the door at the back of the room to the left. They entered a long dark hall that was barely lit by a series of oil lamps on the wall. When the door closed behind them Walter spoke again. "That’s why I don’t like get’n that woman drunk, she gets all fired randy, and now I’m gonna have ta do her. Shit goddamn, I should’a pretended ta pass out. Probably wouldn’t a done no good though. A mans gotta do what a mans gotta do." He paused in front of a door, stepped back so they could enter, turned to leave, as he departed Danny heard him mumble, "I’m come’n you old bag." Danny and Willie stumbled into the room where they found an oil lamp burning on a nightstand that was set between two single beds that were nicely turned down. Danny faintly remembered thinking, just like a motel room, before he drifted off into a land where bad guys ruled the world and he ruled the bad guys. Danny slept well. Each dawning brought the same results, Walter would get up somewhere around six each morning and go out to do some kind of chores; Gert woke up at about seven and prepared coffee; anything else anybody might have wanted, it was incumbent upon them to get it. Danny made it a point not to allow himself or Willie to leave their room until at least nine. This was mostly because as soon as they showed up the never ending bickering between Walter and Gert would begin and a never-ending string of questions from both of them. Then for the entire day he and Willie would hang around while fat ass Gert snorted, spat, and scratched, as she wandered around the cabin. Occasionally she would go to the screen door, look out and complain about what ever Walter was or wasn’t doing. Walter mainly stayed outside and puttered around the yard, every now and again he would curse one thing or another and say something rude about Gert; every couple of hours or so Walter would come into the cabin, fart, spit tabacco, and laugh, before going back outside. Quite frankly this routine was wearing on Danny’s nerves and on the fourth day Danny had decided that Walter and Gert would simply have to be dealt with. That evening after they had eaten and retired to their room, Danny looked at Willie and put his finger to his lips to indicate silence. Danny got up from his bed and went to the door; he checked outside the room, peering down the corridor. Danny came back and sat down beside Willie. "Listen, Willie. We been here four days now and we ain’t seen no police or nobody else. And Willie these two old coots are drive’n me nuts. I’m sure ain’t nobody gonna be look’n for us out here, and I’m surer than hell ain’t no body gonna miss these two." Danny paused and looked over his shoulder, as if he were afraid of being discovered. Danny lowered his voice even more and then continued, "Willie we gonna do these old fools." "When boss?" Willie blurted as he got excited. "Be quiet, you damned idiot," Danny snarled. "I figger tamarra right after we eat, that way we can get’em buried while its cool’n down, git the money out a the car and see how much we got." "How long we gonna stay out here Boss?" "Maybe three or four more days after we bump these two off. I don’t figger anybody’ll be still look’n for us so close ta that bank. We get rid a these folks, hang here a few more days, then drive the hell on out ta L.A., and live easy for a while." Danny laid back on the bed and smiled to himself, "This is gonna work out just fine, just fine." Danny got up and started to get ready for bed, "Go to sleep Willie, we’re gonna be busy tamarra." "Sure Boss." The next morning dawned just as each of the others had and the routine was the same, some how the bickering and incessant chatter didn’t bother Danny as much as before. Whenever Walter or Gert began to get on his nerves Danny simply thought about the plan, and he felt better. Still as the day dragged on Gert spat and scratched, Walter laughed and farted, and Danny waited. Dinner came, chicken as usual, Danny was getting a bit tired of chicken, they all sat down and ate. The table was strangely quiet this evening and for a moment Danny wondered if the old timers had caught on, but looking at Walter and Gert he dismissed the idea. There was one other thing that was different about this meal; the old toads served wine with the meal. It was a pretty good wine at that. Danny sat back and enjoyed the treat. It was time. Danny looked at Willie to give him the signal; Willie was peering at Danny with a strange confused look on his face. Willie’s eyes rolled up into their sockets and he pitched forward into his plate. Danny reached for his gun and tried to stand up, when he did the room began to spin wildly and he lurched to the side and the floor rushed up to meet him. Danny groaned and moved his aching head; he kept his eyes tightly shut against the pain. It was cold and he could feel his body trembling. Danny wondered what had happened; slowly the plan came back to him and he began to remember the dinner. "Willie," he groaned. There was no answer, but Danny could sense the presence of someone else in this cold, cold room. Danny slowly opened his eyes to an intense and painfully white light. Slowly his eyes grew accustomed to the bright light and he could see Walter leaning against a high table several feet on one side of him. Walter was wearing a red smeared apron that hung down below his knees. He was wearing rubber gloves and in one hand he held a meat cleaver. Danny tried to move and found that he couldn’t. What’s wrong with me his mind inquired of no one in particular? "Walter, what the hell is go’n on," Danny rasped. Walter looked at Danny and smiled broadly; "Well, young feller, good ta see ya back with us. Hope your feel’n better." Walter turned his back to Danny raised his cleaver and swung down hard; Danny could hear the dull thunk as it bit into meat. Suddenly Danny’s vision became crystal clear and he was looking across the space that separated he and Walter into the wide staring eyes of Willie. Walter turned back from the table holding a severed hand and forearm; he walked out of Danny’s sight and Danny could hear the sound of paper tearing and being folded, then taped, and he could hear Walter humming. Danny looked back across the hellish space where he could see what was left of Willie’s body. It was the most horrible thing he had ever seen; the body looked as if it had been gutted while Willie was still alive, this from the shocked look of terror that was frozen on Willie’s face. The body was missing the arm and leg on one side. Danny tried to vomit but his stomach would not cooperate and he only produced a gagging sound. Walter came back into Danny’s view, he leaned down and peered closely at Danny, "Now don’t you fret none, young feller. This will all be over soon. I sure am sorry about this; I was have’n so much fun. You know how lonely it gets out here. Damn that woman." Walter shook his head sadly. He straightened up, rolled his head around his neck, reached his arms over his head, and yawned. "Damned that flea-bitten old bag, anyway. I was look’n forward ta have’n you and your pal around, at least another day or two, but the old lady got hungry. Damned woman is always ruin’n things. Just rush, rush, rush, never take’n time ta smell the roses. Never leave’n me ta have no fun." Walter turned back to Willie’s body; he looked over his shoulder at Danny and said, "Women, can’t live with’em, can’t leave their asses at the market." Walter raised his cleaver high and brought it down with incredible force; Danny heard the blade bite into flesh and then the tabletop. Willie’s head, frozen mask of terror and all, rolled away from the blade that was imbedded in the table top, rolled to the edge of the table and fell from Danny’s sight. As Willie’s head fell from sight, Danny’s mind screamed in horror; he asked God why and passed out.
Copyright © 2000 Albert Davis |