The Slob Monster of Stubble Stone Creek

Vonda Norwood

This is a series filled with crime and family drama.

Chapter One

In early spring of 2002, on a country highway in Kansas, twin headlights from a Greyhound bus carved a narrow path through a moonless night. The massive coach surged forward through the twilight, its tires humming rhythmically against the asphalt. Stars shone on the windows, casting ghost-like reflections of half-seen faces.

Inside, and at the very last seat, the engine’s steady growl vibrated through the floorboards, settling deep into Maria’s bones. The smell of fast-food wrappers and diesel fuel mingled in the stale air. The back seat is bouncier, she agreed, but kept that thought to herself. She pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. Don’t admit it to Ruben. You know he’s going to ask.

Under a weak, yellow haze from overhead lights, passengers slumped against high-back seats. Some slept with slack faces, while others gazed ahead with hollow eyes. Maria sat stiff, her fingers gripped dark-gray, vinyl armrests tightly and she stared across the aisle. There, a young woman clutched an infant to her chest. The mother’s eyes were closed, her breathing slow and deep, while the baby’s bald head bounced softly beneath her chin.

Ruben held the window seat next to his wife. He leaned into Maria’s shoulder. His breath was warm against the back of her neck as he whispered in Spanish, “Have you gone broody?”

Maria rotated, pointing her right knee toward the crisp ridge that she had ironed into his dark-wash Wrangler Riggars just yesterday. She matched his quiet tone. “Why did I marry a crazy Charro?”

Ruben grinned. He wore a crisp, starched western shirt in a deep wine-red hue, featuring sharp white pearl snaps down the front and matching V-shaped yokes across his shoulders. The fabric was tailored tightly to his chest, with the long sleeves neatly rolled back twice at the wrists to reveal a pair of heavy, calloused hands. He rested his forehead on her temple. “It’s what crazy women do. Stop staring.” His sweaty brow warmed her skin and sent a chill racing down her spine.

“I’m—” She shivered.

“You need to rest.” Ruben reared his head and gazed down into her brown eyes. “This is a long trip, Baby. If you don’t rest, I don’t rest.”

Maria glanced around quickly, then brought her lips to his ear. “There are a lot of weird people on this bus.”

He cupped her cold hands. “Everyone is sleeping. You’re the only one I see acting like a weirdo.”

“What?” She pulled from his clutch. “I’m just watching out f—”

Directly behind them, the bathroom door snapped open. A lanky man burst into the aisle, exuding an acrid stench of urine and motor oil. He’d been in there so long that Maria forgot anyone had gone into the latrine. She winced and turned to look over the headrest. The towering, skeletal figure yanked the door handle until it closed with a sharp, final click.

Maria’s eyes watered. She bowed her head and blinked rapidly. Beside her, Ruben leaned forward and held his breath.

That violator of the senses coughed behind tightly closed lips. He twirled toward the aisle and stumbled into the side of Maria’s chair. Then he bounced into the side of the seat where the young mother and baby slept. The baby’s head popped up. Her mother gasped, cradled her closer and then she leaned toward the empty window seat that was beside her.

Maria rotated denim, skirt-covered knees toward the aisle. No matter how hard she blinked, the yellow haze masked the full view of that stranger’s face. Still coughing, he paused and stretched a grimy, red-freckled arm toward the pink blanket draped over the young mother’s back. Maria’s eyes grew wide and her nostril flared. She placed an open palm between the stranger’s dirty fingers and the woman’s back.

Ruben hopped to his pair of square-toe, exotic caiman belly leather boots in a rich cognac color, their undershot walking heels clicked sharply against the floorboard. A thick, hand-tooled brown leather belt circled his waist, secured by an oversized, polished silver buckle depicting a bucking bronco. In English he shouted, “Man, what are you doing?” Passengers flinched in unison.

The cougher’s hand recoiled, he whipped around and stumbled up the aisle. A sharp, piercing cry from the baby cut through many grumbles and groans.

The intruder blended into the haze. Ruben lowered himself to his seat. Maria frowned and she turned to her husband who nodded and pointed back and forth, motioning for her to trade places with him.

***

After settling into his wife’s original seat, Ruben gazed across the aisle. The young woman swayed with her quieted baby to the steady, rhythmic jolts of the bus. A faint, powdery scent of milk replaced the foul stench that had choked their small space. When the mother glanced up, Ruben smiled softly. She clutched her infant tighter, then turned to stare into the darkness outside her window.

Ruben shifted to face forward and he cleared his throat.

Maria reached over and patted his knee. She whispered in Spanish, “I told you.”

***

It was exactly twentyone minutes before seven in the morning when the bus rolled into Elk City, Oklahoma nine minutes ahead of schedule. Their driver stood outside the open door surrounded by the smell of diesel, oil and asphalt. He wore a broad smile and nodded politely to passengers as they exited, and he greeted new travelers who climbed aboard. A few people snickered, wondering aloud if they had time to visit the casino up the road. Others stretched, cleared their throats, and mumbled about needing coffee from the massive travel plaza. Ruben stepped out with the crowd, on a mission to retrieve coffee and a healthy breakfast for two. That sprawling pit stop served as their terminal, doubling as a tourist trap with a few slot machines. It was also packed with restaurants, clothing boutiques, pottery shops, and jewelry stores.

Inside, Maria reclaimed her original seat, and formally introduced herself to Mrs. Arla Mitchell and her daughter, Bonnie from across the aisle. The two were on their way to El Paso, Texas, where a new tank commander named Heath Mitchell would be waiting to welcome them to their next, temporary home.

Maria yawned and then dropped her hand to her lap where she brushed away imaginary crumbs from a pair of light-blue sweat pants that she’d put on while in the latrine. “From Nebraska to El Paso with a six-month old can be a long trip.”

“I know…” Arla sighed and shifted the baby to her right knee, allowing Bonnie’s pink, sock-covered feet to dangle near the aisle. “This is our third move,” Arla’s dark-blue eyes grew wide. “and we’ve only been married for a year and a half.”

Maria gazed down into the baby’s bright blue eyes. “Oh wow… Military life.” She smiled, and Bonnie smiled back and delivered a soft coo.

Arla nodded. “Oh yeah, military life exactly.”

“How old are you two?”

Arla held on to Bonnie with one hand, while she grabbed loose baby items from the seat next to her and placed them into a diaper bag on the same seat. “I’m twenty. Heath’s twenty-one.”

“You two have a long and happy life to look forward to.”

“Yeah, that’s how we see it. But some people thought we were too young.” Arla chuckled and she kissed the top of Bonnie’s head. “Some people just don’t get it.”

“Good news!” shouted a woman who leaped from the steps to beside the driver’s chair, capturing Maria, Arla and Bonnie’s full attention. The woman held a red paper bag filled with popcorn. “This is Stinky’s stop. So, he will not be back!” A few passengers, including Maria and Arla cheered. The woman slapped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. She turned to the seat behind the driver’s. “Move over Johnny.” She used her forearm to wipe at her mouth because popcorn flew from it as she spoke. “I’m sitting there.”

Johnny chuckled, “Give me some popcorn first.”

Arla and Maria watched as the woman kicked at the man’s leg. She clutched the bag to her chest. “Go get your own.”

Johnny stomped a foot on the floorboard. “Damn it, Tammy!” He stood, and as she maneuvered around him, he grumbled, “I’ll get me something better than that for breakfast.”

 Tammy dropped to the chair. “They ain’t got nothing better than this in there.”

Johnny exited the bus.

Maria’s eyes grew wide. She glanced at Arla who then giggled. Bonnie sucked on her pink fist and as her mother giggled, so did she. “I’ve been through here a couple of times, Maria. They got good food in some of the restaurants.” Arla leaned toward the aisle and stared forward. “That popcorn does smell good.”

Maria smiled at her new friends. “Bonnie’s a sweetie.”

“She acts like she’s ready for another bottle.”

Maria nodded. “Maybe she’s just teething.”

“I hope so, because if she eats too much, she’ll sleep too much.”

Maria reached over, took hold of Bonnie’s free hand then caressed soft, tiny knuckles with her thumb. “She’ll sleep too much?”

“Miss Bonnie Blue slept all night last night. Which means she might not sleep much tonight.”

A shadow cast upon Maria’s arm. “I’ll babysit,” said a man who plopped a faded navy blue backpack onto the seat in front of Maria. The empty top half folded over like a deflated balloon.

“Uh,” Arla leaned back and looked up.

Maria released the baby’s hand, she studied the stranger. He was average in height, too thin. As he spoke, she saw at least three missing teeth, one in front and two on the bottom right. Too weird, he’s only about thirty. The man wore a snow-white crewneck T-shirt that hugged his boney shoulders, paired with faded, light-blue jeans. On his feet were a pair of scuffed brown leather work boots, their  surfaces were cracked and the heels were flat.

Henry introduced himself and moved his blue sack over to the seat next to the window. He sat and draped his legs into the aisle. “I’m the oldest of seven boys. It’d sure be nice to care for a little girl for once.”

Maria frowned, bit her tongue and stared wide-eyed at Arla who appeared mesmerized by the friendly newcomer who continued to speak fast. “I know what it’s like, my mama had her hands full. But I never did mind to step up and help out.”

A heavy, rhythmic clack-clack-clack vibrated through the floorboards as Ruben approached Henry’s legs. The aroma of fresh roasted coffee and melted cheese mixed with spicy chorizo rushed to the women and it filled the air around them. “Excuse me,” said Ruben, who balanced a coffee carrier in one hand and a lumpy, white sack in the other.

Maria gasped quietly. Henry rotated his legs from the aisle. In Spanish, Ruben asked Maria, “You okay?” He stepped up, handing the carrier to her.

Through a forced smile, Maria replied in English. “Yeah, hi.” She accepted the carrier. “Um, that’s Henry. The oldest of seven boys.”

Ruben studied Maria’s expression as he sidestepped in front of her knees. “Nice to meet you, Henry.”

There wasn’t a reply from Henry. Arla watched him fondle a cellphone on his lap. She couldn’t tell if he was reading or writing.

Maria watched, wide-eyed, as Ruben pulled a foil-wrapped breakfast burrito from the sack.

“Why’s it so fat?” Her nostrils flared. “What’s in it?”

“Everything heavenly, I mean, healthy.” Ruben chuckled. “Just like you told me to get.”

Maria sniffed the air. “I smell bacon and sausage…”

“Spinach is in there too.”

Arla stood and placed Bonnie on her left hip. Maria and Ruben went silent. “We’re going to do some stretching before the bus leaves.”

Henry insisted, “I’ll go with you.”

Maria rushed the coffee to Ruben’s lap. He steadied it using the burrito that he tried handing off to her. She sprang into the aisle behind Arla and Bonnie. Henry frowned. Ruben gazed over the headrests. “I need to stretch too.” Maria explained as she patted the top of Henry’s shoulder, “You relax, you just got on. I’ll watch over them.”

“I guess,” Henry said and he glanced back at Ruben before returning his attention to his phone.

Arla smiled. “Oh nice… just the girls.” The ladies moved forward.

“I’ve been sitting way too long on those bouncy back seats.” Maria told Arla, “That back seat is so much bouncier than the others.”

Ruben nodded, and in Spanish, he mumbled, “I told her.”