It was time to come clean. I felt close to Deloy, so I said, “Yeah, Gideon found several bodies out at his open mine pit. Some have been identified and the first wives have come forward to claim them. We still have two decrepit rotting guys with no ID.”
Deloy’s face went utterly still, like a statue. “Oh, God. Could be anyone, really. So many have vanished.”
“One is a teenager, we think, who has been in the ground for about five years.” Deloy left Cornucopia five years ago. I knew he might give us a clue as to the kid’s identity, but I would never make him look at something that frightening. It was bad enough Gideon, Dust Bunny and I had to. The guy was decomposed beyond IDing, anyway. We’d have to DNA him.
“Oh, God. I didn’t know they sent kids to spirit prison. Just older guys.” Spirit prison was an in-between place between heaven and hell where dead people went who had been ignorant of the gospel.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not joining. It’s not for you, but I know you want a sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself.”
“I do,” Deloy said despondently. “But going to dental school will just have to do. And hanging around The High Dive with the guys.” He loved petting Lazarus. The enormous fluffy dog sat right smack in front of Deloy, ready for pets. That dog was spoiled, and I didn’t care.
“That’s good. You’re on the right side of this community, anyway. Remember how great it is to not be with the fundies. To have freedom of choice and will. Excuse me?”
Some guy with a clipboard had appeared in the doorway. He must’ve been chewing on breath mints because a minty cloud seemed to emanate from his head. “Yeah, I’m looking for Levon Rockwell.”
I stood. “That’s me.”
He shook my hand. “I’m Hyrum Shumway, building inspector for the Town of Avalanche.”
Dread and doom started eating at my stomach. No one ever wanted the building inspector, but it was inevitable that he would come, like death and taxes.
Shumway cut right to the chase. “Listen, I haven’t even begun to go down my checklist for this building. When it was an antique store there were a lot of structural issues I’m not sure were ever addressed.”
“Well, you’re free to look around. I had an independent contractor, a structural engineer, come in and assess the place. He found nothing big other than some dry rot which I addressed by ripping it out and replacing it.”
“I saw that,” said Shumway. “The big issue is, we’ve already issued too many business licenses for this year. A lot of your buddies took up most of them with their butcher shop, coffee shop, barber. Not to mention, you’ll need an additional special license because you’re an occult art practitioner.”
My mind was blank. “What?” was all I could think of to say.
“Occult art?” echoed Deloy.
“Yeah. Whatever this Krav Maga business is, it’s going to need to go before the Town Council before being approved. And in the history of Avalanche we’ve never once approved a license for an occult art. It’s just not the sort of thing we want to promote in the wholesome atmosphere of Avalanche.”
I found my tongue. “So you’re saying that even if my studio passes inspection, I might not get a business license because I’m an occult art practitioner?”
Shumway responded, “That’s what I’m saying. What a beautiful dog.”
Deloy and I shared distressed looks as the inspector bent to pet Lazarus. Lazarus knew no boundaries between friend and family and moronic fucktards who meant us harm. He tilted his massive head toward Shumway and half-closed his eyes as the douchecanoe scratched behind his ears.
“That’s insane,” I told Shumway. “Krav Maga is a self-defense art developed for the Israeli Defense Forces. It’s hardly anything mystical. It takes principles from judo, from boxing and wrestling. We award belts like the judo ranking system. Do you call judo occult?”
“We don’t even meditate or do yoga,” said Deloy.
“If it’s from the Orient, it’s occult,” said Shumway, standing tall again with his clipboard. “Meanwhile, I’m not going to bother with these checklists. I wouldn’t expect a January fourth grand opening if I was you.” And he sauntered out.
Deloy was open-mouthed with shock. “That’s crazy, Levon. They’re out to get you, just like you said they’d be.”
I was already speedily texting.
Gideon. Need to talk ASAP.
Hey Levon. I’m at the mine. Come on up.
Be there in fifteen.
Since the sidecar was still hooked up, I decided to give Lazarus a little ride out of town. He didn’t need a leash to walk the short distance to the small back parking lot. He just followed me naturally. I used a leash on busy streets in case he saw a cat and dashed across the road. It was when I turned to pat the sidecar, indicating he should jump in, that I noticed him swaying on his feet.
My heart thudded. Falling to my knees, I saw his tongue lolling from his mouth in an unnatural way. He panted, so I immediately felt under his thick undercoat for a heartbeat. Too fast. I got him belted into the sidecar, but just barely.