o0o0o0o0o0TMS0o0o0o0o0o
Chapter 4
The ring of a bell tickled the air as Jude pushed forward on the heavy glass doors of the convenience store, Mark's Mart.
"Freezing," she noted how cold it was in here compared to the shivering cold outside, she dropped her wet bags that slid down her drenched legs, creaking her way on the termite infested wooden floorboards, and began wringing her soaked hair letting it drip where she stood.
It had taken an hour to get here.
An hour walking in the rain, and she had forgot to buy a thermo jacket at the airport, if she hadn't thought it before... she really felt stupid now.
Somewhere up there, Jude could pretend her ancestors responding in smug satisfaction, Welcome back to La Push.
Jude regretted not taking Seth up on his offer to illegally drive her here.
Three miles.
Three miles was a considerable trek from Jude's old home, especially when she forgot the way, and how long it actually took to get here. Nevertheless, Jude still made it here, Mark's Mart, it was one of the older convenience stores, located on one of the main roads leading into La Push, near it's quaint downtown which laid nestled in the overwhelming expanse of evergreen cedar, hemlock and older than dirt pine. Still, it had survived the changing years, the one and only Tribe run store this side of the Resort-less part of La Push.
The convenience store reminded Jude of those old cowboy movies.
The ones Harry always liked to watch when they were kids, an old saloon built for bar fights, selling liquor from ox driven wagons, and on the side cuisined to gold rush miners whom would eat a balanced diet of beef jerky or whatever meal the bartender was willing to part with.
On this rainy day, Jude had little time to look up as rain pelted her face, not taking her time as when she had first had appraised it as a small child. The long white oak along the front and sides of the building looked the same from afar, if not a bit more yellow, a series of rectangular borders along the entrance still had the same cowboy flair, an old decorative type of art perhaps mixing with fading Quileute signs representing the seal, the bear, the wolf, the hawk, and a barely hanging salmon.
The same rustic looking signs Jude had pointed out to Conner, translating the Quileute names for him when they had first come down to First Beach. She could envision herself with him, their teenage selves, wisecrack fools unafraid of their future together, they had spontaneously stopped at this place for some beers they weren't supposed to be drinking, and gave hell to Mr. Marks when he refused to give them anything.
The memory felt sour now, "Hello! Is anyone here," Jude looked to the front counter, where the employee or owner would stand, and she found it empty.
She bit her worried lip, "Is anyone here," she repeated, walking up to counter, inspecting the a pop up portion of where the owner would flip to get to the other side the cut off section held cigarettes and alcohol. The length of the counter had chips from how many times it was lifted by the hands that kept this ancient place running, "Hello! I am here for the job!"
She got no answer.
"Perfect," Jude sighed loudly, leaning tiredly against the counter.
She looked back through the front wall of the convince store, it was made all window, showing off the deck under the awning, plentiful with wooden carved benches, all empty right now, and near the entrance stood a larger than life wood carving of a Timber wolf
"Wow, that's beautiful," Jude let herself walk up to the front glass doors for a better look. The wolf's wooden belt was a near perfect representation of actual fur standing on it's end, it's inanimate eyes looked alert, prowling, and watching all those that dared to enter into the convenience store, the same entrance Jude had come in moments before.
"Well hello there," how could she have missed him, "you are beautiful," Jude heard herself say to the wolf, "you weren't there before."
A deep gravely voice answered her, "Because it wasn't there before," a wheelchair rolled down one of the aisles, it stopped right in front of Jude, a heavyset man, with dark russet skin, and a face lined with deep-set wrinkles underneath a black feathered cowboy hat, "my son was the one that put it there last year."
"Billy Black," it was him, "I mean Mr. Black, good to see you again, it's been a while," they shook hands, and Jude could not really say anything else, if it was awkward trying to apologize to Seth earlier today, it would be near impossible to explain it to the Chief of their Tribe.
"It has been a while," he repeated in a more serene manner, "three years right?"
"Yeah," Jude said lamely, it had been three years since she had seen him, and he had not been wheelchair bound then, and if he had, she had never remembered him so. The last time he had stood proud during the bonfires, arms crossed over his heavy-chested body, a born to be leader amongst the Elders, a man with the answers, Jude continued for them both, "so how are things going around here? La Push and the families are okay?"
"They are going," he said slowly, "as well as can be expected for these times," he continued owning his words as if he had chosen them carefully, thankfully Billy didn't venture into those dark waters that Jude had created with her family, "what can I do for you Jude?"
"You remember me?" Of course, he remembered her name, she had never been the shy one of the Clearwater clan, she coughed, and answered his question appropriately, "I was waiting for the owner, there was this job online," she had the paper in her hand, it was more wet than dry, "and I was hoping that the job was still available to work here."
He answered her swiftly, "It is."
Jude folded her paper, ready, "Could I get an interview with him?"
Billy Black's eyes lighted up, but returned to their calm indifference, "Can you?"
Two words.
Two simple words, and yet Jude felt trapped now, trapped by his knowing gaze, and what that must have meant coming from him, but she refused to back down, not after the drenched to the bone expedition to get here, "can I speak to the owner Billy?"
"You can," he raised one of his eyebrows, rolling a fraction of an inch forward and back, and that is when it dawned on her.
Jude felt like a complete idiot, "you own this place," she pinched her nose, muttering in Quileute, "don't you? I thought old Quil was renting it out to Mark?"
Billy's face fell, "Mark passed away a month ago, we had his funeral a few weeks ago," and that just made Jude look even more heartless, the self-made outsider of their tribe, because Old Mark Creek was the man of legend in their tribe. At a hundred and two and he was still kicking kids out of his shop, and here Jude was, not bothering to call the already dead owner because she was afraid they would refuse her over the phone, and that would tempt her just to call it quits and go back on the first plane to New Mexico.
This was just perfect, just when she was trying to start fresh.
Jude bit back her selfish disappointment, "I am sorry Billy."
He shrugged, "he was just waiting to die. The bastard always got what he wanted," he said it playfully, rolling to the back of the store, and motioning for her to follow, "no good crying over him now."
Jude followed Billy Black to the back that opened into a small kitchen, and they were not alone, Old Quil, a white-haired and far more ancient Elder, whom sat before a game of still playing cards, took out the cigar burning between his lips and faster than lightning dumped it in water when she came in, "oh dammit," he grumbled in a voice that could only be so deep from smoking every day in his life, "I thought you were Sue."
"This is Judith," Billy Black corrected him, amused for some reason, "she is here for the job application."
He got a look of surprise from Old Quil whom continued to light up another cigar in his brittle fingers, competently unashamed, "Job application? What job application-"
Billy coughed into his hand, shaking his head, and Jude narrowed her eyes at them both.
Something was happening here.
Recognition flashed in both Elder's faces, "Oh those papers, I forgot about those," Old Quil said, winking through his too large glasses at Billy, as if Jude wasn't in the room, and slowly stood to his bulbous booted feet, cracking his rheumatoid fingers against the table as he did, "let me take you to the papers, come with me," he said ominously, and Jude followed after him, up the stairs to the second floor, rolling her eyes as he slowly did so, taking his sweet time.
When they finally reached the second floor of the Mark's Mart, there was four doors along the two walled hallway. This must have been the residential portion of the store, somehow this section felt more intimate to Jude. Like she shouldn't be up here.
Old Quil still went at his drawn out pace to the last door, "this was Marks room," he opened the door, and it gave a long and ominous creak.
If Jude felt wrong before, it screamed at her now, to leave, get out, don't come near, "we left it the same for him, just like he liked it," he said quietly, and it did look the same, as if Old Marks was going to walk in here, and tell her to get out before he found something unpleasant for her to do.
"Those papers," Old Quil pointed at a pile on the untouched desk, "those must be it."
They just stood there.
Looking at the papers.
Both refusing to go in.
And, the old man gave her a long look, "What are you waiting for?"
"Old Quil," suddenly she was a small girl, "I thought you were going to get them?"
"Well I'm not, so if you want the job," he made a small motion with his head, "go get them girl," he must have seen the look on Jude's face, "or if you don't?"
"Yes, I can do it," Jude bared her fears down, ignoring Old Quil's superstitions and unwillingness to enter the room, and went deep enough inside to physically disturb the peace of the one-bed room.
When she went in papers and old yellowed photo clippings ruffled against the walls, in their places stapled, perhaps from before she was even born. A man's wardrobe looked half-destroyed and all the clothes had ended up on the bed, a single pair of white underwear hanging on the pillow, but the room was not completely repulsing, the lone window brought in light and showed off the gorgeous green canopy behind the convenience store, and it made her want to open it, just for a moment, and let in the cold clean air sweep away the musk of unused space.
"I got it," Jude said picking up the application papers so they could return downstairs, and leave the ghost of Old Marks well enough alone.
When they returned, a woman was dropping off take-out, "I know he is smoking Billy, I can smell it in the room, you better tell my Dad to stop that before it kills him, I swear me and Sue get on him and on him, but he only ever listens to you-"
"I can't take it from him Joy," Billy Black pleaded halfheartedly, "what else is he going to live for?"
"For my Quil, for his grandson," she bit back, "he hasn't even finished high-school and he is doing this non-stop shit."
"He is not dead Joy," Billy defended his friend.
That made the very man grunt, "And I am not deaf either, so be careful what you say while I am in the room," Old Quil said right in front of Jude, unafraid of the woman's badgering for him to stop smoking, and it was none other than Joy Ateara, whom turned around to frown in her father-in-law's direction, in their direction, and that is when she instantly dropped any expression whatsoever.
She gasped, "Is that you Jude?"
Jude dared to believe there was excitement in her voice, "hello Aunt Joy," she repeated the same thing she had called her as a small child.
She was attacked, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
Jude felt her Aunt launch her body into her arms, and they embraced, strongly, jumping in place, they both almost got knocked over in their reunion, not once, but twice, "I can't believe it, it really is you, thank God, thank God!"
"Stop screaming," Old Quil complained, "you're hurting my ears," he grumbled in Quileute about crazy woman, while Billy grinned, putting on his reading glasses as he looked over the papers Jude had brought down.
Aunt Joy questioned Jude, "What are you doing here?"
Before she could speak, someone else answered, "She is getting a job here," it was Old Quil, slapping his lips, grumpy as a skunk for not being able to smoke in Aunt Joy's presence, "I am letting her stay here and paying her to watch over the store while I can relax like I usually do," he muttered to himself, "like I was trying to do."
"Really," both Aunt Joy and Jude said at the same time, both of them unable to keep the grins off.
"Really," Billy said head bobbing to the empty seat, "take a seat Jude, I have a few papers you have to sign."
"Congratulations honey, this is great news," Aunt Joy said, and Judith did as she was told, signing where Billy told her to sign, listening to Old Quil's preferences on how to run the place, what he expected of her, and which customers to watch out for. During the grueling speech of keeping the high school ruffians away from the counter altogether, probably the same speech Old Marks had once given to his employees, Jude felt grateful, truly grateful, because for once things were working in her favor.
o0o0o0o0o0TMS0o0o0o0o0o
"We are going to have move his things, I'm sorry, but come on, are you serious? You guys just left it like this," Aunt Joy used Old Mark's back scratcher to pick up the used underwear and proceeded to fling it into the pile of clothes in the corner, trash, beer bottles, and random things were there too, "some of these things have to go, we can leave it for his family downstairs," Aunt Joy was a force to be reckoned with, and she devastated Old Marks room, Jude her willing accomplice as they both stripped the bed, put new sheets, and threw out the things no one would ever want in a million years.
"He had no family," Old Quil said with a guilty expression, "don't touch that."
She was patronizing him now, "Dad it's dirty. You can leave it filthy like this."
"This is bad luck," Old Quil was too stubborn to listen, "I should have given you another room," he repeated for the tenth time outside the door, still refusing to come to pass the door's threshold, "you should not touch dead men's things Joy."
Aunt Joy had her own opinion, "Are you going to stand there and complain or are you going to help us?"
Old Quil grumbled off, going back to sit with Billy in the kitchen downstairs.
When they are alone, Aunt Joy sighed loudly, "men, I swear Jude, they get worse with age."
"I bet they say the same thing about us," Jude said conversationally.
"I know Dad does," she said of Old Quil.
"I bet Billy would have helped us, if we asked him," Judith says before she knows how it would sound, of how Billy Black could never get up the stairs to the second floor, only if someone helped him up, but she had no idea if his son was strong enough to help his rather large father in that way, "I didn't mean it like that-"
"No, you're right, he would have helped us," Aunt Joy didn't take it in a bad way, Jude's words encouraged her, "Billy really is the best, isn't he, he watches over my Dad, all the boys, all the time, we really owe him, but oh, this looks so much better," she grinned widely now, looking down at the work they had accomplished, moving Old Mark's clothes to the corner of the room had truly been a struggle, but now, with the bed remade with fresh sheets, a newly bought pillow from downstairs, it was almost perfect, unless... the mattress.
Aunt Joy caught Jude testing it, "Go on, get in, let's see if you fall through," she teased.
Jude did, it held her up surprising them both, and Jude, still sitting, jumped a bit on it, the creaky sound wasn't too bad, she made herself say it, "I can get used to this."
Aunt Joy agreed wholeheartedly, "Sure you can, oops," she looked at her watch, "I am late for work, you can do the rest, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Sure," Jude leaned up on the bed, watching her rush out, "sure, thanks Aunt Joy!"
"No problem, no problem, bye honey," she took her purse and was gone in a flash, leaving her alone in Old Marks room, her new room, it was going to take some time to get used to that with how foreign this still felt. The idea that she had actually found a place, and on her first try. It felt like an incredible victory.
A thought came to Jude, and she crossed the room, and opened the window, wide, wider until it slapped and vibrated for a second against the outside of the building, "ah," she breathed in the air, and let it steal into the room driving the scent of whatever had lingered here before. It was fresh, new, perfect.
The bathroom door slammed hard behind Jude, making her squeal.
"What's going on up there!"
"Nothing," Jude called back, unsure if there really was something going on.
Old Marks?
Was it his ghost?
Jude held tight to the amulet that hung around her neck, reassuring herself it was there.
Honestly, she had never liked the way Old Quil made it seem like the devil still resided in here, the memory of his suspicious eyes never left her mind as she walked up to the bathroom door, and just as quickly as she could she opened the bathroom door, her instincts screamed at her to step step back, and so she did.
There was no one in there.
Jude walked in and scrunched her nose, "oh man," it stinked, she lifted the toilet seat, and yup, she slammed it shut.
Men did become worse with age.
With renewed confidence that there couldn't really be anything else as horrible as that, Jude opened the bathroom curtain, and a family of water bugs flew at her, slapping and flapping into her thighs.
Jude screamed.
