Weekly Drabble #270: Sundown (Patreon)

Today's drabble prompts are 'small town, big universe' from Xpholia and 'not the sharpest knife' from Pethrai D'arkos, wherein a lost driver encounters both of those things... and a rather talkative local. Enjoy!

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Sundown:

Welcome, stranger. Sorry about the greeting back there. Henry... bless his heart. Henry’s a good lad, but thick as a box of bricks and it takes a while for lessons to trickle all the way through that noggin of his. His Pa’s a decent man, but since Emmi died, he ain’t been there for the boy like he should and Henry, well... Well, you don’t need to know about all of that. Henry’ll get the message, though. You be sure of that.

He and his friends didn’t hurt you none, did they? Just some scuffs, that’s good. I s’pose it’s good to get the blood pumpin’ now and then, but not like that, I’m sure. Again, my apologies for the greeting. We don’t get many folks passing through these parts, especially not folks looking like you.

Hmm? No, no. We’re just an insular folk, you understand. Not one o’ them ‘sundown towns’ or nothin’. Leastwise, not as you might be thinkin’. Any strangers here get a side-eye, and not to put too fine a point on it, friend, but lookin’ like that, you’re a little stranger than most.

Still, the boys shouldn’t have oughta acted that way. Sun’s still high and we ain’t yet got call to be inhospitable. You got took a few wrong turns, didn’t you? The interstate’s not too far from here. Last visitor we had, she said the googles sent her here by mistake. That happen to you? Yeah, that’s what I reckoned. Well, come on – you look like you could use a drink and some time to catch your breath.

The bar’s right up this way. Been here probably longer than anytwheres else in town. Some like to joke it sprung fully-formed from the Earth, like a mouse from the dirt. Hmm? Oh, that’s a little spontaneous generation joke there. Theory always seemed a little out there to me, but people believed it right up until they didn’t. Ah, you don’t want to hear an old country boy ramble on about that. We need to get you a drink.

This here’s Macey. Her father used to own the place before some unkind folk... well, that’s a long, sad story you don’t need to hear. Macey, this boy’s from out of town. Henry and his friends got a little too rough, thinkin’ he might be unkind. Give us a couple menus and pour him something stiff; it’ll be on me. Thanks, doll. Have you seen Cal about? Lookin’ to have a chat with him about his boy. Well, I suppose he’ll be in later, then. Henry needs a talking-to and maybe a whoopin’ if it’ll get the lesson to sink through the cement he’s got stashed up in his head. If Cal does come in, you tell him I’m lookin’ for him, will you? Thanks, love.

Come right over here. Best booth in the place. Macey, I’ll have the usual. The boy here – why don’t you start with the ribeye? Somethin’ hearty to go with that whiskey. Ol’ George in the back there – he’s a mean one, but he practically makes love to that stove and damn if the meals that come outta here won’t blow the back o’ your head off. Right, that’s a usual and a ribeye steak platter.

While we’re waitin’, I s’pose I should share a little bit more about why Henry and his friends were all up in your face. Like I said, it ain’t the reason you’re probably thinkin’ it is.

Our town looks a little rough, and it is, but we ain’t had an easy run of it the last couple generations. Hell, we ain’t had a good start. Don’t s’pose you know any of the history about this area? No? There was an Indian tribe here. Don’t know the name, don’t think anyone does no more. Settlers wiped ‘em out right to the last, so they say.

Hmm? Now there’s an educated city boy’s opinion if’n I ever heard one. You think that all them Indians were living in harmony with each other and the land a’fore the big, bad white man showed up? Comanche were slavers, sons. The Apache – that name means ‘enemy’ in quite a few different Indian tongues. But we don’t need to go into all that. These folks – they were a splinter from the Navajo. You know anything about them?

No? Then let me give you a quick little pointer. Quickest way to get a Navajo to clam up is to ask them anything about skinwalkers. Evil men and women, they say. Medicine men who’ve performed dark rituals or eaten human flesh. They can change shape and prey on ordinary folks. Even take over their bodies, but you won’t hear much more from the Navajo themselves. The tribe that camped this land... legend says they were descendants of the Navajo, banished from the tribe for following a darker path. Why they got onto that road, no one actually knows.

Some say it was because of all the white folks comin’ onto their land. They needed the power to stop the invaders and turned to witchcraft for it. The other Navajo, bein’ short-sighted fools, turned their backs on their kin and drove ‘em out. This was where they settled, leaving their cousins to their fate and we know how that turned out for the rest o’ the Navajo, don’t we?

But like the tide, the settlers just kept pushing in and pushing in. They eventually found this place and the tribe living here. They mistook ‘em for just another batch of redskins at first. Story gets a little different here. One way, it’s the settlers who didn’t want to share any land with some savages and they started the slaughter. Second way, the tribe didn’t want any white devils here and went to wipe them out. Last ways, the settlers didn’t much care about the tribe, but the settlers had a Navajo guide and he not only figured out who the other Indians were, but he had a big damn mouth to boot.

No matter how it started, when the dust settled, there wasn’t a one of the tribe left alive and more’n half of the settlers were in graves of their own. The survivors made sure the Indians were buried good and deep, but even then that wasn’t deep enough. Maybe they missed a few, maybe some of the dead clawed their way up through six feet of dirt or maybe we’re somewhere the Almighty’s turned a blind eye to, but ever since that day, this place has been cursed.

I ain’t talking about things that go bump and boo like Halloween stories, neither. I’m talking about things that don’t move like animals or men ought, of unkind men and women who ain’t even close to human. About guests that leave their’s hosts’ homes stained red, lost children in the woods that aren’t looking for their momma, but their next meal. That kind of cursed, young fella.

Leastways, that’s what the legends say. And sure enough every man or woman in this town could tell you a story about unkind folk if you asked, but skinwalkers? Haunting this land since colonial times? Well. It’s just a legend, ain’t it. Still, things have happened, things that none o’ can quite explain...

Boys like Henry and the rest of your welcomin’ committee grew up hearing all’a those tales, and they know to be extra cautious about anyone new coming to town, especially when the sun starts getting low. That puts the boys on edge. Not excusing them, just trying’ to explain what went down. Skinwalkers can’t always hide what they are, and sometimes at night, you can see the truth.

I guess that’s what makes us a sundown town of our own, hey? When the sun goes down, we don’t want nobody coming to visit – black, white, red, man or woman, ‘cause there’s a better’n even chance that they ain’t what they appear.

Ah, here’s the food. Bless you and Ol’ George both, Macey. Looks better every time I come here. Mmmm, smell that pork. She’s a tasty one, this sow. No sense of direction and never did know what was best for her, but damn if she ain’t a little slice of heaven on the tongue. How’s your steak, son? Good? That’s what I thought. The farmers here know how to raise meat the right way, and there’s always plenty of game for anyone who wants something a little special.

Just let Macey take your plate when you’re done with it, son. Thanks, love. You’re a peach.

Hmm? Now, now son – I said this meal’d be on me, and I’m a man of my word. I’d ask you to stay for desert, but it looks like sunset’s a-coming and you look like you got places to be. Let’s get you back to your car. If you can stand the company of this old-timer a while longer, I’ll walk you there just to make sure there aren’t any more problems.

Glad you enjoyed the meal. I’ll let Ol’ George know he’s still got it. I’d say you could tell him yourself, but that cranky old bastard’d probably ruin whatever goodwill I’ve been tryin’ to build up. We’re good folk overall, but we just don’t need much to do with the outside world and that suits us just fine.

I didn’t tell you, but there’s another way that that story ended. Instead of the Indians gettin’ wiped out, it was the settlers. Most of ‘em were killed, but the tribe wasn’t in the best way, neither. They knew that more ‘n likely, if the settlers disappeared, then someone else could be coming along and this time, they might not survive. So they did what they did, takin’ new shapes and taking over the bodies of the white folk who were left. The tribe died that day, but they still lived on, see? Built themselves this town, well off the beaten path where they can live without havin’ to fight the tide.

Sometimes, though. Sometimes they get visitors. Most’d be like you, I guess. Getting lost and just needing to be sent on their way with no problems. Sometimes, though. Sometimes the guests are unkind. Too nosy and poking in places they shouldn’t, chasing down a trail of breadcrumbs. Sometimes even these folks are Navajo, gettin’ in it their heads to finish what their ancestors started all those years ago, ‘cause they can’t let evil fester and all that bullshit.

Lot of reason unkind folks might happen along and when they do, well then you might expect a town o’ skinwalkers might have some reason to keep their presence secret. Yeah, I can see you do. Ah, here’s your car. Let me get that door for you.

Now, you just need t’ head back the way you came. Never mind any turns until you come to the fork in the road with the dead tree. Then, take the left. Keep on that, and you’ll hit signs that’ll get you back to the rest of civilization well before sunset. Never can tell what happens in these parts at night. It was good t’ meet you, and you have yourself a safe little trip now, you hear?

Just be careful next time you leave the freeway. Never know where you might end up.