Hell's Roundabout. Benjamin Vance
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Roundabout? Just let ‘em think it and keep your opinions to yourself. Keep track of your research and keep your notes in a safe place, no matter how scientific they are. There’re always people around who’ll try to discredit you, to their benefit.”
“Damn Sheriff, I don’t know how to thank you. I was getting a little suspicious of my own sanity, you know. I’ll take your suggestions to heart.”
“Now you know how I’ve felt all these years. Take care, Army. See you Monday, hopefully not before.”
6.
Monday morning was slow. Army served two subpoenas and gave one warning ticket the entire morning. Most of his morning was spent as a traffic slowing dummy on highway 395 south. He had time to make written and mental notes though. He wondered at the speed and momentum of things getting transported through the Earth or air and what velocity it would take to completely explode a car or bury tons of mining equipment in bedrock. Of course, given the size of our Earth and its strange propensities, moving 200 tons of mining equipment in the blink of an eye would be less than swatting a gnat. Tornados are made from air and they can dismantle a semi- tractor like it was opened with a can opener.
Early evening found Army and Charley in the library; Charley doing his homework and Army researching accidents. He started with newspaper articles on the library computer retrieval system and quickly found it was incomplete or improperly compiled. He asked about actual articles and realized he would never find what he was looking for if he couldn’t be more focused in his research. Just as he was medulla-deep in thought again, his cell vibrated. It was a New York area code and his hopes were confirmed after he softly said, “Hello”.
“Hi Army it’s Chiara. I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Sorry I didn’t call you yesterday, but I was gone all day.”
“No problem Chiara, It’s good to hear your voice.” He grinned as he asked, “How’s the weather?”
She caught on and said, “Sunny and warm … at least for here. How is it in sunny California?”
“Oh it’s a little cool, but otherwise sunny for here too.”
He heard her giggle a little and it sounded good for some reason. She got to the point quickly and said, “Since we talked to Mr. Anderson, several people have approached me at the craft shop and let me know there’s always been a mystery associated with the mine. One very old lady told me people have disappeared from around the mine for ages. She even heard about a wagon losing all its metal parts in a freak storm. She said the wagon was torn to pieces and only the wood remained. They never found the teamster or two of the horses either. She said it was like something just cut four horses loose and let them roam. She gave me three instances other than that one. She claimed people just didn’t want to know about it and they call Mr. Anderson senile because he tells everyone.”
Army responded, “Chiara, maybe he tells those stories to help him justify his job or something. I can understand that an old caretaker would get caught up in those tales and perhaps justify his disappearance if he came up missing one day, I don’t know.”
“Well, I just wanted you to know that Mr. Anderson may not be as crazy as people would like us to believe. Maybe people just don’t want to accept that stuff themselves, or don’t want to believe it could happen to them. That’s probably why very few locals go to the place. Superstition is a powerful thing.”
“Funny, I just had that discussion with my boss on Saturday. We found some really strange things on my end of the puzzle and he basically asked me to keep it quiet; in a good way though. He’s had his suspicions for years, but was hesitant to say anything for fear of being ridiculed. He’s the Sheriff of the county and this story is becoming tantamount to an alien abduction story, so I can see his point.”
They talked about what Army and the crew found on Saturday and for some reason he left out the part about Lucy and Sonora going. He told her about the burned hand and about the tires still in the face of the cliff and he heard her sniff. Realizing she almost knew for certain the hand belonged to a friend of hers he said, “Chiara we may be dealing with a time aspect here too. The Sheriff told me a huge pile of mining equipment buried itself in the road near our subject hill, but he said it happened 17 years ago. The mining equipment from your mine disappeared what, about 50 or 60 years ago? So, the car and body parts may not be Mrs. Peterson at all. It may be someone from another part of the state or another time.”
“Fat chance, but thanks for telling me that anyway. I just know she’s gone Army, I feel it. I get those feelings sometimes; always have; scares me some too. Maybe I spend too much time in my own company. Listen, I’ve bored you enough, just thought I’d tell you the rumors out here. Keep warm and remember all us poor New Yorkers back here in the cold.”
“I’ll only remember one New Yorker Chiara, and if you find out anything else, please call. I’m doing research right now in the library. Bye, and thanks again for calling.”
He hoped the comment about remembering only her wouldn’t put her off; for some reason he didn’t want to get on her bad side. He could actually imagine her face while she was talking to him. He thought that was a little strange, but he didn’t think it strange that a car could travel through solid rock in the blink of an eye? He just shook his head at his own wacky reasoning.
His research at the library was getting him nowhere so he resolved to investigate more thoughtfully. The next day he called the local newspaper and asked someone in the editor’s office if they had a research department. Of course they did and it was all computerized and he was put on a list for access. When he told the lady he was from the Sheriff’s office she told him to come in anytime in uniform and he’d get access. The next evening he did just that and settled behind one of three 72-inch screens and typed in various prompts until he got the right response. He thought it odd how topical headings and prompts varied from archive to archive.
He read three articles about accidents at the intersection of County Road 19 and State Highway 133. Two of them were common “minor injuries received” accidents, but one was a multiple death accident involving two cars. One car and its occupants were burned beyond recognition. The accident occurred prior to the era of DNA analysis, so the identity of the occupants was based on dental records from retrieved jawbones and a surviving license plate. The officer in charge at the scene told the reporter that the weather was a factor in the accident. Army wrote down the time and date so he could check weather data and Sheriff’s reports.
Charley called his father and asked if they were going to eat supper. He looked at his watch and found it was 8:30 p.m. He apologized to Charley and left immediately thanking the archivist profusely. It had taken two and one half hours to retrieve and thoroughly read three accident reports, and he had thirty more years to cover. It looked like some more weekend work was definitely in store.
When Larry asked Army if he and Charley wanted to go fishing Saturday he knew he dare not decline lest someone find out about his research project and pass it to Larry. Larry had a small Boston Whaler which Army loved, but was not about to replicate on his own dime. Knowing how much Charley liked to go out with him and especially talk to Marlene, who went on several of Larry’s boat trips, as long as someone else went along, Army accepted.
They had a fun trip, and finished at noon with a live well full of seven big Crappie and two trout. Of course Larry got to keep the trout, because although he’d not caught a single one, Army couldn’t stand his whining when he couldn’t keep some. Since Marlene caught a nice one too Army was glad to be fair and let Larry do all the cleaning to impress Marlene. Army and Charley got home about 2:00 p.m., thankfully without any fish to freeze, and Army explained to his son that he had some research to do at the newspaper. He invited Charley to go if he wanted, but based on the one late research night during the past week, Charley opted out and stayed home.
Army arrived at the archives about 3:00 p.m., and started where he’d left off. A bored young female archivist came over to ask if he needed any help. Initially, he thanked her and told her no; reconsidered later and asked her if she could take some dates and look for accidents with fatalities west of town. She turned