red moon over west virginia - 32. the house by the side of the road

by jeremy witherington

part 32 of 36

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marcia first saw eleanor’s new house when she was helping her move into it. eleanor had mentioned that the house was “in the middle of nowhere” but this had not really registered on marcia. they had been driving for eighteen minutes - almost fourteen miles - without seeing another house or building when eleanor finally pulled the u-haul vehicle into a driveway. this looks like it is in the middle of nowhere, said marcia, as soon they got out of the vehicle. isn’t that what i said? eleanor asked, with a smile. marcia looked around. she looked up and down the road they had driven up on. iis there anything in the other direction? what? if you keep driving on down the road is there a village or something? or a country store? or a gas station or a police station? yes, about another sixteen miles down there is the town of helford or halford or somethin or something? marcia asked. have you been there? not yet. i might check it out tomorrow. eleanor laughed again. come on, let’s get this stuff inside. that is what we are here for. marcia looked around again as eleanor unlocked the back of the vehicle. she thought the most noticeable thing about the house was how close to the road it was. it was perfectly visible to anybody driving down the road in either direction. if i was going to put a house all the way out here, thought marcia, i would at least have it off the road behind all these trees and halfway hidden from any lunatic or serial killer passing by. but she decided not to voice this thought to eleanor, at least not right away. it took about two hours for the two women to get eleanor’s possessions into the house and placed to eleanor’s satisfaction. eleanor had described the house as a dump but it looked all right to marcia - clean and with no holes in the walls or roof that she could see. the lights and plumbing worked. marcia was also a little surprised by how much junk eleanor had brought with her. she supposed it had sentimental value. eleanor had purchased the house to give herself solitude as she worked on her two memoirs. she was working on one memoir about addiction, and another one about emotional dependency. marcia and eleanor had met in a memoir writing workshop. marcia was writing a memoir about being stalked, by a person whose identity she had never learned. she had changed her own name and identity and moved to a new state to finally (?) escape the stalker. marcia had a job in an office - she told people it was an office although her employers referred to it as a campus - that she could not describe. eleanor was supported by her parents. actually by her father, who lived in europe with his third wife and whom eleanor saw about once a year. when they finished the unpacking they took a couple of starbucks coffee drinks out of the perfectly functioning refrigerator. the drinks had made the trip in a cooler and were quite cold. marcia would have preferred a beer or a real drink but of course knew that eleanor would not have such a thing. let’s take a walk around, eleanor suggested when they finished the coffee drinks. unless you have suddenly decided you have had enough country? oh, no no. marcia had indicated when she offered to help eleanor that she had “all day” and “wasn’t going anywhere”. despite’s eleanor’s offer, it would have been rude to ask her to drive her back to the city right away. next

red moon over west virginia - 31. the shipment

by jeremy witherington

part 31 of 36

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dick skinner woke up. he had fallen asleep to the sound of a rerun of wanted - dead or alive that larry was watching. now larry, who had shaken dick awake, was standing over him. larry waved his pager at dick. time to earn our keep, hoss. dick rubbed his eyes and sat up. he had his clothes and shoes on. he followed larry down the stairs and out of the garage. it was dark out. dick did not ask any questions. larry walked into the little patch of woods and dick followed. they quickly came to a little building hidden in the trees. dick had not noticed the building in his walks around the grounds. they entered the little buiding. it seemed to contain one thing - an elevator. larry pressed the single button beside the elevator and the door opened immediately. there were only two buttons - green up and red down - inside the cage. larry pressed the down button. a shipment came in, larry said when the elevator began its descent. dick did not ask, a shipment of what? three things came in, larry continued. i call them clones, though that is not exactly what they are. dick just nodded. the elevator seemed to be falling fast, but was taking a while. they are very expensive. very expensive. they have to be handled with care. you have to remember they are worth a lot more than us. whatever, you mean they are very fragile? no, i mean they can get ornery. downright mean and violent sometimes. i would have thought clones would be kind of cool and smooth, dick said. maybe frozen. but what do i know? larry laughed. you are about to find out. remember, handle with care, no matter how aggravated you get. the elevator finally stopped. the door began to slide open. * you have got to be kidding, trixie said, when tony had finished his description of the incredibly valuable thing dick skinner had told him about. it’s the chance of a lifetime, tony said. yes, the chance of my lifetime to finally quit your foolish schemes. i will say one thing, you made it easy, because all your other schemes rolled into one would not be half as crazy as this. trixie stood up. she looked at joey. i am leaving. are you coming with me? joey thought for a few seconds. no, i think i will stick with tony. i mean. we have come this far together… trixie was surprised, but not totally surprised. you don’t have to make a speech, she told joey. she went over to the door and opened it and left. she never saw tony or joey again. next

red moon over west virginia - 30. the pager

by jeremy witherington

part 30 of 36

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larry handed dick skinner a little black plastic object. keep this on your belt on on your wrist. and keep it on or under your pillow when you go to sleep. what is it? it’s a pager. larry explained to dick what a pager was, and that he should have it at hand 24 7. why can’t they just call me on my phone? this is quicker. and surer. it can’t be hacked. whatever. dick did not ask any more questions. there was a clip on the pager and he clipped it on his belt. * later, they were sitting in the little room they shared over the garage that held the truck larry had picked dick up in. and so far, no other vehicles that dick could see. but he continued to not ask any questions. outside, the afternoon was getting on. larry was watching matlock on the tv. matlock and perry mason and rockford files were his favorite shows. can i go for a walk? dick asked. a walk? you know, just walk around, get some fresh air, look at the trees and the birds. there are not a lot of birds out there. all right, i will just look at the trees, and the sky and the clouds. not a lot of clouds either. then i will look at the trees and the sky? can i go for a walk or not? it is not that big a deal. yeah, you can go. just don’t go very far. how far can i go? not very. just don’t go right up to the house. larry meant the house the willetts lived in. dick had still not seen them. i won’t, dick said. go ahead then. larry turned back to the screen he had paused matlock on, and resumed it. * larry was right. dick could not hear any birds, and there were no clouds in the sky. and no buildings that dick could see. just the willett’s house, and the garage. next

red moon over west virginia- 29. the mountain

by jeremy witherington

part 29 of 36

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dick skinner got off the bus. there was no bus station, just a gas station with one pump. an old woman sat in the window of a little shack staring at dick through thick glasses. there was a coca-cola sign on the shack so it probably sold other drinks and snacks and maybe newspapers. dick did not check the shack out or speak to the old woman. there was a truck parked parked about thirty yards down the road snd he walked over to it. you from the willetts? he asked the guy behind the wheel. yeah. get in. mimd if i buy a coke first? i’m in no hurry. go for it. dick went back and bought a coke. the old woman carried out the transaction without opening her mouth. dick got back in the truck, and it got onto the road and went back to the mountain he had seen coming in on the bus. the truck started up the mountain. the road was very smooth and there was nobody else on it. dick stuck to the script eddie had given him and did not talk. he got the feeling that the driver was amused by this. my name is larry, the driver said when they were about half way up the mountain. larry was an ordinary looking guy, like dick was himself. pleased to meet you, dick told him. i’m dick. likewise pleased to meet you, dick. i am guessing you were advised not to ask a lot of questions. that’s a good guess. you are probably curious about what you will be doing. i can wait until we do it. i like your attitude. i can see eddie knew what he was doing when he hired you. dick did not reply. you known eddie long? larry asked. a while. you are probably curious about the willetts. i guess i will meet them. or maybe not. well, you’ll see them, i don’t know if you will actually meet them, like they will be your pals. you don’t say so. you want to know what they are like? it’s up to you. there are just the two of them - tom and carla. tom wears a scarf and smokes a pipe. carla drinks a lot of mineral water and looks at her legs. sounds like a life. it suits them. larry laughed. it seems to suit them. but every so often, every so often, mind you, they like a little excitement. a lot of people are like that, dick said. well, that’s enough about them. here we are. they pulled up in front of a small wooden house. for the first time since he had left the city, dick was surprised. by how small the place was. were there bigger buildings around? there were trees, but they were not that tall, and he did not see anything behind them. next

red moon over west virginia - 28. the willetts

by jeremy witherington

part 28 of 36

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when dick skinner took the job with the willetts, he was told what to expect. well, he was not exactly told what to expect, but he was told what he had to do. just do what these people tell you to do, eddie goldberg told him, and don’t ask any questions about anything. do you think you can handle that? it’s what i have been doing all my life, dick said. you think? and don’t just ask no questions to the willetts themselves, but of anybody else working there or that you encounter. even if they just look like schmucks like yourself. because you never know. can i talk at all? sure, you can talk about the weather, or about the yankees, or even about the crap on tv, like putin or climate change or whatever. just don’t ask about what is going on there. suppose somebody asks me.something? like what do i think? tell them you don’t know nothing. which will be the truth, because you won’t. so, if somebody asks me something, it will be like being in jail, they are probably trying to trap me? eddie laughed. no, man, nobody will care enough about you to do that. then i don’t see what the problem is. so don’t ask any questions. i get it. i got it the first time. now that we got that settled, what am i actually going to do there? damned if i know. just be there, and do what they tell you. but i warn you, these people are different from you and me. how so? they are really rich. i worked for rich people before. not like these people. these are the real rich, not like you see on tv. they could put jeff bezos in their back pocket and tell bill gates to polish the silverware. very impressive. how do i get to this place? take a bus to wheeling west virginia. someone will be there to pick you up. do you have a ticket to wheeling west virginia or do i have to buy it myself? i got it right here. here you go. thank you, it’s a pleasure doing business with you. eddie got up and left. dick stayed and finished his coffee. he wondered if eddie had recorded the whole conversation. most likely he had. what was the big deal? there were no secrets any more. next

red moon over west virginia - 27. last chance

by jeremy witherington

part 27 of 36

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it was tony’s last chance, at least so far as trixie was concerned. if this one did not work out, trixie was through with tony and his schemes, and she was leaving his “crew” and if joey did not want to come with her and wanted to stick with tony, she was leaving him too. of course she did not come right out and say so, but she suspected that they both suspected what her intentions were. so be it. here was the deal. it was tony’s most elaborate scheme yet. like most of tony’s schemes, it involved stealing an incredibly rare and expensive something or other. and like all his schemes. the first question trixie had was “who is actually going to pay you for this thing, tony, and how much? you can’t put an an ad in the paper or online for it, or walk out in the street and yell, hey anybody want to buy the mona lisa or whatever?” and tony would just look at her with that smirky way he had since they were in the third grade, and say , i know that, sunshine. do you think i would go to all this trouble if i did not have a buyer lined up? and trixie would say, well, do you have a buyer lined up? and tony would say, what do you think? with his little mean eyes trying to look twinkly. and joey would say nothing and just look kind of sad, like, can’t we all just get along? trixie did not think tony ever had any “buyers” for any of his schemes, but just trusted to luck to come up with one. somehow the “buyers” always seemed to back out or disappear at the last minute, especially on the rare occasions when they actually got their hands, however briefly, on the mona lisa. (“mona lisa” was trixie’s term for whatever they were trying to grab.) whatever. this was it. the last go-round. tony knew a guy who knew a guy who worked in some mysterious job for these incredibly rich people who were so rich you never even heard about them. not peasants like the waltons or rothschilds or jeff bezos or elon musk who got their names in the media. tony always knew guys like this. joey and trixie never got to meet them. trixie had a name for these guys. “dick skinner”. the guy tony knew was “dick skinner”, just like the thing tony was going to steal was the “mona lisa”. these particular really rich people had a farm, or estate or whatever, in west virginia. and according to dick skinner, what they had on the farm was not pictures on the wall like the mona lisa, or statues like the venus de milo, or the only 16 mm copes of lost movies by andy warhol or orson welles. what they had was something way more valuable, but maybe a little harder to steal and put in a suitcase or the trunk of a car. so what, trixie asked, was it exactly? next

red moon over west virginia - 26. jerusalem

by jeremy witherington

part 26 of 36

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molotov hopped off the freight. he was in the switching yard. it was not as he had remembered it. the last time he had been there he had just crossed the yard and climbed a little hill and got up on to the highway where he could grab a ride from a wayfaring stranger to texarkana or tuscaloosa . but now the highway, and the horizon, were blocked off by an endless construction site of half completed tall buildings. molotov began walking through the construction site, trying to find his way back to the highway. the tall buildings cast long shadows across his path. he heard voices. the voices were coming from behind a random section of wall in what looked to be one of the buildings under construction. there was a large packing case beside the section of wall. molotov peeked from behind it. three men sat in enormous easy chairs arranged around a plain wooden table. a large unmarked bottle of what looked to be whiskey stood on the table. the three men had glasses of the whiskey looking liquid in their hands. they all wore short sleeved white shirts with string ties. one of them wore a stetson hat, another wore a sombrero, and the third had a red and white polka dotted rag tied around his head. they looked like hard men. they looked like godly men. they looked like hard godly men. i still say, the man in the stetson hat said, that we should see what ty wickerson has to say before we go ahead. we have the permits, the man in the sombrero said. and we are doing the good work. we are building the new jerusalem. at the words “new jerusalem”, molotov’s eyes opened a bit wide. he listened more intently. i agree with buck, the man with the rag around his said, it’s hard enough to do anything in this town, let alone build jerusalem, unless ty wickerson is on board. i assumed ty wickerson was on board, the second man said, otherwise we never would have got this far. so did i, said the third man. the first man picked up the bottle and poured more liquid into his glass. molotov felt he had heard enough. he crept silently away. next

red moon over west virginia - 25. the bible salesman

by jeremy witherington

part 25 of 36

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trixie decided not to go back out into the night in pursuit of a cup of coffee. she thanked the night clerk for his information and went back up to her room. she undressed and got back into bed. she hoped she would not have any more dreams. the place was quiet enough, she had to give it that. she clicked off the little lamp on the stand beside the bed. as she did she noticed that the stand had a single drawer in it, the kind of drawer that often held a gideon bible. a bible… that reminded her of the too friendly man who had tried to pick her up on the highway… he looked land sounded like a bible salesman… a bible salesman! of course… she had thought there was something familiar about the pickup truck man, but she had been too concerned about just getting away from him to really think about it… when trixie, joey, and tony had been in the fifth grade, a new boy had suddenly appeared in the class. his name was pete pickering. his father was a bible salesman and pete, when questioned by the teacher, ms whitley, stated without a great show of enthusiasm that he, too, would like to be a bible salesman when he grew up. young pete was one of those people, who, at any stage of their lives, seem about twice as old as they are in years. it would be a stretch to say that ten year old pete seemed twenty years old, but there was something ponderous, like an adult, about him. the other children did not take to pete. he just has this way of staring at things, donna gilliam, the class princess, declared. what is he looking at? is he just staring into space? he’s a big goop, donna’s lieutenant, shirley tompkins, agreed. tony did not consider pete worthy of being recruited into his circle. trixie, whose parents were socialists and militant atheists, thought being a bible salesman was indescribably weird. she mentioned pete to her mom when she went home that night. her mom was interested in the little details of trixie’s days, and trixie regularly gave her a few crumbs of information about them. you should ask him, trixie’s mom said, why people should have to buy the bible. yes, i will do that for sure, trixie replied, in the is-she-being-sarcastic way that annoyed her mom so much. after his first day, neither joey nor trixie gave pete much thought. tony kept an eye on pete, as he kept an eye on everybody. pete was an average student. he did not make any friends. next

red moon over west virginia - 24. the fight

by jeremy witherington

part 24 of 36

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there are three types of people in the world. people who are born believing that life is war, people who come to believe that life is war, and people who never believe that life is war. as the school year dragged on forever, tony grew frustrated by his inability to establish himself as alpha boy over barry. and he had to do it under the eagle eye of old ms wilcox-serafini, who was an enlightened new school educator with zero tolerance for open displays of testosterone. and usually under the soft eye of one of the rotating group of young teaching assistants desperate situations call for desperate measures, and one day, when there was no assistant on duty, and ms wicox-serafini was unaccountably absent for a few minutes, tony took advantage of the situation and went up to barry , who was peacefully perusing a picture book, with one of his female acolytes adoringly watching him turn the pages. tony called barry a name which no well bred gentleman, of any age, should ever use to another. barry stood up. tony knocked him down! the fight was on! joey, as tony’s first lieutenant rushed to the spot, as did a number of other curious children. trixie looked on impassively, and did not move from her spot. suddenly ms wilcox-serafini reappeared, and the conflict was over, with no physical harrm done on either side. it was the first fight in the kindergarten in seven years! the fallout was enormous. barry’s parents, who had thought they were doing the right thing by society by enrolling him in the public school, withdrew him immediately. they angrily demanded to know how the children could have been left unattended, even for a millisecond, allowing such an incident to occur. they contemplated a lawsuit, but were dissuaded by their politically astute lawyer. ms wilcox-serafini was severely reprimanded and the proverbial “note” was “placed her in her file”, but her years of unblemished service saved her from terminaton. tony was removed from school for the remainder of the school year, but allowed to return the next year, for first grade. joey continued to be tony’s faithful lieutenant, but never looked at him in quite the same way again. trixie filed the incident away in her brain. next

red moon over west vrginia - 23. escape

by jeremy witherington

part 23 of 36

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after molotov left lord curzon, he did not go back to his hotel. instead he went to a little diner a few blocks from the hotel, one he had stopped in at several times during his stay. there was a door in the back of the diner, beside the rest room. he had tried the door a couple of times on his previous visits, and found it unlocked. the same sleepy individual was behind the counter as on the previous occasions. just coffee, please. molotov said to the man. he placed a silver dollar on the counter and proceeded to the back of the diner. the door was unlocked, as before. he exited, closed the door carefully behind him, and went down an alley. the alley led to a street of gray buildings which mostly housed auto repair shops and auto parts wholesalers. the street led to the railroad station. a freight train was getting ready to leave the staton. its whistle blew. the railroad police had made a sweep of hoboes just two days previously, and molotov trusted that they would expect the vagabonds to stay away for a couple of more days at least. molotov jumped on to an open boxcar with surprising agility. he found the bocxar cleaner and more comfortable than he had ever found similar facilities in his own country. he rolled his gray overcoat into a pillow and placed it under his hat, careful to keep his pistol in a pocket of the coat that he could reach in one motion upon suddenly awakening, if need be. the train pulled out. he went to sleep. * back in lord curzon’s office, catherine continued looking out the window at the gray sky. she heard the whistle of the freight train. rain began to fall. behind her, lord curzon composed a carefully worded telegram. next

red moon over west virginia - 22. pixie's problem

by jeremy witherington

part 22 of 36

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when pixie got off the phone with gerald, she thought of calling chuck, her real fancy man. she usually called chuck whenever she had a problem, or wanted to talk to somebody about anything. but she decided to wait until she met with gerald. gerald’s call had slightly bewildered her. she had had a hard time understanding what he was saying. he seemed to be saying that his grandmother, or aunt or whatever she was, was … doing what exactly? “cutting him off.” but what did that mean? cutting what off from what? gerald was rich. he had all the money in the world. everybody in the world was either rich, like gerald and his grandmother, or poor, like real people like pixie and chuck. just like animals were either cats or dogs. a rich person could not become a poor person any more than a cat could become a dog. and a poor person, like trixie, could never become rich. well, maybe if they became a movie star or a pop star or something. maybe. but trixie was not going to be a movie star, and neither was chuck. but otherwise, no matter how much money a poor person managed to scam or scheme out of the rich bastards who ruled the world, it would never be enough, never be enough to make up to the poor person for all the grief they had to put up with from the day they were born. so what was stupid gerald whining and whimpering about like a little baby? pixie decided not to keep gerald waiting but just to go and see him and get it over with. she got up off her couch and did a hundred pushups and a hundred situps like she always did before she went out, to keep her girlish figure in fighting trim. then just as she put her hat and coat on, her phone vibrated. it was chuck. next

red moon over west virginia -- 21. the empty shop

by jeremy witherington

part 21 of 36

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don carlos hesitated in front of the coffee shop. had he in fact been there too often, too recently, and would he be in danger of becoming too familiar a face? he glanced into the window of the shop. it seemed empty of customers. and, there seemed to be a hint of rain in the air. he entered the shop. the little gray haired woman who seemed to be the proprietor and sole custodian of the establishment looked up at him with her habitual expression of polite expectation. don carlos immediately perecived that he was not the sole customer in the shop. a woman no longer young but still somewhat attractive and undeniably well groomed, sat alone at a small corner table sipping an espresso. she had avoided his notice by being seated directly beside the window. had he glanced even slightly to his left as he had looked in the window, he would have spotted her. in any case, he did not recognize her. may i help you, sir? the woman behind the counter asked him. if i recall, when you were last here you ordered a pink cake and an espresso. you have an excellent memory, madame, don carlos replied with a smile. this morning i will again have an espresso, but i will complement it with a white cake. don carlos took his espresso and white cake to the table next to the well groomed woman’s and sat down. a bleak morning, he observed to the woman. eva peron, for it was she, looked out the window. so it is. i had not really noticed. ah, you are absorbed in your own affairs, no doubt. no, i take a great interest in the doings of others, and pride myself on my knowledge of world affairs, particularly those involving the markets. i am a stranger here, don carlos smiled. are thre skies always so gray? and are the streets always so empty? perhaps the inhabitants stay up late. eva replied. and will come out and brighten the landscape with their smiling presence as the day gets on. i apologize if i bore you with my small talk. not at all, sir. i find interest in the smallest things. eva took a sip of her espresso. you are a philosopher. i prefer the humble description of observer. and what are you observing now, if i may ask? i observe that, threadbare as your suit is, it is of the finest cut and in the portugese style, perhaps from varino’s, the renowned tailor of lisbon. next

red moon over west virginia - 20. the sandwich

by jeremy witherington

part 20 of 36

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when pixie finished abusing gerald, she agreed to meet him at jenny’s truckstop. gerald made his way immediately to jenny’s, although he knew pixie would keep him waiting - if she showed up at all. gerald did not really care if she showed up or not, he just wanted to get out of his room, and out of the house. when gerald arrived at jenny’s he noticed sheriff jeanie bosworth’s squad car parked outside it. jeanie was inside at a table, talking to a woman gerald had never seen before. the woman looked liked a bum, the kind gerald thought should be run out of town. and she was not that young and had a big rear end that stretched her faded jeans - not gerald’s type at all. there were no other customers in the place. jenny was not behind the counter. a boy who looked about fifteen years old was. gerald suddenly realized he was hungry. so he ordered a sandwich along with his coffee, even though the food at jenny’s was not often up to his standards. he ordered a ham and cheese sandwich, with extra mustard , extra mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions, and cucumbers. he did not really want anything except the ham and cheese and a little mustard, but when he bought something he liked to feel he was getting his money’s worth. also, if the kid missed anything, it would give gerald a good excuse to give him a hard time. gerald sat down with his coffee to wait for his sandwich. he sat as far away from jeanie and her new friend as possible. the place was not that big, only seven tables, and four stools at the small counter. but he could still feel some feeble waves of jeanie’s contempt. gerald looked out at the night. but he could still see jeanie and her friend reflected in the glass. the woman looked like a bum, he thought again. the sheriff should be running such riff raff out of town, not buying them cups of coffee or whatever. she might have bought her a whole plate of ham and eggs! now the bum would move on and tell her friends what a friendly town it was and they should all check it out. he was paying his taxes for that? a new thought flashed through gerald’s head. in a few days, unless pixie could help him out somehow, he might be a bum himself! the thought, unlike any he had ever had before, made his head hurt. it was so unfair! it was enough to make him cry. he actually felt a tear coming on. but a man’s not supposed to cry, and he fought it back. the kid came over with his sandwich. here you are, sir, he said politely. the sandwich was exactly as gerald had requested. and the bread was not even stale, so he had nothing to complain about. gerald felt hatred for the young man welling up in him. so bleeping efficient! he would probably be president of the united states or some trillion dollar corporation when he, gerald, was lying in the street on skid row in san francisco or portland or someplace, with a broken leg from being hit a bus. would you like a refill of your coffee, sir? the kid asked. about fifteen years old, and he did not have a molecule of acne on his punk face. and he was going to be a billionaire. some people… gerald did not finish the thought, as another tear welled up in his eye. no thank you, gerald replied. he just wanted to be rid of the kid, and left alone with his grief. he bit into the sandwich. some of the extra mustard and extra mayonnaise mixed together and spurted out of the sandwich on to his chin. next

red moon over west virginia - 19. a friendly voice

by jeremy witherington

part 19 of 36

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pete pulled his truck up beside trixie. are you lost, miss? pete asked in his friendliest voice. pete had a very friendly voice, which he had worked on and perfected over many years. not at all. sir, trixie replied, waving her phone in the air so that pete could see it. she could hardly see pete’s face, but thought he looked vaguely familiar. but trixie was always thinking people looked familiar. she was paranoid, and had been studied by world class experts on paranoia. would you like a lift somewhere? pete asked her. no thank you, sir. i am staying at that motel - trixie pointed to the dark shadow of the motel with the phone - that motel down there and i just came out to get a little exercise. you looked like you were running away from something. ha ha! no, i was just doing a sprint. sprints are an essential part of my exercise routine. i see. well, in that case i wish you a good evening. a good morning actually as it is well after midnight. good morning to you too, sir, trixie replied in a no nonsense voice. pete drove off. trixie watched his headlights disappear around another bend in the highway, the bend she had chosen not to take. what was that all about? trixie wondered. she remembered the dead animal - had the man in the truck seen the dead animal? - and the voice! she decided to follow the advice of the world famous paranoia expert, who had studied her for a whole year, dr reich, and just forget about it and not look back. she continued walking briskly down the highway until she returned to the motel. somewhat to her surprise, there was a little light on at the front desk, and the little man who had signed her in was back at the desk. the little man - like all motel clerks, he was about five feet two inches tall and had a little mustache - watched trixie without expression as she approached him. excuse me, trixie said. yes? is there someplace around here where i can get a cup of coffee? maybe a donut or a sandwich or some pie? i mean that i could walk to. i walked up the road a way and could not find any. you must have walked right when you reached the road. yes, i did. that was where you made your mistake, the desk clerk replied solemnly. if you take a left, and then another left when you reach the crossroads, you will quickly come to jenny’s truckstop which is open twenty-four hours a day. and do they have good pie? the best in town. or so they tell me. i am not much of a pie person myself. thank you. should i go back out and try to find this place, trixie wondered. or should i just try to get some sleep? next

red moon over west virginia - 18. gerald and pixie

by jeremy witherington

part 18 of 36

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when gerald got back to his tiny room on the top floor (a room which had formerly been part of the servants quarters) the first thing he did was call pixie, the little floozie who was leading him inexorably to his doom. she did not pick up, so he just left a message, call me. he lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. the ceiling sloped downward so sharply that it had taken him a long time to master maneuvering around in the little room without constantly banging his head. gerald wondered if he should bother to text pixie. he knew from experience that she almost never read the texts - just noted that he had sent them - so whatever he had written he had to repeat when she called or texted him back. he decided not to text her but to wallow in his misery, and recount to himself, for the thousandth time, the circumstances which had brought him to his present unhappy situation. besides, what could pixie do for him? what would she do for him, if she knew or thought he was broke? so maybe he should not say anything to her about being cut off by aunt agrippina. maybe it was best if she did not know or suspect anything. on the other hand…. pixie was the only “streetwise” person he knew, the only one who might help him navigate his way at all, if he really did find himself “out on the street”… it was a conundrum. and it was something he had to think about too, and gerald did not like to have to think. how unfair it was all was! and it was all terence’s fault ! it was terence, his miserable older brother, and not himself, gerald, or any of the other harcourt siblings or cousins, who had brought the estate so low that aunt agrippina would even think of throwing any of them out in the street. but what did terence care? the “golden boy”, the “twinkly-eyed rascal” that everybody “loved”, was safe and warm in the harcourt family mausoleum, without a care in the world. gerald’s phone vibrated. it was pixie. you called me? yes. about what? um - i was just lonely. lonely? you called me because you were bleeping lonely? i’m sorry. sorry? i will tell you what you can do with your sorry. pixie launched into a stream of vicious vituperative abuse, of the kind that was expected of her, and that gerald loved so much. next

red moon over west virginia - 17. first day

by jeremy witherington

part 17 of 36

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joey’s whole life changed on his first day of school. he met tony, who would become his best friend, even though they did not really like each other all that much. and he first encountered trixie, whose fate would be so intertwined with his, although he did not suspect it at the time. what joey did know is that he was scared. all he could do was pretend not to be scared and hope for the best. tony took notice of joey. tony needed followers, if he was to establish himself as alpha boy of the kindergarten class. joey looked like a good bet. he was not bad looking, did not look too goopy, but would surely follow tony’s lead in all things, hopefully without being too obvious or a suckup about it. tony looked around for one or two more like joey. tony’s competition was barry. barry was the biggest and strongest boy in the class. barry’s dad was also the richest man in town, but this could be used against barry, if tony played his cards right. the teacher had two names, ms wilcox - somrthing. she was old, even older than joey’s mom. but where joey’s mom still looked almost like a movie star, old as she was, ms wilcox-something made joey’s flesh crawl. but now ms wilcox-something was clapping her hands together. this will only take a minute. people, she was imploring the children. she would always refer to her charges as “people”, never “children” or “boys and girls”. this will only take a minute, ms wilcox-somehimg repeated. we all need to know each other’s names. she pointed to a girl and smiled. and what is your name. trixie, trixie replied loudly, looking ms wilcox-something straight in the eyes. next

red moon over west virginia - 16. lucky night

by jeremy witherington

part 16 of 36

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this might be my lucky night, pete pickering thought, when he saw the woman running along the side of the road ahead of his truck. pete figured right away that she was running like she was running away from something. she was not dressed in the manner of a person running for exercise, or running in the classic style of someone doing so. but what was she running from? pete had not seen anything. pete was probably still not close enough to her that she could see the light from his headlights. she was still running at full speed, and a bit awkwardly. pete was more sure than ever that she was runnning from fear. he decided to speed up. and overtake her. he would ask her if she needed help. trixie saw the lights from the headlights before she heard the vehicle’s motor. there was no way she could get to the motel before the vehicle overtook her. maybe it is a police car, she thought hopefully. she stopped running. she took a deep breath, and started walking. the light did not increase much. had the driver slowed down, or maybe even stopped? as casually as she could, she took her phone out of her pocket. behind her, pete had indeed slowed down almost to a stop when he saw trixie stop. he did not know what to do. in all his driving around, seeking to pick people up, he had never faced this exact situation before. maybe the woman had just been running for exercise after all. and not running away from something. he drove toward her at twenty miles an hour and quickly overtook her. hello there, pete called out cheerfully. trixie appeared to be absorbed in texting on her phone and did not look up right away. she looked up as if surprised to see pete. next

red moon over west virginia - 15. nine minutes

by jeremy witherington

part 15 of 36

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trixie came to a bend in the highway. she checked her phone. she had been walking for nine minutes, it was starting to get a little chilly, and she was getting a bit sleepy. might as well start walking back to the motel. but she was this close to the bend in the road, she thought, i may as well look around it. because she really would like a cup of coffee and a donut or whatever. she walked around the bend. suddenly there was a lot more grass beside the road, and what looked like thick woods behind the grass. and she saw something. not a restaurant or cafe or 24 hour store but some kind of squished dead animal lying in the road. yuck! she did not want to get too close to it, so she turned right around, practically pirouetting. as she did she heard a voice behind her… help me, said the voice. it could not be the animal! it was totally flattened, and besides it was just an animal, a fox or a raccoon or something. help me, it said again, but it was more like she was hearing it in her brain than with her ears,… am i dreaming again, she wondered, like i was with the algebra test… but it was too cold to be a dream… wasn’t it? trixie forced herself to look behind her. after all she had been through with joey and tony and the doctor, was she going to lose her nerve now? she looked back. the smushed animal, or whatever it was, was gone. of course! it was some kind of plant. she took a deep breath and waited to hear the voice again. but she did not. she started to run. she had always been a pretty good runner, and she was in good shape. her coat was flapping around her slowing her down, and she held it closed against her body with one hand. she did not hear anything behind her. she could dimly make out the dark shape of the motel. it seemed miles away. next

red moon over west virginia - 14. the highway

by jeremy witherington

part 14 of 36

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trixie could not get back to sleep. the dream about the hotel and the algebra test lingered in her mind. she wondered if there was any place open where she could get a cup of coffee and maybe a donut or a piece of apple pie. she had not noticed any cafes or such when she had walked up the highway to the motel after being dropped off at the crossroads. she decided to go outside and take a look. even if she could not find any place open, the walk would be good exercise and might tire her out enough to help her get back to sleep when she got back. there was nobody at the desk when she went downstairs. the only light was a red light, not blinking, on the phone on the desk. trixie went outside. the highway had a super deserted look. there was only one car in the parking lot - probably the desk clerk's. she walked down to the highway. to the left was the road back to the airport and she could not remember seeing any cafeterias or franchise places on it, so she started walking to the right. the road stretched straight before her. she decided to walk to the first bend - or for ten minutes, whichever came first - look around the bend, and if she did not see anything, start back. she checked the time on her phone and started walking. next

red moon over west virginia - 13. gerald

by jeremy witherington

part 13 of 36

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gerald harcourt, with his usual smirk on his face, entered the drawing room. aunt agrippina was seated in her red armchair beside the fireplace. the tea table in front of her was empty, and none of her usual confidants were in attendance, nor were there any servants in the room. you wished to see me, aunt? gerald drawled. i did, gerald. this won’t take long. may i sit down? if you like. but as i say it won’t take long. gerald seated himself languidly on a settee. then let’s have it. as i am sure you know, the financial situation in the world is deteriorating. global markets collapsing and all that. surely that is the time to invest, is it not?, gerald interposed. these things always blow over, and those who have stood firm reap the reward of their fortitude. please don’t interrupt. be that as it may, i have resolved to cut back on expenses by ridding myself of my most blatant and worthless parasites, beginning with yourself. gerald coughed discreetly. i see. does that mean i am to be left out of your will? you were never in my will. i mean i am no longer supporting you, as of now. you have twenty-four hours to pack up and go. oh dear, that’s a bit harsh. am i allowed to keep my allowance? you can certainly keep whatever you have left of the last installment of your allowance. although i have always understood you were not the saving sort. i consider saving to be beneath a gentleman. tell me, are you prepared to settle any outstanding debts i may have? aunt agrippina laughed. of course not. well then, am i to be fed until my twenty-four hours are up? why not? consider it the condemned man’s last meal. gerald stood up. he hesitated. and might - might i take something with me when i go - some sandwiches or cream tarts or such?. i will leave that weighty matter to the discretion of cook. but gerald - please do not think you can get away with filching any jewelry or other valuables. the servants will be on their guard, and dumphrey will be instructed to search you thoroughly when you depart. i understand. gerald bowed to aunt agrippina and left. the interview had not been completely unexpected, and he thought he had handled himself rather well. next

red moon over west virginia - 12. algebra test

by jeremy witherington

part 12 of 36

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as soon as trixie checked into her room on the forty-first floor of the grand hotel, she realized she had forgotten to study for her algebra test, which she would have to take on tuesday… four days away… and she had forgotten to pack the algebra book. not that it would have made any difference, she had not opened the algebra book all year. she did not really even know what algebra was. it was hopeless. she would be exposed as a fraud, and her life would be over. she decided to go downstairs, and wander aimlessly through the streets of the great city until it was time to find someplace to eat. but when she got down to the lobby she found it in a state of great disrepair and confusion, as if it were suddenly being completely remodeled. she could not even find the front desk, to ask what was going on. she decided not to wander through the streets of the great city, but to just go back up to her room and order a grilled cheese sandwich from room service before things got any crazier. she got back on an elevator. it was a wide elevator, like a freight elevator. there was no freight on it, or anything else or anybody else. she saw that it only went up to the fortieth floor, but her room was on the forty-first. well, it should not be too hard to get to the forty-first floor from the fortieth. she pressed the button for the fortieth floor. the elevator started moving sideways! the indicator above the door showed letters - a, b, c, d… instead of numbers. she began pressing the lettered buttons. nothing happened… the elevator kept moving sideways.. like the shuttle in an airport … she tried a, b, c. d… trixie pressed the letter e, really hard. it took forever, but the elevator - or subway or whatever it was - finally stopped, and the door opened. she jumped out. she was in what looked like a big department store, with ceilings as high as a train station. she could see a street outside through big windows, but nothing looked familiar. she decided to go into the interior of the department store, where maybe she could find her way back to the hotel. everything for sale in the store - mostly coats that looked like they were for people eight feet tall, was behind glass, and looked really expensive, though there were no price tags. the carpet in the corridor was green, as as soft as grass. trixie kept walking down the green corridor, without seeing another person. maybe she should have gone outside into the street. she could have asked somebody for directions. finally she saw somebody approaching. it looked like mister davis. mister davis! suddenly it hit her. she was not in school any more. she did not have to take an algebra test on tuesday… it was all - a dream. she woke up. she looked over and joey was not beside her. of course he wasn’t. it all came back to her. she was in the motel room outside wheeling west virginia, and joey was long gone. there was a little clock on a table beside the bed, and the red illuminated numbers said 2:44. it was all cool. she did not have to take an algebra test, now or ever. and joey was gone. and so was tony. next

red moon over west virginia - 11. socks and ties

by jeremy witherington

part 11 of 36

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after moe had wandered aimlessly down the street for a while, the wind picked up a bit and he decided to turn around. he passed juan the con’s bodega on the way back, and considered going inside and buying a package of beef jerky, but remembered that he still had a couple of dark chocolate bars in his room, and decided to just continue on home and eat those instead. when he got back to his room he ate one of the dark chocolate bars and then spent the rest of the night just doing nothing much, but asking himself, as he often did, what was going on. he fell asleep just before dawn. moe had a dream. unlike his life, which tended to be unfocussed, moe’s dreams were always classically structured. in moe’s dream, he was not a bum on welfare who hung around the pool hall, but mr morley, a suave salesperson at the grand department store in the great metropolis. he was in charge of men’s socks and ties, and took his duties seriously and carried them out conscientiously. mr morley had an eye for a pretty face and a shapely ankle, and a fair amount of these passed through men’s socks and ties, purchasing items for their sweethearts and husbands. in the dream, moe/mr morley was surveying his kingdom from behind his little podium, when a modestly dressed but bright eyed young woman approached him. she did not look more than sixteen or seventeen years old. can you hep me, sir? the maiden asked. it is what i am here for, miss. the request i am making may be an unusual one for you, the young woman began hesitantly. mr morley smiled. just tell me what it is, and i will be the judge of that. i was here in the store yesterday and i lost my algebra textbook. i was wondering if you had happened to come across it. an algebra textbook? mr morley gave the young woman an even friendlier and more debonair smile than before. i am sure i would have noticed such a thing if it happened to be on the floor. and in any case, have you applied to our excellently efficient lost and found department, located on the fourth floor of the south wing? indeed i did, sir, but they were unable to assist me. do you mind if i look around in this department? suit yourself, miss, so long as you do not knock any of the displays over. and perhaps while you look you might find find a nice tie or pair of socks that you could purchase for your father or brother or other man in your life. oh thank you, sir. and with that the maid left mr morley and disappeared behind a display of brightly colored cravats. suddenly a terrible presentiment assailed moe/mr morley. he hastily reached into his pocket! but his wallet was safely there, and he quickly opened it and saw that the two dollar bill he had placed there to purchase his lunch in the emporium cafeteria was also safe. but when he put the wallet back in his pocket, he felt it brush against something else. what could it be? it was a plain white envelope. and inside the envelope was a neatly folded sheet of white psper with something scribbled on it in no careful manner - moe woke up. how long had he been asleep? outside it was day, but a gray day, and rain pattered against the window… next