Dastardly Bastard(10)

“I’m fine. I just had a moment. All good now.” It was a little white lie, nothing that would hurt anyone. She stuffed her dirty clothes into her duffel bag, then zipped it and threw it over her shoulder.

“Ready?” Trevor asked.

“When you are.”

“I just hope this tour of Waverly Chasm is all it’s cracked up to be.”

She agreed, but no matter what, the tour would be a welcome distraction from what had just happened to her. Quietly, Justine prayed that Nana Penance didn’t make any more appearances.





5


“FROM THE LOWEST CLIFF OF Waverly Chasm, you can look down and never see the bottom. Some say it’s over a mile deep, but that cannot be confirmed, as no one has ever been to the bottom.”

Jaleel Warner waited for the questions, the normal inquiries of why no one had ever bothered going down, but they never came.

“The chasm opens up three hundred yards from here and stretches for another two miles in length. At its widest, it is seventy yards across. The road you guys came in on, Highway 607, runs east to west from Chestnut to Bay’s End. Waverly Chasm, on the other hand, runs north to south. If you were to look at this area on a satellite image, it looks like one big T, with Highway 607 the cross bar, and Waverly Chasm the stem. Any questions?”

The morbidly obese man with the expensive camera slung around his neck was already sweating as he dug through a bag of Doritos. The cool fall breeze didn’t seem to help the perspiring man in the least. The name badge on the man’s left breast read “Mark.” Jaleel figured that was an easy enough name to remember and skipped onto the mother and son.

Her name was Marsha, the boy’s, Lyle. The mother was attractive, possibly in her late thirties, early forties, with strawberry-blond hair and high cheekbones. Jaleel wondered if she’d been a model. Lyle looked about twelve or thirteen. When the two had first arrived, Lyle had been playing on a cell phone, working diligently on what Jaleel could only guess was a game of some sort.

“Mr. Warner?” Lyle asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels.

“Call me Jaleel. We like to keep things on a first name basis.”

“Anybody ever die out here?”

Jaleel thought for a moment. Sure, there had been accidents, but Jaleel wondered if the group really needed to know that. Sometimes, he could find the thrill seekers in the bunch. Dropping little hints to amp up the danger aspect of the trail served the entertainment factor well. The current crowd was different. They were a somber bunch, almost morose. In the end, he decided they wouldn’t appreciate the information.

“Not that I know of,” Jaleel responded.

“Where do we start?” That question came from the back of the group, and at first, Jaleel couldn’t tell who’d asked it.

Marsha and Lyle parted to show a little person standing behind them. The man was just over three feet tall with an auburn beard. His nametag read “Donald.” It occurred to Jaleel that the little guy was going to have a hard time keeping up with the group. The man’s clothes looked formal and much too hot for a hiking tour. That sport coat was coming off before the trip was over, Jaleel thought before answering Donald’s question.

“We’ll start at Fairchild Lookout, sponsored by Righteous Cola.” Jaleel didn’t like mentioning the endorsement, but the job required it. A necessary evil, one might say. That past summer, a fellow guide had been laid off when a representative—hired by Righteous for that sole purpose—reported that he had not been made aware of who sponsored the viewing station at the highest cliff of Waverly Chasm. Terrified that Righteous Cola would pull their support, the higher-ups at Pointvilla Department of Parks and Recreation had fired the man without even a warning. Jaleel figured he liked selling out more than he liked the unemployment line.

“From there, you can see everywhere we will be heading over the next six hours.”

“Six hours?” Mark scoffed. He licked the neon-orange chip flavoring from his fingers before adding, “Knew I should have brought more food.”

“It’s better that you didn’t,” Jaleel said. “It’s a long hike there and back, and it’s best if you don’t have to carry too much.”

“Least I brought the Nikon.” Mark raised the camera for everyone to see. “Should keep my mind off snacking.”

“You sure no one has died out here?” Lyle asked again.

“Lyle, please,” the boy’s mother said. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to talk about things like that, even if they did happen.”

“But he asked if we had any questions.”

“Lyle.” Her voice grew sterner. “That’s enough.”

“Sheesh… wreck me already.” Lyle pulled his phone from his pocket, fiddling with it again.

Probably texting, Jaleel thought. Fucking kids. Jaleel let his id fuss all it wanted. His inner thoughts kept him polite, personable.

“I’m sorry, Jaleel,” the mother said. “Please continue.”

“It’s quite all right, Marsha.” Jaleel smiled. “Let the boy ask his questions. Curiosity is a part of growing up.”

Lyle beamed at his mother as if to say, “Told you so,” before giving Jaleel a wink.

Get the kid to like you, and the mother will follow, Jaleel thought.