Nathan's Clan of Deadheads Read online

Putting herself into a prone position behind him, Jenna slid in. As she tried to move to stand up, the boy cried out in pain. She searched for injuries. Moving him would increase the damage, the internal bleeding might kill him. Slipping back out of his bludgeoned body, she couldn’t leave. “Phone. Where’s your cell phone?”

  She found it at the edge of the clearing and brought it to life. “Dammit. Now what?”

  She crawled back into him until she recovered the password, punched in the numbers and dialed.

  “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

  “Help me,” was all she said.

  “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

  “Help,” she repeated. Removing herself to stand over him, she hoped the phone’s GPS system would lead them to the boy. She moved to the base of a tree and leaned against the sturdy trunk to wait with him.

  Aware of more violence not far from where she sat, Jenna let out an exasperated sigh. Somewhere there would be an answer, there had to be an answer.

  Chapter 17

  In a spur of the moment decision, Nathan followed Marvin, Tommy, and Mike out of Mr. C’s, but kept a safe distance behind. He wanted to ease into things, approach them on his own terms.

  His Big Mama always told him, “there’s two nickels in every dime.” If he managed to become friends, instead of taking the word of the two deadheads in that pub he might be able to lick the gravy right off the plate, so to speak, and know exactly what this new sect was all about. In fact, now that he thought about it, it sounded like a good plan. The right plan. The awful inquisition he’d witnessed in Cincinnati scared the bejesus out of him, and the rapid ingesting didn’t sit right.

  At the Cineplex, Nathan lost sight of them in the crowds of the living who stood in the concession line, milled around talking to friends, or rushed about so as not to miss the start of their chosen film. And the number of deadheads jostling for position behind the counter to snatch popcorn, or nachos, or hot dogs numbed his mind. In his estimation that was not food, it was fused chemicals. As a result, he had to stick his head into each screening room until he found the three men sitting through commercials and previews. Climbing up to the back of the theater, he found a seat as close to them as possible, and waited for the right moment to open a dialogue.

  Marvin dropped his head back, looking at the ceiling, and moaned. “Holy mother of Mary. It’s not enough we get all these same ads on television, we have to sit through them here, too?”

  “Oh, come on, Brody. Give it a rest, will you? You make the same comment every time we come to see something,” Mike said, leaning forward to talk around Tommy, who sat between them.

  “I hear ya. I’m dead tired of them, too,” Tommy deadpanned and tossed a handful of popcorn he pilfered from the concessions stand into his mouth. “But, speaking of being dead, dudes, I’m telling you. There was a deadhead in that guy at the deli. I’d bet my life on it.”

  Reaching behind Tommy, Marvin tapped Mike’s shoulder. “Now who needs to give it a rest?”

  “Dudes, I’m just saying, I think we should ask Jenna or Nancy if it’s against the rules.”

  Nathan opened his mouth to ask about the women, but Mike reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of popcorn and beat him to the punch. “How can it be against any rules when you did it yourself for an entire week? Did either Jenna or Nancy even threaten to swallow you up?”

  “Oh, come on, dude, that was different.”

  “How was that different, hippie? You pushed your way into a guy and manned the grill for seven days until Moe recovered from his heart attack.”

  “That’s what made it different, Marvin. I was helping, not stealing someone’s life.” Tommy held the bag out to him.

  “That stuff sticks in my teeth.” Marvin waved it away. “Yeah, well, tell that to the homeless man you used.”

  “Hey,” Mike interjected, “the guy had nothing to complain about. He got new clothes, new shoes, three meals a day, and a shower every night. And he was no worse for the wear at the end of the week.”

  “Besides,” Marvin continued, “you’re the first to start with the pranks, when did you turn all vigilante about deadhead behavior?”

  “Excuse me,” Nathan leaned forward and butted in. “But, could ya’ll explain somethin’ for me?”

  Tommy turned to him. “Sure thing, dude.”

  “You seem to know a lot about this new sect I heard tell about. These two women you mentioned, are they part of it?”

  Marvin nudged Tommy’s arm. “What’s it to you?”

  “Well, now, it might could be important, might not. But, do ya’ll know if they’ve been in Cincinnati recently?”

  “They haven’t left Dayton in months,” Marvin replied without swiveling around to talk directly to the man.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Marvin here,” Tommy said, pointing to him, “should know. He’s married to Jenna. But, you know, dude—”

  “What’s this about?” Marvin asked, twisting his body in to the conversation.

  “Well, sir, I just come up from that way. Folks are scramblin’ and a-flutterin’ like a fox snuck into the henhouse, on account of them,” Nathan explained. A vision of the deadheads he’d seen hitching rides out of Cincinnati leapt into his mind, furrowing his brow.

  A concerned expression spread across Marvin’s face. “Well that makes no sense. Jenna and Nancy are the first to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

  Mike pushed an elbow into Tommy’s side. “Movie’s starting.”

  “This doesn’t sound right at all, dude. Can you hang out when this is over?” Tommy asked.

  “I guess. There’s no deadline nipping at my butt.”

  “Far out, man.” Tommy smiled, and turned to watch the film.

  Nathan’s concentration wavered each time the theme of the movie moved to question the life of the main character; was it better as the star of films, or better proving his worth and skill as an actor on Broadway reviving an old script. The end left Nathan hanging when the character leapt from the rooftop, not knowing if he hit the pavement with a loud splat, or he really could soar like Birdman, the superhero he’d portrayed. Nathan’s opinion leaned toward the former and would’ve counseled him to keep on tasting the keen flavors of life’s offerings.

  “The buzz that dude is getting for an Oscar is totally right on,” Tommy stated and rose from his chair when the credits ended and house lights brightened.

  “Do tell, Mr. Ebert,” Marvin said.

  “Oh, dude, you tease, but I’m telling you. That was one very cool performance. You wait and see, he is knocking on Oscar’s door.”

  Nathan stood and stretched. “It sure leaves a body to ponder, doesn’t it?”

  “What’s that?” Mike asked, making his way toward the exit aisle behind Tommy and Marvin.

  “The movie. It makes you think about the quality of your life, don’t you think?”

  “Right now, the only thing I’m ‘pondering’ is my stomach,” Marvin offered. “Anyone else hungry again?”

  “Good lord, Brody, it’s been less than four hours.” Mike turned to Nathan. “Don’t mind him, he’s not really much for analyzing anything.”

  “About all I’m hungry for right now is finding out why these new-fangled Keepers, or whatever, seem to be delivering some pretty tough sentences.” Nathan followed them down the stairs of the theater. “Any knowledge ya’ll might bring to the schoolhouse would surely be welcome.”

  “Maybe you should get your answers straight from the source,” Tommy said over his shoulder.

  The meaning wasn’t lost on Nathan. He knew all about Jason’s version of Keeper. Nightmares aside, if he’d done anything to deserve that certain demise, it’s right likely it would’ve happened already. The thought of meeting one of this new breed face to face made him wonder if this might be a bit like poking a bear just coming out of hibernation. He bit down on his toothpick, breaking it in half.

  “What do you think, dudes, w
ould Jenna mind if we brought a friend home?”

  “Friend? We don’t even know the guy’s name,” Marvin said, rounding the dividing wall at the base of the steps and looking directly at Nathan.

  “Well, sir, where I come from everyone’s a friend,” Nathan said from the back of the line.

  Tommy poked Marvin. “Dude, did I know your name before I took you under my wing?”

  “As a matter of fact, you did.”

  “Oh, right. Hey,” Tommy called over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

  “Nate,” spit out of his mouth before he could stop it and he cringed.

  Tommy halted and before he could stop himself, Mike marched right through him. He turned to face Nathan and broke into a smile. “That’s the same name of the guy they found. Hey, you’re not him, are you?”

  “No. No, sir. Purely coincidental, I assure you.”

  “But, Nate is short for Nathan, or even Nathaniel, right?”

  “Uh, I suppose it could be.” Nathan fought to stay focused, to avoid appearing guilty. “But, that’s a pretty common name, don’t you think. I mean, it’s right out of the Good Book.”

  Tommy stared at him for a long moment, frowned, and then shrugged it off. “I guess. So, then, anyway, this is Mike.”

  Nathan exchanged a handshake, and nodded. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

  “And,” Tommy continued, winking, “the hungry, surly one is Marvin.”

  “I’ll give you surly, hippie.” Marvin scrubbed his knuckles across Tommy’s skull.

  “Dude,” Tommy said through laughter, and moved away, “the coif, man. But, see Marvin? Now we know his name.”

  “And I suppose you think that means he’s a friend.” Marvin accepted the offered hand.

  “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

  “We won’t be friends long if you don’t stop with the sir bullshit.”

  Nathan smiled in agreement. “Consider it done.” He discarded the mangled toothpick in a nearby trash can and pulled a fresh one from a pocket as he followed them out of the building.

  Chapter 18

  Nathan walked close behind Marvin when he pushed through the door of the hotel suite. Tommy and Mike, claiming in the elevator ride up to be tired but too interested in hearing what Jenna might have to say to return to their own room, were right behind them.

  Marvin called out to the empty living area. “Jenn, hon, I’d—”

  Jenna came in from the balcony and put her wine glass on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Not now, Marvin. I have some things I need to attend to.”

  “It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  Jenna scowled as she breezed past them. “I said, not now.”

  “Can’t it wait? I mean, this guy is here to—” Marvin said to her retreating back, his words trailing off when Jenna melted through the door and out into the hallway.

  Tommy turned to him. “Well, dude, I guess that answers that.”

  “Jesus H. I hate when she does that. What would it take to stay long enough for an introduction, would that be so terrible?” Marvin started toward the door to go after her.

  Mike grabbed the back of Marvin’s shirt. “Brody!”

  Though Mike’s hand breezed right through the shirt because of the opposing forces, Marvin stopped. “What?”

  “I’m guessing Nate did not come here to listen to one of your rants. Why don’t we just sit with a glass of that wine you keep stashed while we wait for her to get back?”

  “Yeah, dude, let her go take care of business, and in the meantime we can get to know Nathan.” Tommy hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

  Nathan stood rigid, his toothpick threatening to poke right through his cheek. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. If ya’ll don’t mind, I believe I’ll be takin’ my leave.”

  “Oh, don’t mind them,” Tommy said, turning to Nathan. “Dude, they’re always nipping at each other’s butts.” Tommy placed a hand alongside one cheek and leaned in. “Between you and me—”

  “I’ll give you between you and me, hippie. Just never you mind.”

  Nathan didn’t relax his stance at all. This could be a bit like getting between a couple of hogs in the pen fighting over dinner scraps. “It really isn’t that all-fired important. I can find ya’ll when things calm down a might. You know, when she’s not pre-occupied.”

  “Oh, relax. Have a seat.” Mike gestured to the couch. “Come on, Marvin will break open a bottle of wine, won’t you, Brody.”

  Torn between wanting to know more and wanting to run through the glass doors and leap from the balcony, Nathan’s gaze moved from watching Marvin open the wine and the path to freedom. To draw attention away from the heel of his boot tapping against the floor, he started a conversation. “Can I ask ya’ll a question? I’m about as confused as a rooster in the henhouse. Is it Marvin or Brody?”

  Marvin let out a laugh. “Well, you can blame the Brody on Mike. He started that while we were at Harvard. It’s shortened from my last name, Broudstein. This schmuck,” Marvin said, handing a glass of wine to Tommy, “calls me Marvin. That is when he’s not calling me dude.”

  “Oh, come on, Marvin. That’s not fair. I call everyone dude.”

  “True enough,” Marvin said. “As long as we’re clearing things up, is it Nathan or Nate?”

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter, either one.” Accepting his glass of wine, Nathan whistled. “Harvard, huh. That’s impressive. I didn’t get past the ninth grade. My daddy decided he needed me at the coal mines more than I needed school.”

  “That must’ve been tough, being pulled out of school.” Mike led the group to the living area and sat at one end of the couch. “Make yourself at home, Nathan.”

  Nathan perched on the edge of his seat at the other end. “Well, not really. I was fortunate to get that far. Most folks didn’t even go to school when I was a kid. Those who did, well, sir, they were lucky to make it far enough to learn to read and write.”

  “Dude, that’s harsh,” Tommy said, lighting on the arm of the couch next to Mike.

  “Not really. It’s the way it was done in those days.”

  Marvin plopped down into the chair opposite them. “Holy mother of Mary! How long have you been dead?”

  Figuring it best to stick to the truth where he could, Nathan gazed up at the ceiling and tried to recount. “Let’s see. I was born in eighteen-twenty-seven, and I was thirty when the explosion happened. That’s eighteen-fifty-seven.”

  “That must’ve been tough on your family. I mean, your kids losing their dad and all.”

  “I didn’t have any kids.” Despite the regret, Nathan gave a small shrug. “Life centered around the coal mines. It would’ve been nice though because I did come from a large family if you include all the relatives.”

  Mike jabbed an elbow through Tommy’s thigh. “Holy crap. You’re not the oldest deadhead around here anymore.”

  “You were around for the Civil War? Dude, that is far out.”

  “What a thing to say. You know, I’d bet it wasn’t all that cool, ya schmuck.” Marvin redirected his gaze to Nathan. “Don’t mind him. Sometimes he engages his mouth before his pot-addled brain can override it.”

  “Look who’s talking. Who rants over every little thing?” Mike hefted his wine glass at Marvin.

  Marvin shrugged, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. “So sue me.”

  “Nathan, what have you been doing all these years?”

  Nathan figured it best to gloss right over Mike’s question. “I mostly spend time on a compound in West Virginia. It’s nothing special, but I like it. Every once in a while, I wander on out to take a gander at what’s new in the world. But, what about ya’ll, how did you meet your demise?” He looked from one to the other.

  “Nose to nose with a bus,” Marvin replied.

  “Commuter plane crash, the week after that jet glided smoothly into the Hudson River.” Mike drew a hand gliding through the air and shook his head. “I will never
understand why our pilot couldn’t… Well, anyway.”

  “What about ya’ll?” Nathan asked Tommy.

  Tommy’s face darkened a bit, not able to hide the scowl that developed. “Got shot trying to keep a couple of guys from robbing the restaurant I worked in.”

  Marvin laughed. “Worked, as in past tense? He still serves up midnight snacks and Sunday morning breakfasts. Not that I’d ever complain. He puts together the best corned beef and pastrami you’ll ever set your teeth to.”

  Now Nathan understood why he’d seen Tommy and Mike bustling around the deli the other morning. “Where’s that? I’ll be sure to give it a try before I hustle on back home.”

  “Epstein’s Delicatessen,” Mike said, getting off the couch. “Anyone want a top off?”

  “I might could use a freshening.” Nathan settled himself all the way onto the couch.

  Mike returned with the bottle and divvied up what was left among the four glasses. “So, where is it you’re from? Originally?”

  “Baltimore, Maryland. My granddaddy settled there and started buying up mountain land. As much as he could, thinkin’ he’d sell the timber. And he did, right up to the time one of his surveyors told him what was underground was worth a lot more’n anything above.”

  “Huh?” accompanied Tommy’s quizzical expression.

  “The coal was worth a lot more’n the trees.”

  “He must’ve had a lot of money to do that.” Mike said, returning from the kitchen where he’d placed the empty, and sat again.

  Since he’d invested his trust fund well before his death, Nathan almost said ‘still do.’ Instead, he glanced around the hotel suite. “Ya’ll live up here, huh?”

  “Marvin and Jenna have this one, Mike and I are at the other end of the building, and Colleen and Patrick used to have one kind of in the middle, but it’s empty now.” Tommy’s expression clouded, as if his mind had traveled to a mournful destination.

  “Who were they?”

  “This really nice old couple. She was sweet as pie. I kind of miss them.”

  “Did they move?”

  “Hm. No, like a lot of older deadheads, they decided they’d had enough.”