Hell's Roundabout. Benjamin Vance
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to time before sunrise he thought he caught a glimpse of green, or perhaps it was just his residual imagination or anticipation working overtime.
Two Sheriff’s vehicles arrived about 6:00 a.m. with their retinue of deputies, coffee cups and doughnuts. Larry parked close and wandered over with another younger deputy to say good morning and ask how things went during the night. Soon after they arrived, the Coroner’s van rolled in and the folks began laying out their body bags and gurneys to collect more parts. Army could tell no one was in a hurry to start the gruesome task again, but with the dim light of morning, not a lot could be seen or differentiated among the mess anyway. He was just glad the temperature dipped to freezing during the night so things could be retrieved without the smells associated with summer accident remains. He powered down the electric window as Larry walked up.
With a genuine smile Larry said, “Hey Brave heart; have any trouble last night?”
“Naw; just a nice light show on the hillside. You should’a’ been here, it was spectacular and kept me entertained almost all night.”
“Yeah, I stopped to shoot the shit with Marlene and she told me you said there were lights on the hillside. People have been seeing ‘em for years, but there’s a lot of superstition tied in with them so most people just stay away or don’t talk about ‘em much. I think the legends really stem from the Paiute Indians. They say evil spirits live in the hillside so people try to pay the lights no mind.”
“All I found was a badger. You should have seen the lights Larry; every color and combination of green, blue and red. I checked it out through the night vision scope thinking it was maybe some kids playing around, but they were twice as bright through the scope. There must be every wave of light in the electromagnetic spectrum. Has anyone ever done a survey up here to see what causes the lights?”
Larry looked at him like he’d bitten the head off a rat, “What the hell for? There’s a lot more to do around here than chase lights.”
“Like what; eating doughnuts and fishing in Anderson’s trout pond?”
“Like talking to Marlene for instance or takin’ her out to eat or to a movie sometime. Why don’t you show some interest in some of the beautiful women around here. That waitress over at Louise’s Restaurant is really pretty and smart and about your age, and I saw her hittin’ on you that time.”
Armond responded, “I’m still too raw Larry, and trying to raise a kid who’s turning 12. Speaking of kids I’d better get home and rescue him from Lucy. You need the SUV today? I can have Marlene run me home and give me a shower while she’s there if you like.”
Larry smiled and pushed on Army’s shoulder good heartedly, “You jackass, you better stay away from Marlene, she’s mine … I hope ... someday. No dates and no showers; you hear me? No, we don’t need the SUV today. You can take it home and take Charley to school and get some sleep. Call me when you get up and I’ll tell you what else we’ve found in this mess. I’m gonna get the fire department up here and wash this place down after we’re through today. Like I said, it gives me the creeps.”
Armond took the short way home to their two bedroom apartment and found Lucy still asleep on the couch, the television on and Charley in the bathroom. He knocked lightly on the door to let Charley know he was home and went to his bedroom to remove his deputy’s gear. When he came out, Charley was out of the bathroom, gave him a big hug and asked if he got scared at the accident site, obviously wanting to know more. Of course it was an accident site and young boys wanted to know all about that stuff, until they were in the middle of it. Before he answered any questions he had to have some coffee and breakfast. He started on the eggs and remembered Lucy on the couch. He told Charley to wake her up, and damned if she didn’t go walking into the bathroom in panties and an undershirt.
She was a cute little nymph, but it pissed him off and he yelled at her through the door, “Lucy you wear clothes around this house, you hear. You run around in your undies again and I’ll tell your mom about it.”
He heard her faintly mumble something from the bathroom. She came out in a few minutes dressed the same way, but hurried into the living room to retrieve her other clothes. She soon came into the kitchen seemingly proud of herself, but dressed in appropriate winter clothes.
Army asked, “Hi sweetie, you want some breakfast?”
Lucy said, “Sorry Mr. Lennox, that’s just the way I sleep, mostly. I thought I’d be up sooner, but the sun comes up late now, so … .”
He smiled at her and asked, “What do you want for breakfast; eggs, bacon, toast … what?”
Charley came into the kitchen to ask for eggs and he and Lucy greeted each other with small talk about school and other kids and the upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. Army scrambled six eggs and many bacon strips in the skillet and wondered about the lights on the hill, in the canyon.
After dropping off Charley at school he stopped by the office to speak to Beth, a day-duty dispatcher, to see if Larry had called in about anything specific. She said the deputies retrieved two license plates; one from New York and one from California and the numbers would be on Larry’s desk. He stuck his head into the Sheriff’s office to say hello, but Andy wasn’t in yet so he inspected Larry’s desk for the license plate numbers. He found them beside a small stack of message notes from Marlene and sat down at a computer console to determine who the unfortunate owners were.
The California license plate was registered to a Ford Mustang owned by Mr. Art Davis of Sacramento, California and was current. The New York License plate was registered to a Toyota Prius owned by a Mrs. Lois Peterson of Star Lake, New York. Registration stickers were currently attached to the windshields in New York so until someone found the windshield from the Prius it was impossible to determine validity. Still not able to get the canyon lights out of his mind, he bid Beth good morning and headed for home and the apartment’s peace and quiet, to get some sleep.
After he showered and put on the pajama bottoms his late wife gave him for Christmas many years earlier, he lay down to dream about her, but when he closed his eyes all he could see were the flashing canyon lights. He knew he would never get to sleep wondering about the lights, especially if that infernal ringing kept up. Finally, his foggy brain realized with chagrin the ringing was his alarm and it was 3:00 p.m.; time to get up and start a new shift at 5:00 p.m. if he was needed. Before he got dressed he called the dispatcher and asked her to radio Larry and ask him to call when it was convenient.
About 10 minutes later his cell rattled; it was Larry. After courtesies, Larry briefed him on what else had been found with regard to the vehicles and the people who died in them. The deputies, helpers and the coroner’s office had determined there were at least two people involved, and one did have a dog in the car at the time of the accident. A stainless steel Rabies vaccination tag had been found, issued in St. Lawrence County, New York. Two license plates had been found, the New York plate charred but readable.
Army told him about the owners and that he’d left the names and addresses on Larry’s desk. Larry asked if Army could follow up since someone would have to get the Sheriff all the pertinent data before close of business so Andy could contact next of kin. Larry had to wait at the site for the fire department to wash the site down so the road could be reopened before 6:00 p.m., but he told Army to take the night off. Such was the most current and superficial data regarding the remains of two humans, one unfortunate dog and two well built vehicles, all somehow turned into unorganized matter which appeared to have been run through a tree limb shredder.
2.
Accident sites like the canyon roundabout, stick in the human soul and haunt us. Not because of what we see but perhaps because of what we have not seen. It’s believed that if we see an accident happen we can rationalize it to our own advantage over the ensuing days, months or years and move it to the absolute rear of our consciousness. If we only see the grisly aftermath, it’s difficult to fantasize what we would have done to prevent the tragedy and therefore also impossible to imagine we would have ever let it happen. Seeing an accident happen and not being involved, perhaps helps us feel safely detached,