Nathan's Clan of Deadheads Page 14

  Zach tugged on his sleeve. “Nate, forget it. Let’s go.”

  “Absolutely not. I don’t take kindly to folks thinkin’ they’re better than others based on how they happened to be dressed at the moment.” He turned again to the hostess. “Now, you’ll lead us to what I reserved, or we’ll seat ourselves right here in the main room. And,” he wrapped a hand lightly around her wrist, and looked her square in the eye, “should you not, I think I’ll arrange to buy the entire company, just so’s I can fire you.”

  The woman pulled away, and returned his card and license. “Wait here a moment. I’ll make sure the room is ready for you.”

  “Sir,” Nathan corrected.

  “Jonathan,” the woman called out, and waited.

  “Nate, come on, we can eat somewhere else.”

  The latest affront sealed the deal. “No. No, we can’t. We’ll eat right here.” He considered his hankering for a good meal may have made him more insistent, but backing down from this fight now wasn’t an option.

  A man in a tuxedo came through a swinging door. “What is it, Sidnee?”

  “I believe your hostess here has a problem.” Nathan waved the credit card toward her.

  Jonathan walked over. “I apologize. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it; she’s just looking out for the interests of the establishment. I’m the maître ‘d, is there something I can help with?”

  “You can show us to the Board Room and make good on our reservation,” Nathan said holding the card out. “And, then, I believe, Sidnee is in serious need of an attitude adjustment.”

  The maître ‘d took the card, and scowled at the woman. “Right this way, sir.”

  “Now, ya’ll see how difficult that was?” Nathan asked sweetly as he lifted his palms.

  “No. Yes. Sorry.” Sidnee’s face flushed red.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. I don’t believe I caught that quite right.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  Nathan nodded, gave a beckoning wave of the hand to Zach, and they followed Jonathan to their table.

  The walls of the room were oak clad to the halfway mark and capped with an oak chair rail. Capable of seating fourteen, it had been set for two at the end closest to the door. Jonathan handed Nathan his credit card, held their chairs to seat them, placed napkins in their laps, and then handed them each a menu. “I apologize again, sir. Allow me to offer you a bottle of wine for the trouble. I have a beautiful Argentinian Cabernet.”

  “That’d be most kind.”

  Jonathan opened a door on a side cabinet to reveal a wine cooler, pulled a bottle, and put a splash of rich, deep red wine into Nathan’s goblet. He swirled the glass until small bubbles appeared at the sides, lifted it, gathering more air as he sipped, and allowed the liquid to wash over his tongue. He swallowed, waited a moment, and nodded.

  Setting the bottle in front of Nathan after he filled their glasses, Jonathan stepped back. “I’ll give you a few moments to look over the menu,” he said, and left the room.

  After the door closed, Zach let out a whistle. “Hoo, boy. I’ve never seen you put on airs like that.”

  “That ain’t airs, Zachariah. That’s expecting to be treated properly, commanding a bit of respect for—”

  An argument ensued, albeit muffled by the doors. Finally, “That man could probably buy this place ten times over. Don’t ever—ever—make that mistake again. If corporate hears about this, you’ll be lucky if you don’t find your ass out on the street tomorrow morning.”

  Zach and Nathan both burst into quiet laughter. Nathan raised his glass. “Ah, just desserts, properly served.”

  The menu, hand-selected by Nathan, brought expressions of surprise to Zach.

  “An order each of King Crab to start. Follow that with Caesar salad. We’ll each have the Commodore. No, change that. Let’s go with the Jumbo Cold Water Lobster accompanied by the New York Strip, the steak barely red in the center, baked potato instead of mashed with plenty of butter and sour cream.” He paused to consult Zach, “Chives?” Then, “No chives. And open another bottle of this here wine.”

  “Yes, sir.” The waiter backed out of the room, never once having put pen or pencil to paper.

  “Holy shit, Nate. Do you eat like this all winter long?”

  “As much as I can. It kinda makes up for all the hog slop we eat at the compound.” Nathan smiled and pointed a finger at him. “If you ever repeat that to Sarah, I’ll drown every body you come home with in the creek.”

  He planned it as much as a compatibility test with this new self as anything else. If anything went odd, why, he’d just have to take Erick right back to where he found him. So, when each course found its way to the table, Nathan focused on the meal and let Zachariah talk. If he tossed in a question, Nathan fielded it as if each word cost him a wad of cash for the privilege. He closed his eyes and held each sweet morsel on his palate, as if the Eucharist itself melted there. The lobster, dipped in clarified butter, tasted every bit as fresh as the trout they reeled in each year; the romaine so crisp it snapped in his mouth like it’d just been picked from a garden. Then the steak…rich flavor burst through in the juices flooding his mouth, and melted like a savory caramel.

  Between courses, he told Zach about the newscast that focused on Chris wandering around like an amnesia patient, and hoped the man regained himself and found his way home. Then answered the inevitable question: “What brought on such an early switching of selves?”

  Zach only smiled and said, “Took a bit of a walk on the wild side, did you?” and winked. “But, what the hell, Nate, that’s why we do this, right? To experience life?”

  Nathan nodded. “But, you know how we mostly keep to ourselves out there is important. There could be trouble brewing if we ain’t careful.”

  The door opened and the waiter offered them dessert menus. Nathan declined for himself, and hoisted his wine glass toward Zach. “But, ya’ll go ahead if there’s something there appealing to you.”

  “I’m stuffed. Honest. I don’t think I could sneak a single peanut into my stomach, even if the airline had given me extra to take with me.”

  “Then I reckon we’ll just go walk this off,” Nathan replied, handing the credit card to the waiter. When the check came, surprised to find it lower than expected, he added a hefty tip to compensate for taking up a table meant for fourteen, drank the last of the wine in one gulp, and stood.

  “Thank you, Nathan. That was epic.”

  “Well, sir, you deserved it for your effort. Now, if we can make it to the mall before closing, I plumb forgot to get myself a suitcase. Can’t go hauling my clothes around in bags, and I intend to move into better quarters tomorrow.”

  “I’ve got nothing better to do.” Zach held the door open, and swept an arm into a deep bow. “Lead on.”

  They half-ran the couple city blocks and dashed through the mall. Nathan picked out a Filson duffle bag for the casual stuff, and a garment bag for dressier things. Then he sought out the clerk. “I’m still in need of something small for personal things, like my razor. Ya’ll know what I mean? Can you recommend something that might fit in this duffle?”

  Not finding anything properly lined in case of spills, he settled on a bike bag. Then he insisted on buying Zach “at least a change of skivvies and a clean shirt to return home in tomorrow. It’s the least I can do.”

  By the time they headed out for the hotel, a light snow drifted in large flakes. The wind had died and their pace slowed, giving Zach plenty of time to enjoy the smoke he hadn’t gotten during or after the meal. Not that he hadn’t tried, running was not very conducive to sucking down a cigarette. During the meal, he attempted to sneak out between courses; it happened the waiter popped in with uncanny timing.

  Nathan approached the desk and punched the bell a couple times. A clerk rounded the doorway with a smile. “What can we do for you, Mr. Crockett?”

  “My friend here needs a room for the night. Ya’ll can add it to my bill.”

  Her e
xpression clouded. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, sir. We don’t have any vacancies at all. Would you like me to call another hotel and see if they can arrange something?”

  “You know, Nate, I can just take a cab to the airport and go home.”

  “What flight do you think you’re gonna find headed to Roanoke at this hour. No, sir. You’ll stay the night. Well, now, the plan is to move to the Ritz-Carlton tomorrow. Let’s see if they have anything.”

  They leaned against the counter and waited for her. Her tightly woven braids swung as she shook her head. “Not until tomorrow. Most people check out on Sunday. I’m really sorry, Mr. Crockett.”

  “Guess you’ll just have to make do bunking down with me. That is, if you don’t mind.” He addressed the clerk, “That’s all right, isn’t it?”

  “If you don’t tell, I won’t. How’s that?”

  Chapter 30

  A street light still cast a shadow through the gauze of the sheers drawn over the windows when something shook Nathan awake. His body dripped with sweat. He sat up and ran his hands across the top of his head. The damp hair clung to his scalp as if he’d recently dunked it in the creek.

  Zach’s voice came at him. “Are you okay? You were thrashing around a bit.”

  He turned to look at Zach, then gazed around the room before the realization hit. He’d never had the dream repeat so soon, but this time it played out a bit different. This time the old man was at the compound. “Sorry. Just the strangest dream, is all. What time is it?”

  “Not quite six.”

  Nathan swung his feet over the side of the bed, sat there and ran his hands over his face. “I swear I’ve seen that old man. I just can’t place it. Feels like I’m trying to wrestle a hunk of coal from the side of the mineshaft.”

  Zach shifted on the bed. “What old man?”

  “What?”

  “You said something about an old man wrestling a hunk of coal.”

  “This old black guy, dressed all disheveled and such. He stares at me and shakes his head.”

  “Doesn’t he say anything?”

  No sense in going that far into it. It wouldn’t do to throw a scare into Zach or any of the others at the compound if he spilled the beans when he went back. “Not a word. He just shakes his head real sad-like, and walks off.”

  Not exactly true. The heater kicked on, and despite the rush of warm air a shudder ran down Nathan’s torso. He rose and went into the bathroom to stand in the shower under the spray of hot water.

  Zach’s voice came to him from the darkness. “Is it okay if I put the light on?”

  “I expect so.” Might as well get a start on the day. Maybe the gym in the mall would be open by the time he’d dressed and hunted down some coffee and breakfast. Nathan showered and shaved, then called out to Zach and swapped places. “Use what you need.”

  Nathan had already dressed and sat in the single casual chair when Zach stood pulling his new clothing from the bag and asked, “What do I do with the dirty?”

  “Throw ’em away.”

  Zach halted in buttoning his pants. “The shirt, too?”

  “Don’t see what else you can do, ’less you want to carry around a smelly bag. You hungry?”

  “A bit. Mostly, I want coffee.”

  With the mall locked, they walked around the outside to gain access to the casino. In the coffee shop, over a breakfast better than what Nathan expected, Zach insisted with his questions about the dream.

  Weary of the avoidance game, Nathan spit out, “Nothing to tell, Zachariah. It’s just some old geezer shows up and tsk-tsks, then walks off shakin’ his head.”

  “Live guy, or deadhead?”

  “Deadhead.” Dropping his fork to the table, Nathan added, “What difference does it make? It’s a dream, nothing more.”

  “Well, I’m just trying to help you figure it out, analyze it a bit.”

  “And, I appreciate that. I do,” Nathan said. “But, what good does it do? My Big Mama always told me, ‘Nathaniel Ray, don’t chase after the fox once he’s got a hen in his mouth. All it does is tire you out.’ ”

  “I don’t get the analogy, there.”

  “It means, conjecturing on the meaning of my dream certainly won’t solve any waking issues. You done?” Nathan stood and plucked the check from the table.

  Zach drained his coffee, and made a point of checking the time. “I guess I best get a move on. I figured I’d be back by now. You think I could hail a cab from the hotel?”

  Truth was, a spark of recognition about the old man had snapped in Nathan’s brain. If it got some air maybe, just maybe, the ember would flare. But something in his gut told him he didn’t want to remember. “I think we can do a might better than a taxi.”

  “You aren’t thinking of chauffeuring me out to the airport, are you? There’s no need for you to cut time out of your holiday,” Zach offered on the way to the cashier.

  “Don’t you worry about that none. I have plenty of time. Besides, it’d be my pleasure. Ya’ll have gone above and beyond for me and it’s about time I do something nice in return.”

  “Now, you do plenty for us. It’s your land we live on, scot free I might add. And you get us things when we go on our supply runs.”

  “Oh, hush, now,” Nathan demurred, stuffing his change into his wallet. It always did embarrass him to have folks fuss over a kindness. “All that saves me from livin’ like some kind of hermit. I do appreciate what all of you do, let me show it once in a while.”

  Nathan led the way to the Ritz lobby and, handing over his credit card and ID, reserved his room, long term. Signing the paperwork, he gave the desk clerk a smile. “Now, then, I know it’ll be a bit before I can go up. Do ya’ll think you could rustle up a limousine? I need to hustle my friend here off to the airport.”

  “Absolutely, Mr. Crockett. Please have a seat near the front door, and he’ll pull around for you. Is there anything we might do for you, or get for you, while you wait?”

  “No, thank you. But, it’s kind of you to ask.”

  Once they were ensconced in the car and on the way, and Nathan had raised the window between the passengers and driver’s cab, they considered it safe to talk.

  “I imagine you’ve had quite the adventure so far.”

  “Cincinnati was the worst. Some new sect, call themselves the Watchers or some such thing, turned the place into a real ghost town. I mean, you know how there’s usually plenty of dead folks wanderin’ around any city. Well, sir, they were being swallowed up like they’d stepped into a bog and drowned.”

  “How do you think you made it out?” Zach opened a window and reached for his pack of smokes.

  “Sorry, buddy,” Nathan shook his head. “Not allowed in here. You know, that part’s a bit on the foggy side. I mean, I drove out, obviously, but how I escaped detection, I’m not entirely sure. But, then, you remember hearing about that big wedding?” Zach nodded. “Well, the bride, she’s the one who heads up the Watchers. I met her when I stopped for a bit in Dayton.”

  In response to Zach’s expression, Nathan recounted the meeting. As he was about to go into the details of the park, he stopped short. The tightest knot he’d ever experienced formed in his stomach.

  Zach grabbed his forearm. “Nathan, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Winter chill. Maybe this new self has caught himself a cold.” Nathan coughed for good measure.

  The ember blazed.

  Chapter 31

  Nathan dropped Zachariah at Departures for his flight out of Cleveland Hopkins back to Roanoke. On the trip to retrieve his luggage from the hotel, and heading to the Ritz to check in, he fought against the panic. A cold sweat made his skin clammy. A shiver ran through him and he fired up the heat in the passenger cabin of the limo. The man who invaded his dreams, this Jason, he’d been right there in the park. Stood not thirty feet from him.

  The idea of instructing the chauffeur to turn around and take him to the terminal where he could hop a flight to any remote pl
ace on earth, maybe Fiji or the like, struck Nathan as a possibility. Part of him wanted to do just that. At the same time, he couldn’t leave Zachariah and the rest to fend for themselves. Not that they weren’t capable, but it would take a mighty bit of paperwork and what-not to give Zach the legal authority to handle the compound’s affairs. Plus, they’d become the family he couldn’t have, and he surely would miss them. Every one of them.

  The old man had to have known Nathan stood there as mesmerized as the rest of the deadheads in that park. Yet, he never turned those eyes on him. So, if he’d been that close, that able to nab him with a simple command, why didn’t he? It didn’t make sense.

  Maybe Nathan and his clan weren’t such awful criminals after all. Tommy had said lots of folks took over the living for a jaunt. Maybe they could lower their guard a bit. Nathan’s gut refused to listen on that score. But, he might make a stop in Dayton on his way back to the compound in the Spring. Talk to Jenna. Plain as the dust covering a miner, he would come right on out and ask her.

  The idea loosened the granny knots in his shoulders. Yet, when he arrived in the room, after a hefty tip to the porter for toting his luggage, he shed his clothes and stood under a hot shower, and tried to push the whole affair out of his head. This was his winter vacation, a time for fun, a time for the finer things in life. It wouldn’t do to have it interrupted by some nightmarish phantom. He simply wouldn’t allow it.

  As his head hit the pillow, he smiled at the luxuriousness of it, and drifted off. When the nightmare invaded, half-awake, he pushed it away. Nathan burrowed around in Erick’s brain to find something pleasant to dream about.

  The sun poured through a hole in the clouds and drilled into Nathan’s sleep. He rolled over to check the time. “Ten A.M. Holy… I slept all the way through.”

  With arms above his head, he pointed his toes, and held the stretch for a long moment. He picked up the phone, ordered breakfast along with a pot of strong, black coffee, and went into the bathroom. As he stepped out of the shower, a deep voice called out “Room Service,” and a tingle ran through him.