Blue Castaway

By Rod Mertes

Blue Castaway is a fictional account of a man, Paul Porter, who after a drunken night of partying, accidentally ends the life of a witch. He must depart his normal lifestyle to fulfill the curse placed upon him with her dying breath. As part of the curse, she conjures a spell which scatters all of her personel effects throughout the United states and tasks him with returning them to her final resting place. Each of her belongings has its own spell that requires the object to be fed on a regular basis. Paul must find them before they can take their toll on their new owners. He discovers a possible end to the curse when he encounters a Midwestern girl by the name of Helen Wagner. She is in possession of a jigsaw puzzle with extraordinary, supernatural properties that used to belong to the witch. It ultimately changes both his and Helen's lives forever. Blue Castaway is the second of three novels centered around jigsaw puzzles with unusual and distinctly different supernatural properties, (the others being White Crest and Red Clover).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rod Mertes
• Release date: May 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311386915

Rod Mertes

I'm a Chicago native that has driven from coast to coast three times, (living in many places in between) and finally anchored in Tennessee. I served in the United States Navy as a hospital corpsman, (medic), and did a three year tour with the United States Marine Corps as a combat trained medic. After the service, I pursued a retail career and have been constantly involved with that in one capacity or another, (mainly store manager or district manager), and even tried my own personalized products business for a few years. I've always enjoyed writing, but my job and family always seemed to consume most of my time. One day I added novel publication to my bucket list, and shortly thereafter I dedicated myself to writing on a daily basis and have been doing so ever since. My first story was actually published in Evergreen magazine as a non-fiction piece about 20 years ago. I've also dabbled with poetry, but nothing too serious.

Book preview

Blue Castaway

By Rod Mertes

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2006

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events of locales is completely coincidental. They were all born in the mind of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to you favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CHAPTER ONE

THE RENDEZVOUS

Paul Porter’s sweaty, naked body pulled against the white bed linen as he sat slowly. He reached for a pack of cigarettes on a bedside table, put two between his lips and lit them. He passed one of them to Shannon, the red-headed woman to his left, smiled and said, Whew!! You sure as hell didn’t learn that on the Internet!

Shannon replied with a mischievous smile and inhaled deeply on her cigarette. The two sat quietly, each surveying the room décor and enjoying the afterglow of their encounter. The sounds of passing vehicles on the adjacent highway were barely filtered by the thin walls.

The faded, blue window curtains had been joined in the center with a safety pin and were missing several hooks along the curtain track. A narrow beam of sunlight shot through a gap just above the pin, proving to be the only bright spot on the shabby, white wall to Paul’s right.

There was a solitary painting glued to the wall above a small, four-drawer dresser. The scene depicted a small pond, littered with dead trees and numerous branches. The glass covering the scene was cracked in one corner and was coated with a thick, yellow film of nicotine.

The only other adornment was a dead air conditioner, mounted in the wall beneath the curtains. There was a rusty stain in the beige carpet below, indicating that it worked at some time.

Paul finished his cigarette, and casually crushed the remains in the ashtray. He gave Shannon a light kiss on the lips, turned and slid his legs over the side of the bed. He sighed and said reluctantly, I have to get going.

What’s the rush, there’s still an hour before checkout, said Shannon in a voice as soft as cotton. She put her cigarette out in the ashtray on her side of the bed and peeled the sweaty sheet back. She slid toward Paul, wrapped her arms around him and pressed her breasts into his back. She massaged his chest, while she slid her lips across his shoulders.

I’ve gotta be somewhere in an hour and I still have a stop to make, he answered as he wiped some sweat from his brow and headed for the shower.

Shannon looked to the bathroom, smiled and said, I’d join you but you’d never make your appointment!

Paul lathered his head and body with the tiny, complimentary bar of soap provided by the motel and rinsed as well as he could under the trickling warm water. He leaned against the mildewed, white tiles and held his head under the water. He tried to place the bar back into the soap dish, but was off the mark. When he turned to rinse his back, his left foot located the missing soap and he came crashing down. His right elbow smashed against the spout and ripped open a sizeable scab. He grimaced, clasped the wound with his left hand and rose slowly. As he watched the blood flow from his arm to the drain, his mind drifted to another time…another place.

He began thinking of his fishing trip to Florida and blood, lots and lots of blood, being washed from a boat deck.

He and his two best friends, Kevin Jennings and LJ Lancaster, were at Paul’s apartment drinking beer and watching a basketball game on Paul’s wide screen television. After the game, they channel surfed and settled on a movie about some guys hunting sharks in the ocean waters off the coast of Florida. None of their previous fishing expeditions had taken them beyond lakes or ponds. When they saw the ocean fishermen baiting a hook with a fish that was larger than any they had ever landed, they decided it was time to turn in their oars and go after a real fish.

They coordinated their vacations, headed to Florida and chartered a private fishing boat to go after sharks. They loaded more beer aboard the boat than fishing gear and headed out for open water. They threw chum out in several different areas recommended by the boat’s captain and drank beer as they waited for the gray monsters to appear. Sun blistering hours passed with no success. Then they stopped near Montclair Reef and lethargically repeated the chum process. Their efforts were finally rewarded and a huge shark locked onto one of the hooks. Paul and Kevin worked in tandem to maneuver the creature close to the boat. Then Kevin broke away and left Paul to struggle with the heavy, saltwater fishing rod. The steel hook held firmly in the shark’s mouth and brought it close enough to the boat for Kevin to lash at the thrashing beast with a rusty harpoon. LJ rushed forward, produced a .357 magnum handgun and fired wildly into the shark’s mid-section until he was out of ammunition.

The water surrounding the shark quickly shifted from a slightly choppy blue to a foamy red. Once aboard the boat, the mutilated shark whipped its tail from side to side and made a last, feeble attempt to bite something…anything. Kevin jabbed at it savagely with his harpoon, while Paul grabbed a steel club and battered the shark’s head. The shark’s gills went still and its lifeless body lay motionless on the deck. Paul didn’t like the way one of the eyes was looking at him, so he used his club to beat the eye and surrounding area until it was totally indistinguishable. The three friends smiled, stood side by side, each with one foot on the shark’s body and posed proudly as the captain took several pictures.

Kevin and LJ went to the cooler for a beer, while Paul used the steel club to bang one of the shark’s teeth out as a souvenir. His first attempts resulted in mere fragments, so he used his hunting knife to dig one out. The captain had a beer and a few laughs with the triumphant warriors before they pushed the shark back into the sea. Afterwards, he washed the bloody deck and plotted the return course. Paul’s blood streamed down the drain much the same way the shark’s blood flowed over the side of the boat. The bathtub blood was significantly different in only one important way…it was Paul’s blood.

He was jerked back to reality when the warm water dwindled away and was replaced with a shocking cold spray. He chuckled as he got out of the shower and muttered to himself about that being the first time he was ever in a hotel or motel that ran out of hot water. He dried off, wrapped several layers of toilet paper around his elbow and dressed quickly. Shannon stared amorously as he looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.

She stood and moved to the end of the bed, mere inches from Paul. Her exquisite form was tantalizing and inviting. It took every ounce of self-control to keep his clothes on and his hands at a safe distance.

She began to caress his face lightly with her soft, slender fingers and looked longingly into his eyes. The single ray of sunlight that had slipped through the window curtains made her eyes sparkle like diamonds. You’re truly a handsome man, Mr. Porter. You have a powerful jaw and very kissable lips.

Shannon glided forward and pressed her lips tenderly against his. She smiled seduc-tively, and her eyes narrowed. Every part of Paul’s body was aroused and ready for renewed action. He thought about throwing her back on the bed and sexually ravishing her body once more. He was tempted alright…so tempted. He returned the smile and realized that he had to go at that moment, or he’d never be able to leave.

He ran his hands midway down her arms and gently eased her away from him. Then he walked rapidly to the nightstand and snatched up his wristwatch. I really have to go. When will you be back to Tupelo? he asked as he fastened the leather watchband.

Shannon lit a cigarette, exhaled forcefully and replied, I’ll be covering my St. Louis territory for at least the next three weeks. It’ll be close to a month before I hit Mississippi again. When I return, I’ll only be here for two or three days and then I’ll be flying to Louisiana for a week.

Paul looked at her thoughtfully, headed for the door and said, Actually, that’ll work well for me. I have several commitments coming up that will keep me busy for about the same amount of time. He put his hand on the doorknob and continued, Gotta go. Stay sexy!

Shannon followed him to the door, kissed him affectionately and said, I’ll call you when I get back into town.

Paul smiled as he opened the door and walked outside. The stifling heat and humidity of the July morning were almost suffocating, like a mythical creature pouncing on its prey and sucking the breath from its lungs. By the time he made it to the air conditioning of his black pickup truck, he was already dripping in sweat.

Shannon watched through the curtains until he started the engine and drove away. She finished her cigarette, sat on the edge of the bed and dialed a long distance telephone number. The phone rang several times before a panting male voice responded with a dry, Hello.

Hi, Sweetheart. Are you okay? It sounds like you need oxygen!

Hey, baby. It’s great to hear your voice. I was outside mowing and came in to get a drink of ice tea. I had no sooner gone back out and closed the door when I heard the phone ring. Todd, her husband, paused to catch his breath and then continued, So, how did the final meeting go yesterday?

Same old boring shit. That’s why I didn’t bother calling, she replied flatly. My flight should be landing there at four o’clock this afternoon. Would you like me to catch a cab?

Todd glanced at the flight number written on a slip of paper taped to a kitchen cabinet and said, No need, sweetie. I’ll be able to pick you up.

Okay, then. I’ll see you there. Love you.

Love you, too, he replied as they hung up. He poured another glass of cold tea, gulped it and went back outside to finish mowing. He looked across his lawn and saw his neighbor watering rows of assorted flowers she had planted underneath her bedroom windows. She saw Todd looking her way and turned the water off. She dropped the hose and walked over to greet Todd.

Hey, Yolanda. Your flowers are looking great. He looked back at his sparsely populated flower bed and smiled. You certainly have the magic touch. We need you to come over here and work your charms.

Thanks, Todd. Your flowers would be doing much better if you and Shannon had more time to devote to them. They don’t need any charms, just a little fertilizer and some daily watering.

Yolanda adjusted her sun hat and asked, When is Shannon due back?

She’ll be home in a couple of hours. I’m going to finish the lawn, run a few errands and then swing by the airport to pick her up.

This was one of her quickest trips in months. She wasn’t gone nearly as long as she usually is, said Yolanda.

You’re right. It was a very short junket this go-around.

It’s fortunate you guys don’t have any children. It would be so much more difficult and harder on everyone, offered Yolanda.

Todd nodded, bent over and removed the air filter on his lawn mower.

When does Shannon have to leave again? It would be nice if she could stay home and get some rest. Those business trips must take a lot out of her.

You’re right about the trips. They do take a lot out of her. She never seems to be able to get a good night’s sleep in hotel beds and always comes home exhausted. Thankfully, she won’t have to leave for some time. All of her appointments for the next three weeks or so are going to be within the St. Louis area. She should be home every night.

Todd examined the air filter and tapped it on his concrete driveway. He looked at the residue and then put the filter back in the mower.

Tell Shannon to stop by after she gets settled.

I’ll do that, Yolanda, he said as he donned his work gloves.

Yolanda dragged the hose over to a seedling and began spraying a fine mist around the base of the trunk. Todd waved goodbye, yanked on the starter cord and fired up his mower.

Back at the hotel, Shannon settled the bill and drove her rental car to a nearby diner. She ordered a salad and diet drink from a server that was in such a good mood, that it was almost scary. She was seated in a booth facing the door and waiting for her order to arrive, when a strikingly handsome man of medium build entered. His brown hair was cut in a military style and his short-sleeved shirt exposed well-developed biceps and forearms. His jeans were a snug fit and clearly defined every inch from the waist down. Shannon stared at the man’s statuesque physique and initially thought that it was Paul. If that’s not Paul, it sure as hell could be his twin, she thought as she started feeling aroused.

The man stood by the entrance and faced the parking lot. He was apparently waiting for someone else to arrive. He turned his head in Shannon’s direction and smiled at her. When she saw his face, she decided that the man’s features weren’t close enough to be Paul’s twin. He could, however, easily pass as Paul’s brother.

Shannon returned the smile and fidgeted slightly. She wanted a reflective surface to check her appearance, but couldn’t find any close by. When she glanced back at the stranger, he had turned his attention to another man walking across the parking lot.

What a hunk! I wonder if you’re like Paul in every respect, she said in a whisper as she drooled over the man at the door. The thought of a romantic interlude with the stranger excited and intrigued her. Shannon loved men. She wasn’t sure why she had a hard time limiting herself to just one. Maybe it was the excitement of new sex partners. Maybe it was the attention and gifts. It may have been all those things combined and more. She wasn’t really sure and spent little time thinking or worrying about it.

She looked around the diner and tried to think of a good introduction line. Striking up a conversation with Paul on their first encounter was easy. She met him in a Tupelo sports bar that was televising a professional baseball game on a wide-screen set. She had a working knowledge of the sport and chided in with others as they critiqued a bad call by an umpire.

Paul lived in Walls, Mississippi and had driven to Tupelo to help his brother repair the wooden fence running along his property line. Several sections had succumbed to nature’s persuasive forces and collapsed. Afterward, both men were dehydrated and physically drained from their exposure to a grueling ninety-six degree day. They went to the sports bar to relax and recover.

Shannon was a slender, sexy woman with an attractive face and had little problem holding any man’s interest. Conversation of any substance was rarely an essential ingredient. Such was the case with Paul.

The waiting man left the diner and met the approaching man just in front of a metal newspaper rack. They hugged briefly and kissed each other cordially on the lips. Shannon witnessed the affectionate encounter and immediately scrapped any further efforts to develop conversation topics.

She raised her eyebrows and looked at the approaching waitress. Hmmm…he’s not exactly like Paul. I can’t speak for his brother though, she said softly.

Excuse me? said the waitress.

Shannon smiled and said, It’s nothing. I was just muttering to myself.

CHAPTER TWO

MADAME NAVOISE

Paul eyed the digital clock on his dashboard and exclaimed, Shit! I’ll never make it on time.

He finally saw the exit sign he had been looking for and sped off the main highway. Unfortunately, a Mississippi state trooper was waiting patiently with an active radar gun.

The trooper pulled him over, walked up to Paul’s window and said, Hey, Paul. How’ve you been?

Fair. And you? replied Paul as he removed his driver’s license and proof of insurance from his wallet.

I’m doing well, thanks. I see you still favor the far right pedal, stated the trooper as he received the documents.

Paul looked out the passenger window and offered no reply as the officer began writing.

The officer looked at the empty gun rack behind Paul’s head and said, Done any huntin’ lately?

Not much. Been too busy working.

The trooper finished writing the ticket, handed the book to Paul for his signature and said, Still working at that auto body shop?

Paul signed the ticket, handed the book back to the officer and said, Nah. I took a warehouse job in Memphis. Better pay and chances for advancement there.

You still live here though?

Yeah, it’s a drive for sure. I don’t mind it as long as traffic keeps moving. It only gets frustrating when some idiot screws up the works with an accident.

The officer gave Paul his copy of the ticket and said, Slow down or you’ll be walking to that warehouse! He tipped his hat and returned to his police car.

Paul drove off slowly and maintained a safe driving posture until he reached the side road he had been searching for. Taking that particular dirt road had the potential of being hazardous. He liked to use it because it cut a critical twenty minutes off of his driving time to his apartment. He had used the five-mile, rural stretch of unpaved road on several occasions. He didn’t like to use it on a regular basis because it was liberally peppered with deep and unforgiving ruts. The holes in the road often doubled as small ponds after heavy rains. Unfortunately, as luck would have it, the area had experienced a torrential downpour the preceding day and the road was reduced to a slippery, red clay mess. Negotiating the road would be more like venturing on an amusement park slide than driving.

Paul cut to the right to avoid a large pool of water and directed his truck to a much smaller one. He immediately validated the expression, big things come in little packages, when he drove into the monster rut just beneath the water surface. The recoil slammed his head into the roof of the truck cab and sprayed red mud onto the surrounding kudzu.

Damn!! he exclaimed as he rubbed his head. There goes my freakin’ alignment!

Paul looked a few hundred feet ahead and spotted someone walking in the center of the road. The individual appeared to be walking directly toward him. He hammered his palm on the horn and shouted, Move the hell over you dumb bastard!! You blind or what?

As he closed in on the person, he slowed down somewhat and saw what could have been a woman. She was wearing a long, dark dress that covered both ankles and arms. Her black, stringy and knotted hair ran limply to her waist. The two black dots on either side of her nose looked more like high gloss marbles than human eyes.

He expected her to move to the shoulder of the road and yield to his truck. She didn’t oblige and continued walking leisurely toward his truck, like she had just stepped out the front door to fetch the newspaper. He swerved to his right at the last minute, narrowly missing her. In the process, he nailed another rut and sent a massive wall of red muck sailing directly at the woman. He watched the rising wall of sludge in his rearview mirror as he turned and followed the bend in the road. Once around the bend, he looked in his mirror again. The woman was no longer in view. Paul knew that there was no time for the woman to avoid the watery onslaught and it brought a mean smile to his face. He laughed heartily and shouted, Shower time, bitch!!

What he didn’t see…what he couldn’t see, was what happened next. The lethargic looking woman spun around like a tightly wound spring that had just snapped and in a deep, nearly masculine voice, yelled, RAD NEFI SABRAM!! Every drop of water and every ounce of mud shifted course and landed many feet from the woman. She didn’t bother to watch where it landed. She turned and resumed her journey, like she had just swatted a fly from her shoulder and nothing more.

Paul’s thoughts shifted to the woman’s garb. He was confused by her choice of wardrobe. No one in their right mind would or at least should, be wearing clothes like that in the crippling heat and humidity they were experiencing. Anyone dressed like that would surely feel like a steamed hotdog at the least. She didn’t seem to be sweating and certainly didn’t have the flushed, red face of someone about to collapse from heat exhaustion. It puzzled him why she was dressed the way she was and it puzzled him why she was even on that road. In all the years he’d driven that road, he’d only seen one person in the area and that was a hunter off in a field. There weren’t any houses on that road, save the old abandoned farmhouse. It had been empty for so long, locals weren’t even sure who owned it. Area teens had occasionally used it for beer parties and sexual explorations. They moved on to new, more inviting locations, leaving an array of empty beer cans, bottles and used condoms. Over time it became a condo for raccoons and field mice. If you were just driving by, you could barely tell there was a house there at all.

He was surprised when he drove by the old house to see the windows and front door restored. The rest of the house was still blanketed in the lush, thriving kudzu and gave the appearance of a green cave with windows. A narrow path, not more than a foot wide, led to the front door. He was driving by too fast to discern any other details.

The muddy road served its purpose and brought Paul to within a few miles of his apartment. He doubled the speed limit for the remaining distance and entered his parking lot like a professional race car driver coming in for a pit stop. He parked his truck and cringed with frustration and anger when he saw the muddy, red streaks adorning his beautiful new vehicle.

He ran to his ground floor apartment, unlocked the door and saw Kevin pacing wall to wall. He appeared to be engaged in a frantic conversation with someone on the other end of his cell phone.

Hey, Kev, what’s up? asked Paul in a somewhat winded voice.

Kevin made some comment to the person on the other end and slapped the phone shut. Man, where the hell have you been?

After the party last night, I was too messed-up to drive, so I got a motel room and crashed there. I didn’t leave a wake-up call and overslept. Then I got caught in traffic on the way home. Chill, man, we’ve still got thirty minutes, replied Paul.

I hope you realize it’s going to take fifteen minutes to get to the church and you’ve still got to get changed. Patricia’s pissed as hell and wants a major chunk of both our asses.

She’ll get over it, claimed Paul.

Paul removed his outer clothing hastily, donned a white dress shirt, snap-on bow tie, tuxedo and high gloss, black, dress shoes.

Let’s go, asshole, said Kevin as he tugged on Paul’s arm. I’m driving.

Have you seen LJ yet? asked Paul.

He was here for about an hour. We called every place we could think of trying to find you. He finally went over to the church just before you got home, replied Kevin as the two got into his vintage, Mustang convertible and drove off.