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Surf music plays. A male voice says:
Christopher Gronlund presents Hell Comes with Wood Paneled Doors. Read by me, the author, Christopher Gronlund.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
“Salvation at the Rim of Hell”
“Garsh, it sure is purty,” Aunt Margie said. “I can see why Maw always came here.”
“Yeah…” Mom said. She was pointing things out to Lucky, who even seemed mesmerized.
We stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon in awe. Mom and Aunt Margie didn’t smoke and even the twins appreciated the view, although they couldn’t separate themselves from a bag of fresh marshmallows. We all just stood there staring at the big orange hole in the ground my grandmother loved so dearly.
Looking at that big hole, I realized what Dad meant when he told me there are things bigger than our thoughts you just can’t explain. I understood why he did the backflip from the top of the Cadillac; I wanted to leap into the canyon for no other reason than I was overwhelmed by a feeling that I couldn’t explain.
“Remember how she said it’s like it takes your soul down to the river and cleans it?” Aunt Margie said. “I think I see what she means; it is healing.”
“It’s gorgeous!” Mom said. For the first time I can remember, Mom was humbled by something. The beauty of the canyon transcended things like pink lawn flamingos, bingo cards, and themed casinos. At that very moment, she probably would have admitted the canyon was as beautiful as the King of Rock n Roll himself!
“So what do you guys think?” Dad said.
“It’s great,” the twins said.
I was practically moved to tears. The best I could get out was a long, “Wooowwwwww…”
“How about a picture?” Dad said. He ran off to get his tripod and camera before any of us could answer. He set everything up, framing us through the viewfinder.
“Okay, everybody get together,” he said.
We huddled together, putting our arms around each other like a real, fully-functioning family. Elvis didn’t make any smart-alec remark when I put my arm around him—he simply wrapped his arm around me and smiled for the camera. Olivia didn’t make any sour faces, and even Lucky behaved. The canyon did something to us and I felt that everything from that moment forward would be different in some way, like we’d all get along and be a model family.
Dad triggered the camera’s auto-timer and rushed into the picture beside my Mom. “Say cheese!” he said.
“CHEESE!”
The image the camera captured is one of my most prized possessions; Dad had finally—after years and years of trying—snapped his perfect family photo! We looked happy standing there as the morning sun poked out through the dark clouds in the distance, covering everything in the kind of lighting you only seem to see in movies. In the years that followed, when the twins acted up; when Lucky was on a tear; or when Mom and Dad were arguing, all I had to do is look at that photo and remember that deep-down where it counted, we were a family.
“Well, I suppose it’s time to do what we came for: scatter Mama’s ashes just like she wanted,” Mom said. It seemed a fitting event for Grandma’s fiftieth trip to the canyon.
“I’ll go get the urn,” Dad said, pointing to approaching clouds. “Need to get moving because it looks like rain.” As he trotted back to the Inferno, a few fat drops fell here and there. He came back with the urn and one of the garbage bags from Clyde McAllister’s Civil War Museum and Alligator Village. He covered the camera with the bag and handed the urn to Mom.
Mom set Lucky on her shoulder and carefully took the lid off the urn so the wind didn’t blow its contents free. Aunt Margie reached out and they both held my grandmother’s cremains. I figured someone would say something special, but seeing the two of them sharing in one of the most special moments of their lives, I realized words would have only ended up getting in the way. They stepped to the rim of the canyon and I thought I was going to see a perfect moment. I should have known better.
Mom tugged at the urn and said, “Are you gonna let go?” to Aunt Margie.
“Are you gonna let go?!” Aunt Margie said, standing up to her big sister. Sibling rivalry was turning a beautiful moment into something ugly.
“I’m the oldest!”
“Only by ten minutes!”
“Still, it’s the way Mama would have wanted it,” Mom said.
Aunt Margie wasn’t about to give up. She tugged a little harder and said, “She woulda wanted me to scatter them. She liked me best!”
“No she didn’t!” Mom said, pulling the urn back to her side.
“Yes she did.”
“You’re wrong as usual, Marge. She told me she liked me best.”
“Look me in the eye and say that, Mary.”
“No!”
“You can’t because you’re a liar! Maw did so like me best!”
“Did not!”
“Did to!”
I couldn’t take it anymore! We were there to give Grandma a fitting send-off, not watch two grown children fight over their mother’s mortal remains and argue which one was more loved. I didn’t pack into the back seat of the Inferno only to drive cross-country just to see my mom and aunt fight.
“Both of you!” I yelled. “Stop it!”
“Leave us alone, Michael,” Mom said. “You don’t understand!”
“What’s to understand about two greedy sisters who are too dense to see that maybe their mother loved them both equally?!”
“He’s right, you two,” Dad said.
They both shouted, “Shut up!”
I tried reasoning with them. “What about the car? You guys keep fighting and the car’s gonna do something.”
“Screw that piece of shit car!” Mom yelled. “I’m here to dump my mother’s ashes and damnit, I’m gonna dump them if I have to throw my little sister in to do it!”
“You’re both doing a disservice to Grandma!” I said.
“She’d understand, Michael” Aunt Margie said. “And she’d want me to dump her ashes!”
“No she wouldn’t!” Mom said. “She’d want me to dump them, you white trash bitch!” Like Mom wasn’t white trash!
“Don’t call me names, Mary!”
Mom was going for the jugular. “I’ll call you whatever I want, you hillbilly sow!”
“That’s why Maw liked me best,” Aunt Margie said, almost crying. “I’m not mean, like you.”
“You guys, shut up!” I yelled. The twins joined in the argument.
“You shut up, Mister Michael Know-It-All!”
Dad had enough. “EVERYBODY, SHUT THE HELL UP!”
With that, the clouds grew to a deep bruised color, unable to hold their contents. Sheets of rain broke loose and were driven down by the hard wind. Lucky was almost knocked from Mom’s shoulder and into the canyon, but he took shelter in Mom’s blouse. Mom, Dad, Aunt Margie, and the twins kept yelling at one another; I was the only one who was thinking about the car. Before I could say something, the car had everyone’s attention, though.
“RRRAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!” The sound was half mechanical, half unholy! A deep growl punctuated the engine’s revving; we all looked at the Inferno, which was rocking back and forth, feeding off our anger! When Mom slapped Aunt Margie across her face, it finally happened. With a squeal of tires, the Inferno bore down on my family. Dad instinctively pushed the twins and me free from the charge, but Mom and Aunt Margie stood directly in the way! For the first time ever, Lucky abandoned Mom, leaping from her blouse and rushing to safety. I looked up just in time to see Mom and Aunt Margie pull at the urn so hard, they lost their grips and fell back, out of the Inferno’s path.
BAM! Mom and Aunt Margie were safe, but the Inferno slammed into Grandma’s urn, sending her ashes scattering over the edge of the canyon. The only good thing was the car went over with Grandma’s cremains and exploded on the canyon’s floor, sending a huge fireball all the way up near us, reminding me of my nightmare. We got up and looked. Grandma’s ashes floated on the heat thermals from the burning car and were scattered across the canyon on the winds. When she was gone, we all watched the Inferno until the fire went out. I tried thinking of something to say, but was speechless.
The twins were the first to speak: “At least the car’s gone.”
“So’s all our stuff,” Mom said.
I lost it! We were all almost killed by an act of greed and all they could think of was the car finally cashing it in with all our stuff! “Forget the car!” I shouted, “do you really think that solves our problems?! Look at us! We just had a possessed station wagon scatter Grandma’s ashes into the Grand Canyon because two grown women were too stubborn to give their mother a proper send-off, like she wanted. And what about Dad’s soul, now? How’s he gonna get his soul back now that the car’s been destroyed by our stupidity and greed and not by an act of God? You two make me sick!”
Mom turned my anger toward Aunt Margie. “It’s all your fault.”
“It’s all your fault,” Aunt Margie said.
The twins saw a chance to take another dig at me. “You make us sick, Michael Barfbag!”
I gave up trying to be the level-headed one; the car was gone and so was Dad’s soul. I was going to drop to their level, and family be damned if I was going to care about what I said. I turned to the twins. “Shut up, you fuckin’ retards!”
“You shut up!” Olivia said, stepping toward me. I punched her in the arm. When Elvis charged me, I was ready. I kicked him between the legs and started pounding on him. All I remember is his bloody nose, Olivia screaming and kicking me, and my grip on his shirt so tight that Dad couldn’t pull me off. We all fought each other: me taking on the twins; Mom and Lucky working over Aunt Margie. No matter how hard Dad tried, he couldn’t pull me off Elvis.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Inferno!
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We all turned to see it right back where we left it, revving its engine!
RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Oh…shit…” the whole family said in unison, like the twins. The twins started crying and were quickly joined by Aunt Margie. Mom prayed, and Dad stepped in front of us all, as though that would protect us from a car sent to wreak hell on our family. I pushed my way past him, remembering what Brother Rob said. I had a mission; my name and the situation was all the proof I needed to summon some confidence.
“Okay…everybody just be cool. Remember…get along,” I said.
Mom and Aunt Margie shut up, but still continued shooting dirty looks back and forth. The car kept revving.
“Even your thoughts, guys! You gotta get along!” I shouted over the wind and rain. Lightning hit a nearby tree, splitting it in half.
“Just get along,” I said.
Lightning flashed and thunder crashed. I could make out a swirling cloud directly above us. Something big was about to happen.
“Just get along…”
I was asking too much, apparently. “Who died and made you God?” Olivia said. Elvis quickly recovered enough to laugh.
I was at the end of my rope. “Why the hell do I even try?”
“YAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I shouted as I charged the Inferno. I threw myself onto the slippery hood!
“Take me, damnit!” I shouted. “Take me and spare my messed up family!” the Inferno bounced up and down, trying to throw me, but I got a grip on the windshield wipers. “Take me and spare my brow-beaten father who works his ass off for a family that doesn’t appreciate him! I love him, damnit!”
The right wiper broke free as the car shook violently—I gripped the left wiper so tightly, it drew blood. “Take me and spare my hillbilly aunt!” I yelled skyward. “She may eat crap that turns my stomach, but she’s got a big heart!” I felt the hood pop open beneath me. Green goop spewed from the radiator and through the cracks in the grill. “Take me and spare my overbearing mother! Her bark is worse than her bite and I know, no matter how many times she threatens us with that damn sauce ladle, she’d never do anything to hurt us!”
The Inferno levitated! I didn’t know if I was hurting it, or simply pissing it off, but either way, something was happening. “Take me and spare Mom’s rat-dog, Lucky! I don’t care if he pukes on everything I own! If he makes Mom happy, I can live with him, damnit!” The Inferno spun in circles; I held onto the left wiper blade for my life, like a bull rider in a rodeo! “Take me and spare my freaky brother and sister! I may not get along with them and they may torment me ‘til the day I die, but damnit, I really do love them!”
The Inferno did everything it could to throw me: spinning in circles, jolting up and down, and spewing steam and hot green goop from the engine. I looked toward the heavens. “Are you listening to me?! Huh?! Damnit, I’m talking to you!”
Nothing.
“Listen to me, damnit! Prove to me you’re up there!”
Nothing at all. I was about to give up.
“Why the hell do I even bother?! JUST DAMN THIS CAR! DAMN IT STRAIGHT TO HELL!!!”
CRACK!!!
A bolt of lightning hit the Inferno, blowing it to pieces and knocking me back. I hit the edge of the canyon and bounced in!
“MICHAEL!!!” everyone shouted. They rushed to the rim and looked down, where I was clinging to a rock.
“There he is,” Mom shouted.
Dad got down on his stomach and leaned over. “Quick! Everyone hold my feet!”
Mom, the twins, and Aunt Margie grabbed Dad’s feet to lower him down to me. Even Lucky joined in, grabbing Dad’s pant cuff and pulling back.
“You’re too heavy, James!” Mom said.
“I’ll do it!” Olivia said, climbing down Dad’s back. They pulled him up so his waist was on the canyon’s edge and held him there. He grabbed Olivia’s feet and lowered her to me. I remember thinking, “She’s too weak!” when I saw her, but when we grabbed each other’s hands, nothing was going to separate us.
“Pull!” Dad shouted. I was pulled to safety and smothered in hugs.
“Thank God, you’re alive!” Mom said, looking skyward. “Thank you!”
“See, told you there’s a God,” the twins said.
“He sure works in mysterious ways,” Aunt Margie added.
We turned back to the Inferno. It was really gone.
“How are we gonna git home?” Aunt Margie said.
“Mary still has her purse and money,” Dad said. “We’ll fly home.”
“All our stuff…” Mom said.
“We still got each other,” Aunt Margie said. “That’s what really matters. And I know God done kilt that devil car. That means Jimmy gets his soul back!”
“Yeah!” the twins said.
We all wandered toward the crater where the Inferno was just moments before. Nothing remained, except a small fire and the windshield wiper I pulled free. I picked it up and said, “I’m gonna hold onto this.”
“Why?” Mom said.
“I just think I’m supposed to.”
Dad entered the crater; something caught his eye in the center, near the fire. I stepped down near him to take a look as the twins wandered off toward some bushes.
“What’s that?” I said, seeing Dad bend over, pick something up, and kiss it. He turned around holding the Plastic Mary.
“Hold onto this while you’re at it,” he said.
The twins came down with six sticks and handed them out. They grabbed some marshmallows from their bag, put them on their sticks, and passed the bag around. We all roasted marshmallows as the rain stopped and the skies cleared.
I started singing. “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…”
Then Dad: “Ninety-nine bottles of beer…”
Mom and Aunt Margie joined in—Lucky howled along, but this time, didn’t tell me to die or burn in hell. “Take one down, pass it around…”
And finally, the twins: “Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall…”
“Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall,” we all sang. “Ninety-eight bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around…ninety-seven bottle of beer on the wall…”
I’d like to say the events of that trip made us the perfect Leave it to Beaver family, but they didn’t. We still argued, we still got on each other’s nerves, and we still loved one another unconditionally, despite our setbacks. There’s no such thing as that perfect 50s sitcom family; there never was, but Mom and Dad, the twins and me, and that little rat-dog stayed together through good and bad. People on the block talked behind our backs—I knew what they said about my mother and I knew they wondered why my father stuck with her throughout the years. That trip showed me what Dad saw in her; that trip showed me what we all saw in each other. That trip showed me we may be “dysfunctional,” but you know what? There’s function in dysfunction, and that’s good enough for me.
EPILOGUE
“Where Are they Now?”
Aunt Margie spent the rest of her days in the mountains of West Virginia, selling beat-up cars and fridges with Uncle Otis. Daryl lost his life three years after our visit, while out hunting with Debbie. Everyone who knew them suspected it wasn’t a “hunting accident” at all, but no charges were ever brought against Debbie.
The Twins wrote a series of successful, no-holds barred self-help books, which led to their very own daytime TV talk show: Get a Life! They travel the country giving “motivational speeches” and have their very own brand of marshmallows on the market.
Mom won the country’s largest lottery on Lucky’s seventh birthday. She found a couple other investors and used the money to open a casino in Atlantic City called Lucky’s Sevens. She swoons every time she hears “Love Me Tender,” on the radio, swearing up and down the King of Rock-n-Roll sang it just for her.
With money brought in from Mom’s casino, Dad was able to fulfill a life-long dream and open a specialty shop called Another Roadside Attraction, where he sells highway memorabilia and tacky oddities, like jackalope heads with glowing red, light-up eyes. He now has a valid excuse for his long summer cross-country treks and even gets to write them off as a business expense.
Lucky lived to the ripe old age of twenty-one. He was evil to the bitter end and is forever immortalized in Dad’s store, where he’s stuffed and mounted (complete with red eyes of his own), right next to the cash register.
And me? I’m a travel writer now, but you know that already. I’ve got a wife and four great kids (twin girls and twin boys). We go to the Grand Canyon on vacation whenever we can. When the kids ask why it’s always the Canyon, I tell them the same thing Grandma always told me: “It’s healing.” They say they don’t understand, but I have a feeling—just like me—one day they will…
* * *
Surf music plays. A male voice says:
Thank you so much for listening to Hell Comes with Wood Paneled Doors–it really means a lot to me.
Theme music is provided by Belgium’s best surf band, Pirato Ketchup.
And if you want to know a little bit more about me and the other things I do, check out ChristopherGronlund.com.
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