Devils And Dust. J.D. Rhoades

he seems to sort of go away?”

      She nodded. “Once in a while.”

      He paused. “Violent outbursts?”

      She shook her head. “He’s never raised a hand to me,” she said firmly.

      Berry nodded. “And I don’t expect he ever will. What about other people?”

      She bit her lip. “Well…” she sighed. “Actually, that’s kind of how we met.”

      “Go on.”

      “A couple of bikers were hassling me. Guys from away. Not regulars. A couple of the local guys tried to stand up for me. I grew up around here, and a lot of the regulars are like family. The bikers beat up Glen and Jeff. They tore the phone off the wall. Then they started getting real ugly. Talking about how they were gonna take me across the road and call all their buddies to break me in.”

      “And that,” Berry said, “is probably where Keller stepped in.”

      She nodded. “Yeah. ‘Til then he was just this guy who sat over in the corner. Never said much to anybody, just drank his two beers and left.”

      “But not then.”

      “No, not then. It was like he was a different person. He went flat berserk on those two. If a couple of the guys hadn’t pulled him off, he mighta killed one of ‘em. As it is, they both ended up in the hospital.”

      “They got lucky,” Berry observed.

      She went on as if she hadn’t heard. “But then it was like turning off a switch. Next night, he was back, quiet as ever. He even paid for the chair he broke over the one guy’s head.”

      “And you started seeing each other.”

      “Yeah,” she said. “He started working here. I needed the help. He moved in with me after a few weeks.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I been alone since my daddy died and left me this place. I ain’t apologizin’ to nobody.”

      “I didn’t ask you to.”

      Her defiant stance crumpled. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just…”

      “I know,” Lucas said. “Small town, small minds.”

      “Yeah.” She traced invisible lines on the table with her index finger. “He’s really been through some shit, hasn’t he?” she said quietly.

      Berry nodded. “You can say that.”

      “And that lady across the street,” she said, “is she about to put him through some more?”

      “We don’t really know what happened to our friend. It may be nothing.”

      Jules sighed. “But if he doesn’t go and find out,” she said bitterly, “I’m going to be seeing that damn look in his eyes until I get sick of it and throw him out anyway. That look like he wants to be somewhere else. That look of wondering what he could have done…well fuck that. He wants to go, he can go. What’s the old saying…”

      “If you love something set it free,” Lucas quoted.

      “And if it don’t come back, then fuck it.” Tears started in her eyes. “Goddamn it,” she muttered. “I can’t cry now. I got a business to run.”

      The door opened. Keller stepped in. There was a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He spotted Jules and Lucas sitting together. He walked over.

      “I’m ready,” he said. “Just give me a couple of minutes.”

      “Okay.” Lucas got up and walked to the door. He turned and glanced back. Keller was seated across from Jules, holding her hands in his. She was looking down at the table, but she was nodding her head. Lucas sighed and stepped out into the sunlight. He saw Angela across the road, throwing her bag into the backseat of the Cadillac. He waited for another truck roaring past before crossing the road.

      “I’m leaving,” she said. “You were right. This was a bad idea.”

      “I don’t recall saying it was a bad idea,” Lucas said.

      She slammed the back door. “Well, it was.”

      “Wait a few,” Lucas said. “Keller’s on his way.”

      

      “YOU WANT to go,” Jules said, “then go. You don’t owe me nothin’.”

      “I know, but I want to explain anyway.” He took her hands in his.

      “A few years ago,” Keller said, “I was in a shitload of trouble.” She looked up. He took a deep breath. “I killed a man. It was self-defense, but there was no one around to see that or tell anyone. Except Oscar Sanchez. He didn’t know me from Adam, but he came forward and cleared me. And he took a lot of risks doing it. The brother of the guy I killed called me up and shot Oscar in the kneecap—while I listened—just to show how pissed at me he was.” Keller closed his eyes. He could hear the pop of the gunshot, Oscar’s scream over the phone.

      “Anyway,” Keller said. “I owe him. If he’s in trouble…”

      She sighed. “You have to go. I know.” She smiled sadly. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be the man you are.”

      He took a deep breath. “There’s more.” He looked away from her. “A few months ago, I killed someone else. This time there was no way to call it self-defense. I had him on the ground, unarmed. But he’d tried to kill another friend of mine. And her little boy. I was afraid he’d try again. So I shot him. Then I shot him again. And again.”

      “So?” she said, but her voice shook a little at the look in his eyes. “He was going to kill a little kid? Sounds to me like the sumbitch needed killing.”

      “Probably. Definitely. But Jules, I liked it. I laughed while I was doing it.” He stood up, then shouldered the duffel. “I’m not the man you think I am.” He started walking toward the door.

      “Jack,” she called out. “I know you. You’re not a bad man.”

      He stopped and looked back. He heard a voice in his head, a voice from a man he’d met back on a mountainside in Western North Carolina. A place where Keller had gone willingly into the dark.

      You bring death, the man had said, and hell follows with you.

      “Yeah,” he said, “I am.” He walked out.

      THEY STOOD on either side of the car, watching the door. After a few moments, Keller stepped out, his bag over his shoulder. He crossed the road, head down, watching the ground ahead like a soldier on a long march. He didn’t look up until he got to the car. “Nice ride,” he said.

      “Thanks,” Angela replied.

      “Long ride from the airport to here,” Lucas said. “Figured we might as well be comfortable.” He tossed Keller the keys.

      Keller caught them in the air. He opened the back door and threw his duffel inside. “Let’s go.”

      

      IN THE darkness, it was impossible to tell how long the truck had been on the road. Hours. Maybe days. Ruben fell into a kind of trance, fear and exhaustion turning his mind blank. Finally, the humming of the tires on pavement stopped and the truck was bouncing and jolting over another rough road. Eventually, it stopped. The people crammed inside murmured and stirred. The back door was yanked upward again, and bright light streamed in.

      “Okay, muchachos,” a voice drawled, “ever’body out. Time to see the judge.”

      Slowly,