THE TREE AT THE END OF THE WORLD

CHAPTER 1 REUNION “The gas station should be just a few miles ahead”. Anne laughed, “You said that about an hour ago. I’m beginning to think you made all this up. We haven’t seen a car on this road since we started. How could anyone run a gas station out here?” Anne’s sister, Jenny. in the backseat, started to say something in agreement with her sister but then thought the better of it. Anne was more than enough equipped to take on any man in this kind of argument. Caleb smiled, “I don’t know. It’s just that there has always been one here. It’s just by the side of the road.” He noted the slight edge in Anne’s voice indicating impatience was creeping in that was more likely to grow the further they drove. Without realizing it his foot pressed a little harder on the gas pedal gently increasing their speed. It was a typical west Texas road, dusty, straight and level. Worse it went on forever with no change in scenery to give some relief for his passengers to look at. Then, as if by magic, a faint mark on the distant horizon gradually morphed into the shape of buildings with pumps outside. There was no sign announcing the price of a gallon. It really didn’t matter. You either needed gas or you didn’t, price was immaterial. Caleb parked the car next to the nearest pump, a tall monolith that must have been there since the gas station’s construction. The pump stood slightly bent, it’s rusty exterior of tin metal sheet ripped open by the wind and just old age. Caleb began pumping gas into the car. Anne, as much out of relief of boredom, started to exit the car to stretch her legs. “You want anything?” Anne asked Jenny. Jenny shook her head. By the look of the place the contents for sale were probably a hundred years old already. She could wait for their destination. The noon day heat hit Anne like a wall. No longer with the protection of the car’s air conditioner Anne closed her door and at a fast pace entered the building behind the gas pumps hoping for more cold air. She opened the battered screen door noting the large hole in it. She ignored this omen by repeating to herself that surely cold air and sustenance must await her inside. She was disappointed. What she got instead was sparsely stocked shelves accompanied by an overwhelming smell of dried wood and old age. It was the same with the man who stood behind the counter. The only item of his clothing that did not look worn out was his hat. He ignored Anne’s presence as he watched intently as Caleb filled the car’s gas tank. To use up time Anne wandered slowly up and down the two rows of shelves looking for any junk food snacks that were not too far from their expiration date. She finally found a packet of peanuts she could easily throw away if found to be inedible and plucked up the courage to walk over to the counter. The man behind the counter was still watching at Caleb pumping gasoline. Suddenly he spoke, still with his eyes on Caleb. “You must be traveling with one of the Adams’s boys. I haven’t seen any of them fellers in years. He doesn’t look a goddamn day older than when he left.” The man made the comment as Anne dug into her handbag for some small change. Anne nodded in reply, not wishing to open a conversation. She stood back from the counter just as Caleb, thankfully, walked through the door. Caleb` paid the man with cash and escorted Anne back through the heat to the car. It took a few moments for the car’s sweet cold air conditioning to take effect. “Wow, what an experience. That man was so creepy and he seemed to know you.” Caleb turned the car around and started up the dusty dirt road that was beside the gas station. “Not really. Old Pete is pretty harmless He has managed that gas station for years. I’m sure he was guessing. My family, the Adams, is the only ones that have lived up this road.” They drove on quietly for thirty minutes, each deep in their own thoughts.. It was Anne who finally broke the silence. “How much further to the property?” Caleb laughed.”You’ve been on it ever since we left the gas station.” It was a narrow dirt track to begin with, with only the occasional Cottonwood tree towering over the road, their large triangular leaves bursting with the cotton like seeds floating like a fog before the car. Next wooden five bar fences began to occupy the right side of the road. Finally a large single storey log house came in to view with stone columns propping up the front porch that housed a dozen or so rocking chairs. Behind the house they could see barns nestled among more trees. A very old and rusty flat bed Ford truck sat beside one of the barns. There was a man standing on the front porch intently watching their car drive up. Caleb turned off the engine and sat waiting in the car. The man on the porch stepped into the bright morning sun and approached the car. Caleb waited until the man was a few steps from the car and slowly opened the door and stepped out. There was no proffered handshake or obvious sign of recognition, but for one word. At first there was a long silence that preceded that word. “Caleb?”