The House of Dust - 4th Chapter

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The Girl

Mark

The girl was obviously not Samantha, for Mark’s sister was dead. But she was painfully familiar. For a moment, Mark felt like his heart weighed a ton. The little girl ran gayly towards them with her dog, shaking her pigtails, oblivious to Mark’s feelings.

Jack and John turned to follow the noise.

“Jack!” the girl screamed.

“Damn Cam, get back to the house!” Jack said.

“But Mama say I can go today.”

Mark remembered that Gerbert had talked about his daughter the night before. Cam was a miniature version of her mother, Miridiana, with cherry-red hair, deep-sea blue eyes, and pale skin. She wore a white farm dress, muddied on the skirt. Except for the hair, she could be Samantha’s twin sister.

Fucking coping mechanism, Mark thought bitterly.

“Your daughter?” John said.

“Gerbert’s,” Jack said.

Both men kept walking, ignoring Mark and the girl. Cam stared at Mark with a strange curiosity.

“Yar hair’s funny,” Cam said.

Mark laughed. “Hi there. I’m Mark. So, you’re Cam, right?”

“Yes, that’s the name my Mama gave me, and this is Cool. She’s she, she-doggy. A fine lady like me, except when doing doggy things, Mama hates doggy things.” Cam pointed to the black hound.

Mark thought, That beast could very well be a “she,” but definitely not like you. That thing is a killing machine.

“Cool? That is a funny name for a dog like...her,” Mark said.

“It’s what we call’er,” Cam said.

“Is that a nickname? Like shorter for Colette? Collier?”

The girl laughed. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The hound seemed friendlier around Cam.

After some walking, they reached the forked path from the night before, but this time, the sign “Bull Farm” was rigidly attached to the pole.

“Hey, Jack? Who fixed the sign?” Mark said.

“Feit. Y’all call me Feit. Sometimes the damn thing falls, so we put it back up.”

“What’s on the left?” Mark said.

“Water spring,” Jack harshly replied, ending the subject.

Except for Cam, who tried to sound smart, “Father told me is a life source.”

That strange Jack Feit was a tough crowd, so Mark stopped trying.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Cam interrupted Mark’s thought.

“What? I’m sorry, I was wondering.”

“Yar hair and beard. Funny, I say.”

“It is my rock style.”

They reached the pavement road, back to Esperanza, and turned left. Mark glanced around the crossroad and saw a cemetery in the distance. Creepy, he thought.

“Rock hair? Like in rocks?” Cam bent and pointed to a boulder.

“Not this kind of rock. Rock music, you know. Like ZZ Top or the Doors? You know rock stars, right?”

The black dog barked in reply, and Mark’s spine became cold.

Freaking dog. Why would they call this thing ‘Cool’?

The girl looked puzzled. “Rock star?”

“Yes, the music style. I’m a musician, and I used to play guitar in a band.”

“So, ar’yal rock star?” Cam asked, and John laughed with scorn a few meters ahead.

Asshole, Mark thought.

“Yeah… Something like that,” Mark said.

When Cam saw the construction site two blocks away, she sighed.

Mark did too.

The wood skeleton raised mightily from the desert bushes, like the carcass of a giant animal. The sun reflected brightly on the white wood beams and pillars. There were no walls, only structural posts and a single tower near completion in the middle. It stood tall, like a horn, covered in a wood panel with a delicate finish. There was no bell yet, but by the structure, it was planned. On top of the tower, a flourished rusted cross with a rooster shook by the wind. The ceiling was covered with wooden boards to protect the workers from the sun.

“It seems all right,” Mark said.

“Berries! It’s bigger than the Dust House!” Cam said.

“What?”

“Time to go, Cam!” Feit shouted impatiently, heading inside the church site with John. But the girl did not leave; she just stood there watching the church skeleton.

“So, Cam. It was nice meeting you. You’re a nice girl,” Mark said.

“Likewise,” Cam said.

The hound barked again as if saying, “Fuck off, weird man!”

Freaking dog.

But before the girl could leave, Mark asked, “Your name, Cam? I used to have a sister about your age, Samantha. We called her Sam. What is your full name? Camille or Cameron?”

“Something like that,” Cam answered and ran back to the road, followed by her strange hound.

Freaking dog.