Opals & Rubies

By E.B. Loan

Tommy McClure, the nastiest man in Sevierville, is dying. No one denies it, especially his dead daddy, Big Ray, a renegade soul recently escaped from the blackness of The In Between. He gives Tommy an ultimatum--change his miserable ways or earn himself a ticket straight to Hell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781597054478

Book preview

Dedication

For T.K. Loan—just because.

And to Wings—for teaching me to soar.

One

First of October

Tommy McClure woke up, his bones stiff, in the recliner. No matter how hard he tried, he never made it to the bed he shared with his wife, Ruby. She used to come and look for him, make an attempt to pull his dead weight up and walk him into their room. Now, she just let him be.

Reaching for the side table, he grabbed his glasses. Putting them on, he squinted to look at the clock on top of the TV. Two-thirty. Too early to get up, but too late for him to go back to sleep. His only hope of returning to slumber happened if he woke before one. He rubbed his cheeks and stretched. He was dying. The doctor hadn’t wanted to say it, but he knew it was true. A body could only take so much torture before it headed out to pasture, and he had beaten himself into the ground for the last forty-five years. Every part of him hurt, his limbs went numb from time to time, and lately he noticed the change in his vision.

He was seeing things out of the corner of his eye. Just a blip—a tiny flutter of motion that disappeared when he turned his head to get a good look at it. It didn’t help that one eye was beginning to shift off to the side. It wasn’t the first thing people noticed about him, but it certainly wasn’t the last. Doc Owens had given him some glasses last year to help stop the slide, but it couldn’t reverse what had already happened, and it only slowed what was coming. He’d told him he was a diabetic too, tried to get him to stick himself with needles. Tommy told him with all due respect he wasn’t sticking anything in his veins unless it made him feel good. He doubted that whatever crap was in Doc Owens needle came close to what he was referring to.

Ruby pretended not to notice the changes. She just kept right on cooking, cleaning, staying out of his way, just like she’d always done. In his deteriorating state he wanted to take her in his arms, tell her he was sorry for all the years of pain, but when he got near her, she scattered away from him like a frightened mouse and he lost interest.

Now he just lived in the recliner—sleeping and taking his meals there. Ruby had her job at the Wal-Mart, and in the face of death, he had a change of heart about letting her get together with the girls for Bunko. She only missed it if he had a really bad day. Even then sometimes she left. He called his brother Baby Ray daily, checking to see if he needed him for a job, but Baby Ray wasn’t stupid. He knew that bringing Tommy was more like taking on a small child than a partner. It was easier just to cut him a monthly check and let it go.

He pulled himself to his feet and shuffled through the narrow living area into the kitchen. The early fall wind rattled the outside of the single wide trailer, and he made a mental note to head into Lowe’s to get some plastic window insulation before the damn stuff was sold out. Last year he’d made the mistake of waiting until late November, and all winter he’d had to go around defrosting the inside of the glass with a hairdryer. He hit the switch, and the overhead light came on, the fluorescence giving the yellow room a sickening green cast. He hated the kitchen. He watched his daddy Big Ray drink himself to death at the Formica table where his mother had baked cookies before the cancer took her. Ruby served his meals on a tray table next to the recliner. He only set foot in this room to get a beer or a glass of water. He walked to the cabinet, grabbed a glass and turned on the water. The pipes sputtered. Another reminder that he needed to get under the trailer and get a good look at the insulation around the pipes. He’d heard Beau Richton’s boy talking about how his pipes had frozen last winter during the cold snap. The entire trailer went dry, except for the toilet, which had blown shit all over the bathroom. Suzy had damn near left Beau over the incident. Roy laughed about how pissed she’d been, taking a broom and chasing Beau around the house when he’d rolled in from Skiddy’s drunker than a skunk.

The water turned out rusty on the first glass. He dumped it out, wishing that the county would get on the ball and get the pipes run so they could tap into the city water supply. He was sick as shit of well water. Satisfied that the second glass was drinkable, he lifted it to his lips to take a sip. His eyes went to the window over the sink. The black of the land around the trailer acted like a curtain, giving him a good view of his own reflection. He had grown scrawny. His hair, although still plentiful, was gray all the way through. That didn’t bother him much. The real problem was his face. It hung off his skeleton in flaps, like a damn bloodhound. Didn’t matter that he’d kicked the drugs. He still had the look of a Tennessee country junkie.

He finished the last swallow and put the glass in the sink for Ruby to wash in the morning. He was just about to turn and head back for the chair when he caught sight of something in the reflection of the glass. At first he thought it was Ruby, up checking on him, but in the next second he knew he was wrong. There was a shape behind him, sitting at the table. It seemed to be a person, gave the impression that it was trying to be a person, but it swirled around like the crazy optical illusions that Ruby liked to look at on the computer. He stood at the sink and watched the shape move and dance. His hands held the edge of the counter tightly. Caught between the adrenaline that found its way into his body and his lack of balance, he was afraid to let go. What in the hell is that thing?

A soft gurgling came from the sink basin. He looked down toward the noise. There was something in the drain. Thick brown goo came bubbling up, but there was something beneath it. He couldn’t see what it was. A snake in the pipes? He turned the water on hot and hit the disposal switch. Whatever was in the drain made a small squealing noise. He heard the blades grinding through something tough. He looked back up into the glass and tried to find the dark image at the table, but it had vanished. Your eyes... playing tricks on you old man.

The sink was empty. He turned off the disposal and tried to slow his breathing. Whatever was wrong with him was going to his brain. Slowly, he was losing his mind right along with his life.

TOMMY WOKE UP NEXT to Ruby. The sight in the window had scared him enough to crawl into bed next to her. She was asleep, soft and warm. It wasn’t long before he forgot the kitchen nightmare and drifted off. His body next to hers had shocked her out of bed an hour before her alarm was set to go off, probably afraid if she stayed any longer he would expect something wifely out of her. She didn’t need to fret. He doubted that his manhood worked any better than any other part of him at this point. He hadn’t had a sexual thought in the last eight months at least. By the time he made his way out to the living room, she’d already finished making his breakfast. It sat on the tray table next to his chair. Already dressed for work, Ruby sat in the kitchen buried behind the newspaper. Her cigarette sent long trails of smoke up, engulfing the room in a fog.

Put that goddamn thing out! he barked. How do you expect me to eat around that shit?

She kept the paper lifted in front of her. He saw one hand grab the cigarette and stamp it out in the plastic ashtray on the table. He immediately regretted snapping at her. She was a decent caretaker, and he needed her more each day that passed. He picked up his food and shuffled into the kitchen. Picking the chair across from her, he sat. Obediently she lowered the paper, folding it and setting it next to her. She watched him, waiting for whatever it was he wanted her to pay attention to.

What a dance we’ve worked ourselves into. He cleared his throat. Bunko tonight?

Probably relieved, she pushed her chair back from the table. Over the years she’d learned that he could be as unpredictable as a copperhead in August. Today there would be no strike.

Yeah, Sue Ann’s turn to host. I’m working a double—your dinner is in the fridge. Ruby moved into the doorframe, the easiest escape to her car. He tried to think of something to say, something that would show her that he had a piece of decency left somewhere inside him. Nothing came to mind. Sarah called this morning. Baby Ray needs your help today.

He nodded, stirring his coffee. She turned to go, grabbing her purse off the rocker. Opening it, she grabbed another cigarette. Tommy, before I forget, something clogged up the sink last night. Her fingers played with the cigarette in her hand. She watched him and waited to see if this would be the next thing to set him off. He just sat there.

Whatever he had seen in the sink last night had been real. The thing in the glass—that was probably just another side effect of whatever the hell was wrong with him, but whatever was crawling up the pipes... well shit, he’d been able to slice and dice it. It couldn’t have been anything too dangerous. He’d take apart the drain and try to figure it out later. Ruby exhaled loud enough that he caught it. His gaze locked on hers, only for a second, and she was out the door.

He choked down the cold eggs. Food was not his friend these days, but he tried like hell to keep enough in him to keep going. If he stopped eating completely he’d be dead in days. Of that he had no doubt. He scraped his food into the garbage and put his plate in the sink. Leaning down, he tried to look into the drain to figure out what the hell he’d killed last night. He strained to see something, anything in the small round hole. Finally he gave up and reached in with his hand.

His fingers hit the slime from all the usual suspects. Potato peels, onion skins, egg shells, nothing out of the ordinary. He’d nearly given up when he hit something hard. It was small, small enough that he had a tough time maneuvering it up the side of the drain and into the light. After several failed attempts he got it through the rim and into the stainless steel.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he picked it up and held it as close to his face as he possibly could. It was a tooth. More of a fang. On the small side, it had had a serrated edge. It reminded him of a miniature tang survival knife. Must be from some kind of a snake or some damn thing.

Shaking his head he looked at it one more time. The water hissing out of the pipes must mean there was a hole. The snake must have crawled in looking to escape the cold. Tommy’d have to crawl his ass under the trailer soon before something else made its way into the pipes and he had a mess like the Richton’s had last winter. You live in these mountains long enough you’re bound to see some pretty interesting shit. He glanced at the clock over the sink: 8:35.

Throwing the tooth in the garbage, he headed to the door. Baby Ray had called him for some reason. Had to be a big job if he wanted Tommy’s help. With any luck, he’d get enough money to buy Ruby something nice for Christmas this year—make up for some of this shit he’d caused her.

TOMMY PULLED INTO RAY’S drive at nine on the button. Ray was already outside gearing up the tanker. He waved Tommy to park on the side of the house out of the way of the main drive. He zipped up his coat and tried to hide how much weight he’d lost since they last worked together. The lined flannel was big enough to add a few pounds to his frame. He stepped out, walking toward the truck.

Tommy! Ray grabbed him in a bear hug. Brother... how you been? Sarah and the kids have been asking about you and Ruby.

Trying to reciprocate, Tommy took in the squeeze. His heart had never been as warm as Ray’s. Not bad, brother, not bad. So what’s this big job we have going on today?

Ray opened the passenger side of the truck and helped him in. He was trying to make it seem normal, but Tommy knew—Ray’d been talking to Ruby. That was the only explanation. Ray ran around, climbing into the driver’s side.

King’s Branch. Overnight rental cabin. He threw it in reverse. I guess the renters clogged the septic and are having a shit fit.

Figures—damn northerners. They never know what the hell to do with wells and septics.

Don’t know, don’t care. All I know is that there is a check at the rental company office with our names on it, including overtime for working on a Sunday.

Dad woulda tanned your hide for running business on a Sunday.

Baby Ray shot him a sideways glance. He had to know Tommy was teasing him. The truth was Big Ray never cared much for church—that had been their mother’s thing. No shit. Well, Dad ain’t here anymore, so I guess that don’t matter much, does it?

Tommy chuckled. For somebody that went to college, your English is for shit.

Look who’s talkin’.

Yeah, but I didn’t spend forty grand going to college.

They drove in silence the rest of the way. The sky had gone gray early this year, although the weatherman promised a warm up. Tommy had a hard time believing it could go from thirty to seventy in October, even in the south. The leaf watchers that had traveled to see the glory of the Tennessee Smokies were pissed off, no doubt.

They hit the cabin before ten. It was one of the newer monstrosities: three levels perched on the edge of the mountain with small concrete blocks as footers to keep it from tumbling down the side into the river. The cars in the drive were the typical city mini SUVs, four-wheel drive with absolutely no need for it ninety percent of the time. Hell, he lived here his whole life and only got a four-wheel drive truck when Big Ray died and left it to him. They got out and searched for the tank cover.

Christ, it better not be down the side of that mountain, he muttered to Ray, watching the faces that appeared in the front windows. ’Cause I’m sure as hell not going down there.

Relax, Tommy. The Comptons built this place. They lived here their whole lives. They wouldn’t be that stupid.

Are you kidding me? Look at those footings! One good rainy summer and this place will be down there in the Little Pigeon River in a blink.

He walked back around the drive to the flat side of the house. In between the brambles he saw the green plastic with a small red flag pinned into the rock next to it. Ray came up behind him, slapping him on the shoulder. What’d I tell ya, brother?

Tommy grunted at him. Go back up the truck. I’m gonna pull off this cap.

Two

Ruby smoked out the window the entire way to work. She hated the Wal-Mart more than she hated anything, well almost anything. Pulling into the lot she saw her mother’s car, windows rolled down—her chewed fingers holding a cigarette with the ash threatening to fall off at any second.

Shit. She muttered, putting the car into park. Aggie sat there, just content to wait for Ruby to come over and acknowledge her. Goddamn bitch... probably out of money again.

Calling Aggie May a mother was a stretch of the imagination in anyone’s book. Calling her a bitch was something that pretty much everybody that’d ever tried to love her did on a regular basis. Stepping out of the car Ruby squared her shoulders and stomped over to the car. What the hell do you want, Aggie?

Aggie put her hand up to shade her eyes. Is that any way to talk to your momma, young lady? She took a drag off her cigarette and lazily exhaled the smoke into the air. How you been, Ruby? Things okay between you and Tommy?

Ruby looked at her watch—almost nine. Her manager would be looking for her any minute. She decided to cut the visit short and get Aggie back to whatever rock she’d crawled out of as quickly as possible. Opening her wallet, she fished out a twenty. Here. She threw it into the car. It’s all I’ve got. It should be enough to get you some booze.

Aggie scooped it up and stuffed it into her bra. "You hurt my feelings, Ruby. Do you think I come over here just to ask for money? You’re my daughter... I care about you."

Ruby rolled her eyes. She got enough shit from Tommy. She didn’t need it from Aggie too. "Okay, Momma. I went to my therapist. He told me that all the times you left me home alone with your abusive boyfriend to go strippin’? Well, I guess that’s the reason I married an abusive addict at sixteen."

Aggie started rolling up the window. Ruby Louise, how dare you talk to me like that? You always were a problem child, never appreciated what you had.

Ruby snorted. Aggie started the old Corolla, and fumes sputtered everywhere. She tore out of the parking lot without a single look back.

Bitch. I hope she drinks too much gin and drives off Birds Creek into a ditch.

THE WAL-MART WAS PACKED. Ruby tried like crazy to keep the lines moving, but no matter how hard she worked, it just never ended. When she first started, she thought she would never get used to the grueling workload. People were constantly calling in sick or quitting, and with Tommy’s failing health,