Mark knocked on the door, ready to start shooting. Maureen answered the door and he immediately saw that Maureen had a pretty good shiner going over and under her left eye.

"Lloyd?"

"Yep, I think he's a little jealous of our closeness. He didn't like hearing that you were my first love too much. You'd think a country boy'd be more tolerant of the whole teenage kissing cousin thing."

Mark shook his head, indicating that Maureen's announcement was probably a bad idea.

They made love without saying another word to each other; by the time they were done the sun was pretty near up but the sky remained dark because of a batch of grey storm clouds that remained hovering over Kurtzville's barren fields. They laid there for awhile-- listening to the birds chirp.

"Let's go to the Farmer's Market and grab some grub. We can cook it over at the Improper."

"Sounds good."

Mark made a quick jerry rig repair on the radiator hose's pinhole leak by wrapping it with duct tape; he also added a little water to the car's relatively huge radiator.

They drove to the Farmers' Market, bought the breakfast material and then went to the inn.

 
***************************

 
"Dennis?" Mark called out. He and Maureen stood in the parking lot before walking forward. No answer.

They walked into the barroom; Mark hurriedly walked to the small dining room where Dennis's brother's body lay, poked his head inside, half expecting to see Dennis next to the body but he was not there. He closed the door behind him, remembering to keep Maureen from opening the dining room door.

"Hello?" Dennis called out from The Improper's upstairs as he walked down to meet his visitors.

Hi Maureen," he said with a tone of measured friendliness as he entered the barroom.

"Sorry folks but beds and breakfasts are at least six or seven months away. Still got to put a roof on, " Dennis said, pointing to the hole in the ceiling.

"Cat's out of the bag," Mark said, "Lloyd beat the crap out of Maureen after she told him about the teenage crushes we had on each other."

"Terrific," Dennis said in response, "I can see the headline now: two brothers killed in a bumfukburg named Kurtzville (brief pause) separate incidents by the same gang. American fucking Dream. You think that asshole is coming over here?"

"Don't worry; if he is, I'm ready to take care of him-- you can be sure of that," Mark said, removing his .25 and checking to make sure it was ready to go. "Yeah and keep Maureen out of the dining room, I don't want her seeing the body."

Maureen was already making the breakfast with a grill, a cast iron pan and the open flame she was carefully controlling.

"You find out if your lady's on the level?"

"I'll talk to her about what really went on that made Lloyd smack her around. But I'm gonna do that when you are over in Reading getting some supplies that we are going to need if we are ever going to get this bar up and running. Here's a hundred bucks; I want you to get a pair of good sledgehammers. We are going through that wall when you get back.

"While you are a over in Reading, get a five gallon can of gasoline-- I want to try to get that generator up and running. And a couple boxes of wooden matches. Have a few beers at a local tavern somewhere-- but stick with beer, I want you brave not incoherent. You got that?"

"Yeah, I got that."

Mark watched Dennis and Maureen exchange greetings and partings in the Improper's lot before Dennis got into the Malibu and drove off slowly. He went outside, stood by Maureen and they both stared into the fire. Breakfast was done and they ate.

"You want to hike to the peak?"

"How high is it?"

"Three thousand."

His body was doing one better than tingling when they made love halfway up the mountain. They were finished and walked another five hundred feet before coming across an old moss covered stone altar.

"You know anything about this? " he asked her, looking at the ancient stone altar that he'd never seen before though he'd hiked this mountain dozens of times when he was as a teenager.

"It's an old Lenapi Indian thing, it's been here for a thousand years. You sure me and you never came across this thing when we were back here hiking?"

"I'm sure."

The temperature was hovering somewhere in the mid 50s; autumn is beautiful in Appalachia. He told himself that he was going to be spending a lot of time up here. Up on Hawk Mountain the air was a bit thinner.

They stayed on top of the peak for two hours before heading down.

"Let's go back to the bar and sit by that fire baby.

 
**************************************
 
They built a fire inside the main barroom. It was a nice fire for autumn-- not too much in the heat department. Mark stared into the fireplace, deliberating. He had to know if Maureen had played a part in Dennis's brother's death. He had to know.

"What would you think if I told you Ray Macpherson was still here?"

"I don't know, is he?" she asked as a matter of factly. "You mean here?"

"Yeah, come say hi."

He opened the door and she saw the headless corpse on ice.

"Dear Lord."

"Do you want to leave Kurtzville now?"

"Oh please hold me," she said, pleading with outstretched arms. "They swore to me that they just ran him out of town."

He went to her and they embraced; he was completely softening up emotionally when she stuck him in the ass with something sharp. She removed the hypodermic needle from his butt, showing it to him briefly before tossing it into the fireplace. He smacked her before he staggered and hit the floor.

"Dream on lover," she said to him before leaving the barroom. "They swore to me that they were just going to run him out of town. I'll come clean and tell you all about it now, lover. You're here for a reason, you know that and you knew that all along.

"I need the important part of you, Mark. My womb needs repairing; I got pregnant last year but it wasn't by Lloyd and it wasn't a church member. Lloyd and my father and Binder and old Grenden dragged me to that old veterinarian who was so drunk when he cut into me that he wrecked my womb, maybe he wrecked our religion.... maybe we can start our own religion, Mark...."