Ladies and... gentlewomen? Anyway.... HERE WE GO AGAIN. It's a new story. I've been developing this for about 2 months. It's set in the same town as my last novel, Mud Creek. But in in 1994. The characters in this story are 20 something geeks, gamers, outcasts, wannabe satanic warlocks, and witches. It will be somewhat darker and grittier then Mud Creek. As usual consider this a preview, warts and all. I'm using a rotating 3rd person POV.
I'm currently halfway finished with my third pass on "Mud Creek" I've learned so much about writing in the last few months as I edited that monstrosity. Every single chapter has changed, one completely new chapter was wedged in, and the story is way better. I'm hoping to have this release before July is over if you've wondering how it turned out between Sarah and Lucy.
Thanks for following along. I love your comments and feel free to offer constructive criticism too.
Love
-Sarah Matilda
Chapter 1 The Party
Garrett
"Come see yesterday, today. What a crock of shit," Garrett said as he shifted his old Jeep into 1st gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
"Whoa dude, isn't that Melissa's car?" Ashton said from the passenger seat.
"Fuck yeah, look away." Both Garrett and Ashton turned their heads but not before they saw the girl and her friends all raise their middle fingers. The back window came down and they heard, "Asshole" screamed as they accelerated away.
Ashton was giggling, "Ahhh G, you sure got a way with the ladies."
Garrett took off his cap and scratched his dark red hair. "It's been like, three weeks. It's time for her to move on."
The Jeep eased to a stop at a light and Ashton looked back at the mural. "You think it's going to work?"
"What?" Garrett asked.
"This whole re-branding thing, antique capital of the Midwest, gateway to the Shawnee National Forest, yesterday today?"
Garrett blurted out a laugh, "Mud Creek?"
Ashton nodded as the Jeep pulled out past Main Street. Garrett took in the shiny new benches, Kelly green street lights, planter boxes filled with petunias, and freshly renovated storefronts.
"No chance. It's a pipe dream, man. It's like that lame-ass restaurant we just left. It's like they think they can throw a fresh coat of paint on the place, buy a jukebox filled with 50s shit, and make the waitresses all wear poodle skirts, but we all know that it's just John's Cafe."
Ashton didn't respond but turned his attention towards the newly renovated river walk. Garrett frowned at his longtime friend looking out the window. New lighting and sidewalks had brought out walkers, families riding bikes, and the occasional rollerblader.
Garrett sighed. "I'm sorry, man, but someone has to be the voice of reason around here. This town exists for two reasons, railroads and coal mines. They pulled the rails out ten years ago, and I hate to say it but the mines are dying."
He saw Ashton grimace at the word mine. "Sorry, man," he said.
"What?" Ashton asked.
"Your dad."
"It's cool. So we're really going to this guy's party?"
"Yeah, Rick's a trip. Did you hear what he did?" Garrett asked.
Ashton shook his head no.
"OK, so you know Cindy Gibbons? No, of course you don't. Well, she's hot. He asked her out the other day. She's like, please don't talk to me, I'm dating someone."
Garrett shifted into 3rd and carved a corner, making his way to East Mud Creek. He looked over at Ashton with a smile.
"What do you mean of course not?" Ashton asked.
"Dude, don't get your panties in a wad, relax. I'm just saying you're not the most social person."
Ashton smiled. "I'm aloof, and cool. I like to keep a veil of mystery around me."
Garrett rolled his eyes. "You ain't helping your case. OK, so anyway, Rick created a spell at Subway. He's cursed her relationship. He invoked Beelzebub or something. It's fucking hilarious."
Ashton clapped his hands together. "That explains it."
"Explains what."
Ashton shook his head. "Why we are going. You want to check out his lair. Read his spell books, study his grimoires. You want to play wizard."
Garrett adjusted the radio. "Oh, fuck you, man. I don't believe in that shit."
Ashton laughed. "Maybe you don't, but you dragged me over to Waldenbooks to buy a copy of the Satanic Bible last month. You're like Agent Mulder. You want to believe."
Garrett didn't answer. He passed through a run-down trailer park, took a left turn way too fast, and pulled to a stop in front of a run-down rental house surrounded by cars.
Garrett got out of the Jeep. "Looks like the party is jumping." He adjusted his Metallica cap and studied his best friend.
Ashton was a couple inches shorter than him, and a few inches wider — a striking contrast next to Garrett, who was tall and lanky. Ashton wore black jeans and a black T-shirt, and his thick black bowl cut made him look like some kind of beatnik wannabe. Garrett and Ashton had been friends since 7th grade, when Garrett invited him to walk a few blocks during lunch to the comic shop with his friends. Ashton became his best friend freshman year when he became their Dungeon Master.
"Alright, man, let's be cool."
"Always, G," Ashton said and followed Garrett to the door.
Garrett had been to Rick's house one other time. He'd bought some Magic cards from him and gone to his house to pick them up. To say the place was a dump was an understatement. Reggae music played on the boombox. Their eyes burned from smoke and blacklight.
"Yo, G-Man, word up," Rick said as he greeted them in the front room. He took a swig of the Keystone Light in his hand. Rick turned his thick dark glasses towards Ashton. "And you must be Ashton. Good to meet you, bud."
Garrett smiled at his friend's discomfort. Rick's long unkempt hair looked like it hadn't been washed this decade. He smelled strongly of skunk weed. His Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt had several cigarette burns.
"Glad you could make it, got beer in the kitchen. Drop a buck or two in the box if you can," Rick said and wandered off to talk to a girl in a Grateful Dead tank top smoking a cigarette.
"Wow, this guy is living the dream," Garrett said.
"Umm, yeah, he's like 30 and works at Subway. He invites 20-year-olds to come hang out with him, not to mention he's a spell caster," Ashton said.
Garrett looked at him for a second and then pointed at a circle of people in the living room. "Since you don't drink, why don't you play hacky sack with those hippies. I'm getting a beer."
Ashton saluted him and marched over to the game.
Garrett made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a barely cool beer from the box on the table. Through the kitchen window he saw two girls outside smoking. The taller one was wearing a sleeveless floral hippie dress and a light shawl. She had vintage macrame necklaces and long, wild, dirty-blonde hair. The other girl was short, wearing basic shorts and a T-shirt. The short one looked familiar, but he was sure he'd never seen the tall girl before.
He held off on cracking open his can to eavesdrop through the window.
The tall one took her cigarette out and waved it around. "You really thought we might find someone here?"
The smaller girl frowned. "Not really, but this is the only place I could think of."
The taller one smiled and took a drag. "No, that's fine. We're in Mud Creek, what should I expect?" She had a distinct southern accent.
Garrett put on his smoothest smile and exited the house, cracking open the beer as he went. "Hey," he said with a nod. "Can I bum a smoke?"
The shorter girl frowned. "Hey Garrett, what do you want?"
"Oh, Jess, how's it going?" Garrett said, remembering her name.
"It sucked, and then you showed up. Now it's worse," Jess said.
"Hi, I'm Marie," the tall girl said and offered him a cigarette. "So you two know each other?"
Jess frowned. "I'm his ex-girlfriend's cousin."
Garrett used her lighter and took a drag, then coughed. "Umm, yeah… I'm sorry about that. So are you friends with Rick?"
Jess and Marie looked at each other, then Jess answered carefully, "No… not really. I know Zane, who's friends with Rick. He told me about the party so I came over."
Garrett noticed that Jess was wearing a much newer macrame necklace, very similar to Marie's. They both had a green crystal captured in thick knots. "Those are cool necklaces."
Marie smiled. "I make them."
Garrett returned the smile. "Wow, you're really talented."
Marie looked away. "Actually, my grandma was really talented. She taught me how to make them."
Garrett continued. "Could you make one for me?"
Marie shook her head. "No. Actually, we were just about to leave."
"Alrighty, sorry. I would pay for it. It looks really cool," Garrett said.
Marie started towards the door and turned back around. "You couldn't afford one."
About that time there was a crash, followed by some shouting and commotion inside. Garrett snuffed out his cigarette and followed the girls through the kitchen back to the living room. The crowd was eyeballing Ashton. Beside him the flimsy dining table was turned upside down and a package of Oreos was spread out on the floor.
Zane saw Jess and Marie enter. "That doofus just knocked over the table playing hacky sack."
Ashton had a nervous grin. "I'm sorry, guys, I'll clean it up," he said and started picking up the cookies.
Garrett noticed the way Ashton caught Marie's eyes. He made a mental note to give him a hard time about it later.
"Smooth move, Ash," Garrett said, then helped him gather up the cookies.
Rick came in with a big smile. "Relax, guys, nobody spilled their beer, right? It's all cool." He smiled real big. "I just rolled up a fattie. Who's in for some ganj?"
The flipped table was quickly forgotten, and soon the 14 people in the house settled into a loose circle on the floor.
Voices got more twisted and loose; people were acting high before they even smoked. When the joint got to Garrett, he took a quick puff and then handed it to Ashton. Ashton quickly moved it to the next person, who happened to be Marie. She took a long drag and moved it to Jess.
"Hey, you guys want to do something cool?" Rick asked. Nods and mumbles went around the circle.
Rick got up and, like a little troll, scampered over to a chest against the wall. He returned with a tweed sport coat. His stoned congregation all scratched their heads.
Rick's friend Jake laughed and said, "Are we going to, like, a fancy restaurant, man?"
Rick rolled his eyes. "No, dude, this jacket belonged to Jacob Hall."
"Who's that, like, someone famous?" Jess asked.
Garrett rolled his eyes. "He's the pastor at Harvest Chapel. He's a real asshole."
"Why?" Jess asked.
"The motherfucker got Rick fired from the comic shop, that's why he's a sandwich artist," Zane said.
Eyes went back and forth around the circle; paranoia was creeping in. Garrett could feel the unease. "He's a right-wing moral crusader. He found out The Tower was selling some porno comics and started picketing the place. The owner made Rick out to be the fall guy," Garrett explained.
Marie's voice cut through the chatter. "How did you get that?"
Rick laughed. "Relax, I got it fair and square. Two dollars at the Harvest Chapel annual flea market last week."
Zane laughed. "Dude, that could be anyone's jacket. Just because you bought it at the church rummage doesn't make it Hall's."
Rick frowned. "Oh, ye of little faith — do you think me a dumbass?" Rick dramatically opened the jacket and pointed to a sewn tag. *Custom Tailored for Jacob Hall* was clearly written in bold letters.
"Son of a bitch," Zane said.
Garrett saw Marie's eyes open wide, but they weren't looking at the coat — they were locked on Ashton. Ashton had a look in his eyes like constipation, like he was trying hard to do something that should be easy. His friend got up and walked across the circle and looked at the coat.
"Sorry, I thought…" Rick held up the coat in confusion as Ashton studied the inside. He moved his hand across to a nearly hidden inside breast pocket and slipped out a piece of folded paper, browned with age.
"Oh," Ashton said.
Rick grabbed the paper from Ashton's hand. "What the fuck is this?"
He unfolded it and held up a kid's crayon drawing. It showed a large man in the center with a Bible in his hand. A woman in a dress with long red hair, a boy, and a girl. Behind them was green grass, blue sky, and a white church. All drawn in the wondrous style of a kid. Scrawled on the bottom were the words, "Love you Daddy, Maisey."
"Oh shit, dude, that's the preacher's daughter. That's got to be old," Jess said.
Garrett kept moving his eyes back and forth between Marie and Ashton. Something freaky was happening.
"I can see the writing on the back," Ashton said, and pointed it out.
The circle closed in around Rick as he read the hastily scrawled notes.
"Fleetfoot in the 1st. Black Samba in the 2nd. Jason's Argonaut in the 5th. What the hell is this shit?"
There was a phone number scrawled down as well.
Garrett laughed. "Oh my God, dude. That's horse racing shit. Like, tips, you know. Your holy preacher was getting some insider knowledge. I bet that's the guy's number. He's a fucking gambling addict."
Laughter erupted around the circle, but again Marie's voice rang out clearly. "What do you intend to do with this?"
Rick's mouth formed a deep V smile. "I've prepared a little something. A curse for Jacob Hall."
The room grew quiet. Ashton handed the paper back to Rick and walked over to lean against a wall.
Rick looked around the group. "Let's go out to Hart's Bluff and raise a little hell."
Garrett saw Jess and Marie look at each other; they whispered. He then turned and saw Ashton leaning against the wall, looking sick.
Hoots went up around the room; rides were being figured out. Rick pulled a worn green army-issue backpack from his sea chest. "Let's ride, motherfuckers," he said, and they left the room.
"Hey, are you two going?" Marie asked as Garrett and Ashton were walking out to the Jeep.
"Hell yeah, I wouldn't miss this," Garrett said.
Marie shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Alright, can we ride with you? I'm low on gas, and I don't know where this bluff is."
"Hop in," Garrett said.