I Just work for the old lady by Ryan Dee Gilmour

My name is Ernest Caldwell. I live in Asher, Kentucky. I’m of sound body and mind. The only substance I’ve taken in the last 48 hours is methadone. Call Boone County Community Health and they’ll tell you I pissed clean on Tuesday. I’m not high. I’m not strung out. I’m not confused.

I believe my life is about to end. I want my side of the story on the record.

Three months ago, I started doing odd jobs for my cousin Eli Caldwell. Eli is in a cult. I don’t know the name or nature of the cult. I never asked and he never told me nothing. I was raised to mind my own business. Me and my uncles used to tease Eli about the cult thing but about a year ago, he cut us off. No communication at all. 

Eli was a weird kid who grew into a weird adult. His interest in Dungeons & Dragons and death metal led him to some freaky spiritual stuff at an occult bookshop in Louisville and eventually he moved to a camp or a compound in the mountains north of Baneytown. My trouble is because of Eli. He’s family and I ain’t a snitch but it’s the truth.

I was up at the Denny’s on Gibson street doing my court-mandated journaling when Eli came in. He looked terrible. Skinny. Homeless. He’d been missing for seven months. His Mother had taken ill because she was so upset. He asked about his Mother and Sister. I told him they weren’t doing so hot and he didn’t respond.

Eli joined me and proceeded to talk crazy for an hour or so about what he called his “new family” out in the mountains. Nutso shit about fifth dimensions and vibrating reality and all that nonsense. He said they were in some spiritual program working with an old soul they called “the Old Lady” who had lived out in the holler for hundreds of years. Or maybe she was energy. It didn’t make any sense so I just nodded my head. Eli wasn’t exactly what I would call lucid.

 According to Eli, the Old Lady had just healed this kid from Arkansas that had the shakes from Iraq. Nightmares and what have you. It was a big deal and Eli was under the impression the Old Lady was just about strong enough to come on “this side” for good. I ain’t a doctor or nothing but I would describe Eli as being in a manic episode like the one I had when I robbed the Quick Stop in Winslow. I’d swear on a stack of Bibles I didn’t have control of my mind and I recognized that condition in Eli.

Eli asked how I was doing for money and I told him not well because I’m not a liar. Me and my court-ordered therapist are working on telling the truth and I am getting much better. Eli informed me that his “new family” needed someone to run errands so they could focus on the summoning and whatnot. Normally, I would say no, but I was behind on my restitution to the state of Kentucky and child support for my boy Colt. I reckoned I’d do it for a little bit then quit. That was the plan. Honestly.

The job was easy at first and paid real well. Groceries from Costco. Bags of salt from Home Depot. Flowers and fertilizer from Cox’s Greenhouse. Easy shit. My contact with the “new family” was limited. I would drive up a mountain off Rural Route 87 and meet Eli and other hippie types at a hiking/hunting turnoff in the woods. There were pretty girls there but they seemed off to me. They didn’t wear shoes even when it was cold and I’m sure they were ate up by tics and other bugs. I would give him the stuff and they would give me the money. That was it. Nothing fishy.

Earlier tonight, I went up the hill for my weekly drop and instead of being greeted by the pretty hippie women, it was just Eli. Eli was so upset he was shaking. I asked Eli what was the matter and he told me he had a “big job” this time. It would pay triple. 

At this point, I should have called my Parole Officer and let her know things were going sideways but I used poor judgment and I’m sorry. Eli got in my truck. It was starting to snow so I drove real slow. He was rambling worse than usual about “messing up important work” and “they’re so close and Darlene was gonna ruin it” and shit like that. I was nervous but I didn’t ask questions because I was raised to not be nosy.

He told me there was a girl in the “new family” named Darlene that had some sort of breakdown or second thoughts or something and ran away. Maybe she wanted to be with her family on Christmas. Maybe going to the cops. Eli was freaking out.

We pulled up to the Wynette Trailer Court. Darlene’s lot number was 13 which I remembered because it’s my lucky number. I wouldn’t have forgot a detail like that. We parked outside and Eli told me to stay in the truck with the motor running which I was gonna do anyways because it was cold. Eli went in the trailer which wasn’t locked. Lord knows why Darlene didn’t lock her door but I reckon she was so upset she wasn’t thinking right. Maybe she wanted to get caught. People are like that sometimes. There was no sign of struggle or nothing.

Some time later, Eli exited with Darlene. Helping her walk. She was a good looking gal of around 23. I recognized her from the hippie women at the camp. Dreadlocks. Thick coat. Kinda quiet. She was sunburned so bad you’d think she was older. 

Darlene was drugged. Probably Thorezine or one of them new drugs I haven’t heard of. When I was locked up, and an inmate lost it, they would inject them full of that shit and they would be zombies. The Corrections Officers called it “liquid straight jacket.” 

I put up objections. I said this wasn’t what I’d signed up for and I’m not the type of guy that kidnaps people but Eli yelled at me. For the record, I was afraid for my safety and under duress. We drove up the hill in silence. About three minutes from the drop off, I begged Eli not to do this. It didn’t work.

When we got to the drop off, all the people from the “new family” were there. Standing in the snow like it was nothing. I stopped, Eli opened the door and dragged Darlene out and two of them hippie women took her into the woods.

 Eli had a conversation with a tall fella with long hair. I heard him shout, “Whatta you mean she’s already here?” This seemed to be bad news to everyone involved. Eli ran back to the truck. He told me I needed to get the fuck out of there right now and not look up while I was driving. How’s someone supposed to do that?

 I couldn’t drive without looking up and I saw her through my windshield. The Old Lady. Standing there as sure as I’m alive. She was by an oak tree. So old. In a beaten up prairie dress and a bonnet like she was a pioneer or some shit. Almost like a skeleton but also kind of covered in moss. She was glowing a weird green color. Not in the real world but she put that glow in my head. I can’t explain it.

We made eye contact. Her eyes were black. I ain’t an expert in telepathy or transmission or nothing but I knew I wasn’t supposed to see her. I’m writing this down so I don’t sound crazy but I swear to the Lord, I saw my own death. She showed it to me. Like it was nothing. I saw me dead in my truck outside of my Mom’s house. Bullet to the temple. Like I was watching myself. I knew it was real. I got the hell out of there.

Going down the hill, I was afraid The Old Lady was gonna be there. Around every tree. Her look had done something to me. In my head, I was already dead. Hell, I still might be.

I’m back at home. I know very well what it’s like to be out of control of my actions. The District Court of Kentucky can verify that. They call it a mitigating circumstance. I’m feeling pulled to drive out to my Mother’s house and park outside. Where I was dead. I’ma probably do it. I suppose I’m already there. I don’t know how time works. I keep a handgun on my nightstand with one in the chamber. The Old Lady simply can’t have people knowing stuff they’re not supposed to know. It don’t work like that. She informed me I’m already done so I ain’t gonna be a coward about it.

To my Mother, you’re an angel for sticking by me with all the troubles. Misty, you’re a good mother despite the bad hand I dealt you. Colt, listen to your mother. Deep down she’s OK. Family comes first. I want y’all to make it clear to Colt, when he’s old enough to get it, that I was never in charge of shit. I’ve never been in charge of anything my whole life. I just work for the Old Lady. It was never my intention to look at her or see any shit I’m not supposed to see or kidnap that woman or find out how I’m gonna die. I was just doing my job. Honestly.

This is Eli’s fault.